Gay life for me began when I was 40 years old. Having lived the first half of my life pretending to be straight, marrying a nice gal, becoming a real daddy of 3 great sons, I got tired of living a lie. I wanted to experience gay sex for the first time.
I’ve known I was gay even before I knew what gay was. But you know, back in the 60’s and 70’s, even into the 80’s, it was sort of dangerous to be openly gay. Living a gay life was not safe. And it was not nearly accepted then as it is now. So I, like so many others, lived in fear and loathing of who I really was, and became the man in the iron mask for the first half of my adult life. I thought if I just live str8, I would become str8. Deny myself the gay life and it will just go away. I thought somehow I could turn the gay switch off if I just denied myself long enough.
As far as my tickling and male foot fetish goes, seems I’ve always had it, like I was born with it. It’s been a part of me, locked up inside of me all my life until age 40. I have no idea what started it in me. But “in me” is where it stayed, right next to my gay life. I was too fearful, too embarrassed to externalize it. So it remained in my fantasies. I wanted so badly to experience some real foot fetish action. Of course as a child, there were certain times and situations where I could briefly allow it to externalize, such as a moment with a close friend, a quick zip of my finger up his bare sole as I passed by. You know, you foot fetish guys have all been there.
But I always dreamed of the day I could let the tiger out of it’s cage. As a young adult, I was attracted to guys my own age, particularly ethnic guys with darker skin, like Latinos or Asians. But it was always those cute young Asian boys that stirred my sexual juices the most. And as I grew older, my attraction for young adult males never changed. And my tickling and male feet fetish only grew stronger. The only relief I had was creating fantasies in my mind, playing them out while I wanked alone in the bathroom or bedroom. My gay life remained in the closet. And the older I got, the more it became an obsession. I was almost always thinking about cute Asian guys and their feet.
At age 38, and still attracted to Asian twinks, I had this general impression that guys are generally attracted to guys their own age. And I was now approaching middle age, and assumed that no young gay men would want to have sex with me. And I was not at all interested in gay sex with anyone over 25 or so. And so my window of opportunity was closed. No young Asian gay twink is going to want to be with me. I lived a lie, and now the opportunity for an acceptable gay life of happiness is gone. I became depressed. And I’m not just talking about a “case of the blues”. I got seriously, life threateningly, clinically depressed. I ended up unable to work….hell, unable to even get out of bed! I was officially “disabled” and in the hospital I went.
Still in fear of coming out and openly living a gay life, I couldn’t tell my doctors why I was depressed. I was still afraid of being gay. And I was not about to let that cat out of the bag. I just wanted to die. What good would it do anyway? I’m old, no younger gay Asian boy is going to want me, and that’s all I wanted. So gay life remained in the closet, and consequently, my depression only worsened. I stayed miserably sick and depressed for two long horrifying years. I was worthless as a husband, my wife was sick of me, and I was completely checked out as a father to my three sons.
On my 40th birthday, I decided I had only two choices, because I was not going to live another day in this nightmarish depression. And I began to become a big fan of logic and reason. I began to work things out. Because I was ready. Something had to change. I was not willing to live another day like this. So it was either suicide, or a new, honest gay life. My reasoning was this; If I’m willing to kill myself, then what harm could it do to at least try coming out? The option of suicide will still be there, so what could I lose by giving it a try? I really cannot be a husband or father anymore. I hadn’t been any of those things for the past two years. I certainly wasn’t willing to go back to living the lie and pretend being straight. So why not just come out and be honest about who I really am. Try living true. If it doesn’t work out, then the other option will be there.
So I approached my wife tearfully, and got honest. We made arrangements for divorce, I signed my half of our house and everything except what I needed to make a new start, and I moved out and began my new gay life at age 40.
To be continued….