I didn’t see this, sorry!
I wasn’t raised in a repressive household nor am I worried about what my family would think; despite my father being conservative, I have an enjoyable alternate-universe scenario in my head where I tell him I’m gay because I’d be interested in seeing his reaction. I feel like that isn’t an unusual thing to think about, though. I also entertained the idea of bringing home a guy to meet my dad and seeing his reaction to that.
I don’t know why it scares me. OCD of any sort doesn’t always have logic behind it, and frankly going and looking for meaning/interpretations often triggers it further. Something people need to understand is that HOCD is different from questioning your sexuality, although overlap is entirely possible - you’re not concerned (at least not as much) about your “image” and how people will percieve you if you had a different sexuality, but you’re worried about actually BEING a different sexuality. (H)OCD has a way of reinterpreting your past and telling you things like “You did that because you like girls,” or “you didn’t really feel anything for him.”
And that is so. bloody. terrifying. Because you’re fighting back saying, “No! That’s not me! When I’m not anxious, I don’t think like this.” But OCD still continues to knock you down.
That being said, I’ve actually been in a really good place these past couple weeks. I’ve been starving the OCD monster - whenever it pops up, I push it out of my head. I am finding arousal and pleasure with my boyfriend, and realizing that maybe sexual orientation is a bit more broad than we give it credit for??? Like, sexual stimulation (in the right circumstances) typically feels good, no matter who it’s coming from. What about girls who make out with each other for fun, or for practice? They’re just goofing around. They’re having fun, but not worrying about it.
I dunno. I think I’d feel too weird/off if I ever got involved with a girl. It feels natural and right with my guy. If I were with a girl, my mind would just having constant question marks popping out of it (“do I like this? do I not like this? what does this mean? what’s going on??”). I also think that if I were bi, I’d be open about it and wear the title with pride. I’ve thought things before, when I’ve been stable, like “aw, man. I wish I was gay so I could go to the pride parade and not feel out of place,” or things along those lines.
This ended up being an essay, oops.