This community has tons of followers but lacks content. It is up to those of us that follow here to create content. We all have our stories. Here is some of mine.

I’m in my upper 40’s, bisexual, atheist. I’m married to a woman and I have children. She is aware of all of this and knows the story I’m about to tell.

I was raised in a conservative Christian, Southern Baptist church (US, SE). My father was a deacon in the church and lived true to what he believed, from what I could see. He was generally a really great father, with a few exceptions. One big one is that he hated gays. Somehow he justified it against his faith (or with his faith more likely) and would rant against gays in a vitriolic way sometimes. From a young age he taught me that homosexuality was a “sin,” “disgusting,” “sick,” “perverse.” Even prepubescently, I prayed that I wouldn’t be gay. Even that young, I worried about it a little too much.

I had already experimented and played around with a few of my friends. I already liked it. I liked the way my friend looked naked. It turned me on. Now my dad is telling me that makes me unlovable and broken. He once said gays should be committed. I really wanted him to still love me. I stuffed all the gay thoughts down deep inside.

I suppose its lucky for me that I am bisexual. I often think that gay people and trans people have it harder, generally. I was able to lean into my sexuality with women and publicly was a cisgender straight man. I believed it mostly. I considered myself bisexual secretly, eventually, but there has long been a block that kept me from really acknowledging it. It seems crazy that I just came to terms with my sexuality in the last few years.

Backing up to the beginning; I always knew I was bi. Even as a child. My first memory is of a childhood friend. We experimented with each other when no one was looking. In the end he didn’t want to go further so we didn’t (we were really young, pre teen age) so we didn’t. A few years later I met another boy in our neighborhood. He was like me and didn’t want to stop where my other friend did. This time I balked. My dad’s rants were happening throughout this process. I kept him at arms distance after a few encounters that we had where I was upset at how much I liked it.

Into my early teens, I had a church friend that loved to wrestle with me on his trampoline. I only now understand everything that I felt when he and I were wrestling around and laughing. I wanted him but it was all strictly forbidden, the trampoline in the sight line of his mom’s kitchen window.

Late teens I had stuffed it all back down more but it came out with my buddy that I got high with. We’d get super stoned and party with other girls and boys from my high school. When I’d get super baked I couldn’t help it. I wanted to kiss him so bad. But it freaked me out and I recoiled, stuffing it all down again. My dad wouldn’t love me if I was gay. Move away.

Many series of misses follow. It makes me sick to think about because I denied a whole part of myself throughout my life.

18 - hooked up with a guy but not really the right guy. Left the encounter more confused. Liked it but didn’t like him.

22-26 -I had several opportunities that I missed. My father died at the beginning of that stretch and I started taking a bunch of ecstacy, amphetamines, and cocaine and drinking heavily. That trajectory put me in contact with the gay community in the town I was in. What do you know, I fit right in. I did have a tryst or two, I sucked some dicks and got my dick sucked, but we were so high that still, my fucked up brain tried to write it off. I did realize during that time that I was bi but I rationalized that everyone was probably bi to some degree.

I got clean in my 20s and my life stabilized. I met a woman that loves me and we had children, all of whom are turning out awesome. Now stable with my father long dead, I realize that other side of me is right there. It started a few years ago and I finally see it in focus. I’m an older man who just realized this is an important part of me that I stuffed down. It feels like it needs to come out. I’ve come to terms with it mentally (finally) but am mourning not coming to terms with it physically, when I was younger and hotter.

I still enjoy sex with my wife and am really grateful for her. I also want sex from men I meet. Objectively, I feel that about women I meet too. I am bisexual. If I asked my wife to let me experiment she probably would. I don’t want to risk losing her though. It feels like a slippery slope but I suppose I’m already on it. Still I’ve been monogamous my entire life and will likely stay this way. Kind of hoped this would help someone else, younger, that might read it. Figure it out for yourself sooner than I did.

There is obv much of the story I am skipping over but that is enough for one rant. I’m happy to discuss or fill in missing pieces if there is interest. I’d love to hear someone else’s story? What happened in your life?