Page 32 of The Time It Takes

"Not really. I think the general idea was that I should 'man up.'" I made the quotes with my fingers, hearing the bitterness in my own voice. Someone should have cared. Someone should have stood up for that little kid who was targeted so relentlessly. "I was sensitive, I was pretty, I was small for my age." I shrugged, mouth twisting. "And nobody wanted to see it, how much they tortured me."

"What would you say to that little boy, if you could go back and talk to him?"

I thought about that. A lot, probably.

But the main thing, the thing I'd been so scared about at that age, the thing that would've meant the most, was pretty simple.

"Don't believe them. They'll never be half the man you are." I looked him straight in the eye. "Because it's true. I like the man I've grown up to be. Not every single thing, but most of it, yeah. I'm responsible and caring. I give a shit, and I don't hurt people. I show up, and I'm strong, and I'm not an asshole. People can count on me. I do good work."

I wanted to add something about lots of women wanting to have sex with me, but that was hard to say out loud to his face like that. The young man I'd been would've been so happy to hear any of that—especially the part about sex. I'd been so curious, so horny, and so very lonely. I'd longed for the comfort of a girlfriend, a soft, warm, kind girl, someone to love, and an escape from the scary, mean-spirited boys my age. And a way of proving I was worthy, too.

I didn't have sex till college, but when it finally happened for me, when I was finally wanted, it had been such a relief. Like I'd made it.

But life just isn't that simple. Being able to have sex didn't make me mature, or prove that I'd figured my shit out. It had felt like it at the time, but in reality, I'd just been getting started. And maybe now I was finding out I still didn't know the half of it. Literally.

"What would you like to work on now that you are questioning your sexuality? What would success look like for you in this area?"

I had to think about that. "I guess I want to figure it out without ruining my life or hurting anyone." I took a breath and looked him in the eye. "And if I'm into guys, I want to see if that connection can be there for me. I want a happily-ever-after. I want to settle down—all of it. If I can't have it with a woman, I want it with a man. Someday. Even if it takes a while to figure out."

"And if you discover you don't feel that way about men? Will you consider it a success because it was a learning opportunity?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe. I hope so." Would I feel stupid if I went through all this agonizing self-exploration, if it didn't end up in a way that actually improved my life? I couldn't imagine it would be easy to figure everything out at my age, without it being embarrassing—and maybe kind of a train wreck.

"Whatever you discover, it's brave to face the parts of yourself you haven't been able to look at before. Finding out more about yourself will always be a success, even if it's not what you think it will be."

"Yeah, I guess." It was good to hear—like this was an adventure, or I was a knight on a quest or something. Maybe it wasn't just something shameful about me that I hadn't been able to face. Maybe it was just time for my quest. The quest to figure out my gayness levels, if any. "I'll probably be bi, I mean, if I am into guys. It wouldn't erase the years of my life I've spent interested in women. I'm not going to be a different person or anything."

"Of course."

We moved on and talked about some other stuff then, and before the end of the appointment, circled back around to "my plans."

"I'm going to think about it a little more before I sign up for any dating apps or anything. I don't want to leap before I look. But yeah. I guess that's the plan. Figure out how to test the theory. Dip my toes in the water, not dive in head first."

"Do you think you will consider talking to your partner about this? He might understand what you're going through better than nearly anyone else. As a bi man, who's tried to focus on his attraction to women, he probably understands the internal and external pressure better than most."

It was true. If anyone would get it, it was probably Arlie. "Would it be too awkward to tell him?"I wondered aloud. "I don't want to make him feel weird."

"It's possible it would be awkward. It might be more awkward if you figured it out on your own, ended up on a dating website, and he saw you there." He shrugged. "I suppose you could wait to tell him until you have a boyfriend, but perhaps it would be fairer to let him know before that—and to let him offer you advice, if he has any. Bring him in on the process to whatever degree you're comfortable."

"But you said not to experiment with him or anything. Isn't telling him a little too personal?" Even as I said it, I realized that sounded pretty dumb. How was sharing something I was trying to figure out harming him in any way, or using him? If he had advice, he'd be flattered to give it to me.

"Do you think it's too personal for him to hear?"

As if Arlie didn't know more about my life than I'd be comfortable telling nearly anyone. He knew me so well already. It wasn't like I really had a lot of reason to hide this from him. I shrugged unconvincingly. "I just don't want to make him feel weird."

"Do you think he's the one who would feel weird?"

I thought we both would. I didn't know if Arlie would believe me. He wasn't going to call me a liar, but he might think I was just confused. That would be hard to hear when I'd agonized so much over this. Even if that turned out to be true in the end, I didn't want to be dismissed or not taken seriously while I was figuring it all out.

"I don't know. I guess I'll think about it a little more."

I wasn't getting anywhere fast. But the truth was, I'd already gotten a lot farther than I ever would've thought I could, just by being willing to consider, much less talk about, all of these things.

Maybe Arlie would understand. Maybe.