I have to warn you, this is not an individual ‘gone wild’ story as much as it is the story of how I had finally ‘gone wild.’ I felt it belonged here because it is the truth – my truth. Rarely is the whole truth glorious. It is often embarrassing, regrettable, or possesses some element one would prefer to ignore or forget. The truth of my sexual development is no exception to that rule.
The fact is I was an extreme late bloomer. I was shy around girls in high school in the early-mid ’90’s. When I tried to talk to them I had no game. Even if I became friends with girls, I was never able to seal the deal and hook up. I played out the textbook psychological defense mechanisms like: having crushes on girls that I would have no chance of getting; the moment a girl expressed or indicated interest in me I’d assume there must be something wrong/unattractive about her; and adopting the ridiculous rule of only hooking up if/when I was in a committed relationship. Hell, I went to my senior prom with an old friend, and thinking back, I’m certain she would have hooked up with me had I made a move, but, of course, I was too much of a pussy.