I'm in my late 20's. It's been awhile since I first came out of the closet. I made that leap early in the first year of college, after shrugging off the demons from both an oppressive religion and also growing up in a very rural area. Coming out of the closet suddenly lifted this weight of secrecy, but even still, a shroud of self-loathing for my queerness still existed.

After many years of this self-repression and fear, I've come to the realization that my sexuality is not something of which I should be ashamed. I've embraced sex as a simple, but very pleasurable, part of my life. I can only hope that it will be an everyday part, more or less.

I've been a constant advocate of queer rights, but in my early days, I felt as though I needed to repent my hidden desires and fantasies. I was able to reconcile being queer, but I couldn't completely reconcile my sexual appetite. I wanted to sow the wild oats, but that basic biological need made me feel primitive. So I tried to suppress my desires, but found myself entirely unsuccessful. Those early college days were filled with a sexual network of guys in the dormatories. Each romp often led me back to the thought, "what's wrong with me?"

I solved my dilemma by doing something seemingly stupid, I tied myself down to a relationship.

Milling About

I felt that monogomy would help me compensate for my transgressive sin of being queer. For a while, in my first and currently longest relationship, it worked.

This relationship was with a much older man whom I was with for almost six years. While I was with him, I was generally satified, and my secret desires were mostly repressed. I had a few lapses, from which wetted my appetite for more, but each time I pulled back and thought "what the fuck am I doing?" The paradoxical thing though, was that I encouraged my partner to go out and sexually explore. I held no jealousy, and I thought that it was only I who had to live up to my own expectations. The self loathing was palatable.

Ultimately that relationship ended because of a non-intuitive power struggle (not quite the power struggle that everyone thinks of in that type of relationship!). I reveled in being single for a time again, and then, out of the blue, I met the man who is now my boyfriend.

This Craziness

Meeting my boyfriend was the best day of my life. It was also the day, although I didn't figure it out until a couple of years afterward, that I would begin an unexpected journey towards my own self-acceptance. We dated for a year before deciding to move in together, we were almost completely compatible. In all the ways that couples are supposed to complement each other, we did. All except for one thing, sex.

My boyfriend has apparently been uncomfortable with sex since before I met him. During the first year, I thought that this discomfort would fade away once we became more established. Instead of getting better when we moved in together, it got worse. Ultimately, he disclosed that he's asexual, and he too thought that his sexual desire might come around with time and familiarity. Unfortunately it didn't, and there I was - sexually charged and very frustrated.

I had to give up monogomy if this relationship was to survive. Our relationship goes deeper than sex, and is fulfilling on many other levels. I didn't want to give up my boyfriend, nor did he me. We had to find a solution, and after a year of attempting to find more traditional means, we finally found something that worked. I can go sow the wild oats, and then I come home.

That's were this blog comes in.

If you want to contact me, I'm at tildarfrick@hotmail.com