I’ve asked this question before and it's up for discussion based on different experiences.
Queer writers, theorists, and ideologues want everything about same sex relationships to be politicized, as in the headline of this article: “New Study Shows More Americans Are Having Gay Sex" -- which is a value added statement. And which would mean that everyone who has ever had a sexual experience with someone of the same sex is gay (or the offensive term queer).
Is that the case? When you read the article, the researchers involved refer only to the number of Americans who have had sex with someone of the same sex.
Then there’s this. Study author Brooke Wells of Widener University says the data proves that “more and more young people today are sort of rejecting those very strict labels of gay, straight, or bisexual and saying, 'I’m fluid or queer.'"
It was 4 p.m. of the first day of Spring Fest of my final semester at college, and Tom and I were wasted. Our arms and legs were strewn across a ratty futon. Our eyes flickered on and off. Our friends’ bodies littered the room, crumpled up in different corners, either asleep or in a bloated daze. I curled my body to rest my head on his shoulder and whispered, “I’m going to the bathroom. You’re welcome to join if you’d like.”* * *At the beginning of the semester, I had signed up for a Queer Theory course (pass/fail) with a few friends.The class gave me a vocabulary for something that had been becoming more and more intuitive to me: Gender was a bit of a performance. The strict sex categories presented to me as a kid had apparently been fluctuating throughout time and across cultures. Even if a collective agreement to honor ideas such as “women like art” and “men like sports” made them felt, real by experience, that didn’t make them essentially true, and certainly not fixed. Since these norms are defined socially, any group of weirdos can call bullshit, call it something made up — constructed — opt out, and perform it all quite differently.I began to drift toward a gayer crowd. At each party, I observed different ways to inhabit a gender role or sexuality. Queers were like dots on a map, in territory I didn’t know existed, expanding and distorting the borders until it felt useless to try to locate anyone anymore. It made the fist-pumping, beer-crushing hetero-masculinity I’d been cavorting with for several years feel limiting, almost naive.I began to wonder what made these queer folks so different than me. Was it just a choice I needed to make? Was it something they were born with? If it’s based on my behavior, I certainly have control over that, but would that be faking it or something?Tom didn’t shy away from my questions. He was tall with curly brown hair and a bony frame, effeminate. He was the kind of person who when you meet him you think I bet he does improv and then you find out he does. We met freshman year during comedy auditions (I didn’t get in) and became closer as seniors through a leadership group as we each ran a service club on campus. It seemed like a good match. Except that I was straight.He told me to come to a local drag show with the gang. At the lounge, a guy tried to grind with me. At first, I rolled my eyes at my friends. But then I placed my hand on my neck. I curved my lower back and flashed my most seductive smile at no one in particular. Before the hosting queen announced the final number, I whispered to Tom that I thought I wanted to have a “gay experience.”I mean, how come women get to have lesbian “experiments” with little judgment and not men? And if I was going to do it, might as well chalk it up to those crazy college days, right?* * *The door clicked behind us. I knelt on my knees and stared up at him. I pulled down his pants and gripped his dick. I wanted to inspect it further — I mean, how many dicks have I gotten to see up close? But I closed my mouth around the tip. And I gave Tom the kind of head that I would want to receive.As unsure of everything as I was, I had known this was the first thing I wanted to do. I felt somehow that if I got this act out of the way, the kissing and fondling wouldn’t be such a big deal.It was, I felt, the nadir of masculinity.Since I was 8 years old, other boys have crossed their forearms and slapped them against their crotches and said, “Suck it!” to insult someone as cowardly, weak, a pussy. Which I think was part of what made actually doing it so damn thrilling.I watched his pubic hair zoom in and out as I rocked my head back and forth, and I pictured a friend, my dad, myself walking in — what would they think?Heterosexual masculinity is held in check by threat, and men police each other to not break the rules (at penalty of exile). By submitting to emasculation, drowning in it, there was no point in defending myself further. What are you gonna say now? I’vealready sucked it.Then the voices came.They sputtered in haste to explain this plot twist in what had been a relatively stable narrative. “But you’ve always liked women.” “But you play sports and fix things.” “But you have a deep voice and wear workmen boots.” “But you eat lots of food and fart and —”The croaking throats, rushing to the aid of my heterosexual side, were almost comical — it was all in my head! But my brain just pleaded with me, “Please, don’t go there.” A desperate chorus of old men and silly boys.* * *I had always had girlfriends, from pre-K to high school. Looking back, there was hardly a moment in my child and adolescent development that I wasn’t in some way pursuing heterosexual affection and sex — AIM flirtations (A/S/L?), sneaking kisses during snack time, passing paper-football notes in class, making out in coatrooms at sweet 16s.And I’d been quite sexual for as long as I can remember. My first girlfriend at summer camp dumped me because I wanted to kiss her and she wasn’t ready. I think I called her a prude. A small word, with ignominious company like “tease” and “blue balls,” selectively used by straight men to get what they want from women. The straightest kind of word there is. At the time of Fest, I had just broken up with my girlfriend, the second of two serious relationships in college.But I’d already fooled around with Tom. And now I was wandering around the quad, waiting to have sex with him.* * *My pocket buzzed. Where are you?I thumbed back. Slowly. North Quad. Come find me :)Coy.Coming now! I stared at that for a few seconds. He was on his way. So this was really going to happen.The next thing I remember I was high above the muffled laughs and screams, in a dark room, kissing Tom.* * *I lay on my back in his dorm room-size bed and watched him. I watched him climb on top of me, a scrawny torso decorated with wisps of curly brown hair. I watched him reach his hand behind him and grab my dick. And staring at me, sit down.It had never occurred to me that men might have sex staring at each other.But then I stopped thinking about how it looked, and started thinking about how it felt. I tilted my head to the side and quietly moaned. I brought my arms over my head and arched my back.When I could tell he was getting close I told him to cum on my chest. Me! I did that! A straight dude! Right?Then, new voices. Not a gentleman’s croaking ho-hum, but a snarky, taunting voice, manipulative.You? Straight? Sure, dude.Remember when you were 6 and you and Evan rubbed dicks and butts together? Because we do. What about when you were 9 and you and Ross compared penis sizes? And you’ve always been super-affectionate with your guy friends. You laugh and call it “bromance,” tapping each other’s crotches as a “joke.” Whatever you need to tell yourself, bro. Oh, and don’t forget when you and Greg touched each other’s dicks at summer camp. Nearly jerked each other off. Kinda crazy since it was just under the covers and people in the bunk were still awake. Must have really wanted it, man.Just come out already.* * *I got up and looked at myself in the mirror with disheveled hair and red eyes and semen splattered across my pecs. I think I laughed. I’m not sure. It’s a little hard to remember. But I thought I looked ridiculous in his dorm room mirror, and I turned and started looking for my pants.
How many people who engage in same sex relations refer to themselves as fluid or queer? Any more than in an earlier era they identified as "lavender"? It’s a reflection of current political jargon. They simply do what they do, whether with husbands, boyfriends, lovers, buddies, bros, roommates, teammates, cousins, or complete strangers (to name a few of the possibilities).
The article does close effectively by stating: “Overall, it suggests that our sexuality has become much more free and open, that Americans feel much more freedom to express themselves sexually in a way that they see fit.”
http://www.newnownext.com/new-study-shows-more-americans-are-having-gay-sex/06/2016/
New Study Shows More Americans Are Having Gay Sex
"What we're seeing is a movement toward more sexual freedom."
by Cody Gohl | 6/2/2016
New research from Widener, Florida Atlantic, and San Diego State Universities points to not only an increase in same-sex experimentation among American adults, but also an increased acceptance of such behavior.
The study, published this week in the Archives of Sexual Behavior, analyzed data collected over the course of 40 years from 1973-2014. It included responses from over 30,000 Americans who were asked about their sexual behavior and their attitudes towards same-sex relationships.
The results show that the number of Americans who have had sex with someone of the same sex doubled from 1990 to 2014 for both men (4.5% to 8.2%) and women (3.6% to 8.7%). Study author Jean Twenge of San Diego State University says the interesting thing about these results is that they don’t appear to be driven solely by individuals who identify as LGBT; in fact, the number of people who reported having sex with both men and women shot up from 3.1% to 7.7% in the same time frame.
“What we’re seeing is a movement toward more sexual freedom,” says Twenge. “There’s more freedom for people to do what they want without following the traditional, often now seen as outdated, social rules about who you’re supposed to have sex with and when.”
The survey also analyzed trends in public opinion towards same-sex activity. In 1973, 11% of Americans believed there was no problem with it. In 1990, the number inched upward to just 13%. However, by 2014, the number soared to 49%, with 63% of Millenials reporting that they saw nothing wrong at all with nontraditional sexual behavior.
Study author Brooke Wells of Widener University says the data proves that “more and more young people today are sort of rejecting those very strict labels of gay, straight, or bisexual and saying, ’I’m fluid or queer.'”
Twenge adds that “Overall, it suggests that our sexuality has become much more free and open, that Americans feel much more freedom to express themselves sexually in a way that they see fit.”
The article does close effectively by stating: “Overall, it suggests that our sexuality has become much more free and open, that Americans feel much more freedom to express themselves sexually in a way that they see fit.”
http://www.newnownext.com/new-study-shows-more-americans-are-having-gay-sex/06/2016/
New Study Shows More Americans Are Having Gay Sex
"What we're seeing is a movement toward more sexual freedom."
by Cody Gohl | 6/2/2016
New research from Widener, Florida Atlantic, and San Diego State Universities points to not only an increase in same-sex experimentation among American adults, but also an increased acceptance of such behavior.
The study, published this week in the Archives of Sexual Behavior, analyzed data collected over the course of 40 years from 1973-2014. It included responses from over 30,000 Americans who were asked about their sexual behavior and their attitudes towards same-sex relationships.
The results show that the number of Americans who have had sex with someone of the same sex doubled from 1990 to 2014 for both men (4.5% to 8.2%) and women (3.6% to 8.7%). Study author Jean Twenge of San Diego State University says the interesting thing about these results is that they don’t appear to be driven solely by individuals who identify as LGBT; in fact, the number of people who reported having sex with both men and women shot up from 3.1% to 7.7% in the same time frame.
“What we’re seeing is a movement toward more sexual freedom,” says Twenge. “There’s more freedom for people to do what they want without following the traditional, often now seen as outdated, social rules about who you’re supposed to have sex with and when.”
The survey also analyzed trends in public opinion towards same-sex activity. In 1973, 11% of Americans believed there was no problem with it. In 1990, the number inched upward to just 13%. However, by 2014, the number soared to 49%, with 63% of Millenials reporting that they saw nothing wrong at all with nontraditional sexual behavior.
Study author Brooke Wells of Widener University says the data proves that “more and more young people today are sort of rejecting those very strict labels of gay, straight, or bisexual and saying, ’I’m fluid or queer.'”
Twenge adds that “Overall, it suggests that our sexuality has become much more free and open, that Americans feel much more freedom to express themselves sexually in a way that they see fit.”
* * * * * *
A frat boy’s “gay experience”
Isaac Abel | Sunday, April 20, 2014
I always considered myself straight. What happened with Tom left me questioning everything about my sexuality
It was 4 p.m. of the first day of Spring Fest of my final semester at college, and Tom and I were wasted. Our arms and legs were strewn across a ratty futon. Our eyes flickered on and off. Our friends’ bodies littered the room, crumpled up in different corners, either asleep or in a bloated daze. I curled my body to rest my head on his shoulder and whispered, “I’m going to the bathroom. You’re welcome to join if you’d like.”* * *At the beginning of the semester, I had signed up for a Queer Theory course (pass/fail) with a few friends.The class gave me a vocabulary for something that had been becoming more and more intuitive to me: Gender was a bit of a performance. The strict sex categories presented to me as a kid had apparently been fluctuating throughout time and across cultures. Even if a collective agreement to honor ideas such as “women like art” and “men like sports” made them felt, real by experience, that didn’t make them essentially true, and certainly not fixed. Since these norms are defined socially, any group of weirdos can call bullshit, call it something made up — constructed — opt out, and perform it all quite differently.I began to drift toward a gayer crowd. At each party, I observed different ways to inhabit a gender role or sexuality. Queers were like dots on a map, in territory I didn’t know existed, expanding and distorting the borders until it felt useless to try to locate anyone anymore. It made the fist-pumping, beer-crushing hetero-masculinity I’d been cavorting with for several years feel limiting, almost naive.I began to wonder what made these queer folks so different than me. Was it just a choice I needed to make? Was it something they were born with? If it’s based on my behavior, I certainly have control over that, but would that be faking it or something?Tom didn’t shy away from my questions. He was tall with curly brown hair and a bony frame, effeminate. He was the kind of person who when you meet him you think I bet he does improv and then you find out he does. We met freshman year during comedy auditions (I didn’t get in) and became closer as seniors through a leadership group as we each ran a service club on campus. It seemed like a good match. Except that I was straight.He told me to come to a local drag show with the gang. At the lounge, a guy tried to grind with me. At first, I rolled my eyes at my friends. But then I placed my hand on my neck. I curved my lower back and flashed my most seductive smile at no one in particular. Before the hosting queen announced the final number, I whispered to Tom that I thought I wanted to have a “gay experience.”I mean, how come women get to have lesbian “experiments” with little judgment and not men? And if I was going to do it, might as well chalk it up to those crazy college days, right?* * *The door clicked behind us. I knelt on my knees and stared up at him. I pulled down his pants and gripped his dick. I wanted to inspect it further — I mean, how many dicks have I gotten to see up close? But I closed my mouth around the tip. And I gave Tom the kind of head that I would want to receive.As unsure of everything as I was, I had known this was the first thing I wanted to do. I felt somehow that if I got this act out of the way, the kissing and fondling wouldn’t be such a big deal.It was, I felt, the nadir of masculinity.Since I was 8 years old, other boys have crossed their forearms and slapped them against their crotches and said, “Suck it!” to insult someone as cowardly, weak, a pussy. Which I think was part of what made actually doing it so damn thrilling.I watched his pubic hair zoom in and out as I rocked my head back and forth, and I pictured a friend, my dad, myself walking in — what would they think?Heterosexual masculinity is held in check by threat, and men police each other to not break the rules (at penalty of exile). By submitting to emasculation, drowning in it, there was no point in defending myself further. What are you gonna say now? I’vealready sucked it.Then the voices came.They sputtered in haste to explain this plot twist in what had been a relatively stable narrative. “But you’ve always liked women.” “But you play sports and fix things.” “But you have a deep voice and wear workmen boots.” “But you eat lots of food and fart and —”The croaking throats, rushing to the aid of my heterosexual side, were almost comical — it was all in my head! But my brain just pleaded with me, “Please, don’t go there.” A desperate chorus of old men and silly boys.* * *I had always had girlfriends, from pre-K to high school. Looking back, there was hardly a moment in my child and adolescent development that I wasn’t in some way pursuing heterosexual affection and sex — AIM flirtations (A/S/L?), sneaking kisses during snack time, passing paper-football notes in class, making out in coatrooms at sweet 16s.And I’d been quite sexual for as long as I can remember. My first girlfriend at summer camp dumped me because I wanted to kiss her and she wasn’t ready. I think I called her a prude. A small word, with ignominious company like “tease” and “blue balls,” selectively used by straight men to get what they want from women. The straightest kind of word there is. At the time of Fest, I had just broken up with my girlfriend, the second of two serious relationships in college.But I’d already fooled around with Tom. And now I was wandering around the quad, waiting to have sex with him.* * *My pocket buzzed. Where are you?I thumbed back. Slowly. North Quad. Come find me :)Coy.Coming now! I stared at that for a few seconds. He was on his way. So this was really going to happen.The next thing I remember I was high above the muffled laughs and screams, in a dark room, kissing Tom.* * *I lay on my back in his dorm room-size bed and watched him. I watched him climb on top of me, a scrawny torso decorated with wisps of curly brown hair. I watched him reach his hand behind him and grab my dick. And staring at me, sit down.It had never occurred to me that men might have sex staring at each other.But then I stopped thinking about how it looked, and started thinking about how it felt. I tilted my head to the side and quietly moaned. I brought my arms over my head and arched my back.When I could tell he was getting close I told him to cum on my chest. Me! I did that! A straight dude! Right?Then, new voices. Not a gentleman’s croaking ho-hum, but a snarky, taunting voice, manipulative.You? Straight? Sure, dude.Remember when you were 6 and you and Evan rubbed dicks and butts together? Because we do. What about when you were 9 and you and Ross compared penis sizes? And you’ve always been super-affectionate with your guy friends. You laugh and call it “bromance,” tapping each other’s crotches as a “joke.” Whatever you need to tell yourself, bro. Oh, and don’t forget when you and Greg touched each other’s dicks at summer camp. Nearly jerked each other off. Kinda crazy since it was just under the covers and people in the bunk were still awake. Must have really wanted it, man.Just come out already.* * *I got up and looked at myself in the mirror with disheveled hair and red eyes and semen splattered across my pecs. I think I laughed. I’m not sure. It’s a little hard to remember. But I thought I looked ridiculous in his dorm room mirror, and I turned and started looking for my pants.
Great Discussion. Makes you think huh....
ReplyDeleteThis is why I don't let people on here call me bi, or straight-curious. I'm okay with gay, because deep down that is how I identify. Just because I have sex with a woman now and again. (my wife.) doesn't mean I'm bi. On the other hand, just because someone has sex with someone of the same sex doesn't make them gay.
Thanks for this.