First things first…. I am a 50 something year old white European man. These things are truths… absolutes. Facts. They are the only pigeonholes I inhabit. They are the only pigeonholes I want to be applied to me. I didn’t choose them. All other aspects of my life are an ever changing patchwork of things, experiences, relationships…. completely transient and never standing still.
I look around me. I see labels. Labels for everything. Rules if you like. He is a… she is a… With each label there is an attached code of conduct. A correct way to behave. It may appear the other way around. The label is applied to modes of behaviour I hear said. Well yes, it is in a way, but there are infinite ways of being and there is no one size fits all. Every single one of us is different. Labels homogenise us.
I remember as a teenager listening to music. One day I was listening to prog rock and the next I was listening to punk. I was a kaftan clothed long haired hippie…. then I was a spiky haired drainpiped punk rocker. I lived my life to fit the label. I no longer listened to Yes or Pink Floyd… I wanted The Ramones, The Sex Pistols and The Clash. I was happy being pigeonholed as a punk. I saw it as being in a club. All good fun. But as with all clubs… there’s rivalry. Like opposing football fans or gay bashing skinheads. There is always a flip side to the friendly fraternity of being in the club.
I started thinking about these labels and our sexuality. There is no aspect of our lives more regimented into pigeonholes than how we choose to spend our most intimate activities and yet no one person’s sexual experiences is ever the same as the next. Psychoanalysts and sociologists make careers out of compartmentalising us into categories. Labels. And so many of us are queuing up for membership to each pigeonhole, blindly conforming to the traits of their attributed category.
I looked at myself. My sexual encounters. My relationships. I had assumed I was “Heterosexual”. Yet my experiences say something different. Was I bisexual? Well that didn’t really fit either. I didn’t fancy other men. I had experienced homosexual encounters yes… but that was purely for the sexual activity, and not a part of some sort of courtship.
I had got chatting with a woman on Instagram about some aspects of this. She is a camgirl… she displays herself and chats to guys. They open up to her. Like being in a confessional. Their deepest fantasies laid bare. Fantasies they have never uttered to anyone else. Fantasies which don’t fit in with the pigeonhole they live their lives within. This woman inspired me. I decided to write this blog… my own personal confessional where I can relate my experiences and fantasies…. Thank you Camgirl! You know who you are.