Shame on Y/you!

When i was a little boy, probably four or five years old, i was playing “doctor” with a boy who lived next door.  Don’t even know how i knew about surgery but we were pretending the zipper in our pants was an incision and cotton balls should be stuffed into the opening.  We were so naive that we were doing it in my front yard.  

Who knew at five years old that playing with the neighbor boy’s penis was wrong?  My mother saw what was going on and beat the shit out of me saying, “don’t you ever let me catch you doing that again!”  She didn’t realize that i focused on the word “catch” and carried that thought, fear and judgment most of the rest of my life.  She taught me to be ashamed of my body, my desires, my playfulness, and taught me that i shouldn’t get caught doing it.  

She didn’t catch me ever again.  But she did instill shame…a feeling i have lived with and worked on in therapy for years.  i was so suppressed sexually that i went underground to the places that most people classify as seedy, trashy, and maybe even disgusting.  i sought out sex anywhere and everywhere it could be found.  Adult bookstores were my go to places.  Loved glory hole action.  But it’s not the kind of thing you proudly proclaim to your friends – I sucked off five guys last night at the peep show.  

Also there were treks to the wooded area of the large city park where men who wanted a quickie  with another man would meander for hours cruising the bushes.  There were days when i would be pulled to go to the Public Library where the second floor bathroom was usually active.  Or the bathroom in the Humanities building at the university could be another option.  All this covert and shaming sexual activity came together over time making me label myself as a sex addict – medicating myself with dick to overcome sadness, low self esteem, depression, loneliness.  Who knows if it is a true addiction, but my sexual activities led to enormous feelings of shame and guilt, that in turn had to be medicated with even more dick.

i only got off that viscous merry-go-round when i got really sick.  But, the shame continued until recently, when i realized i was no longer full of shame for having been a bookstore queen.  How did that happen?  It just did!  i suppose with age came self forgiveness.  But, oh those years of angst and depression…what a waste of time.

Now as i work to come out as a Leatherboy i am having some feelings of fear, embarrassment, apprehension, and self doubt.  i don’t want to be labeled, judged, or pigeon-holed as a freak because i am drawn to intense sensation play, impact play, power exchange, submission and other forms of BDSM and Kink.  i want to be accepted for every bit of who I am including the kinky parts.

i feel like that five year old boy again afraid of being caught doing what arouses intense pleasure in me.  But, this time i am not afraid of getting a spanking; i relish the idea.  My fear now is a fear of being ostracized, separated from the people in my life that i love the most.

i have a question for you, my readers:  how do Y/you or did Y/you work through feelings of fear, apprehension, embarrassment and self doubt as Y/you explored Y/your proclivities for BDSM/Kink?  Have Y/you come out to friends or family, or do Y/you keep this part of Y/your true nature hidden from all but other Kinksters?
Thank you for reading,

boy stray

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