For about two years, I watched gay porn. It had become part of a larger habit of watching a lot of porn, with my fantasies shifting as I searched for different material. Eventually, I wanted to find out what those fantasies would feel like with another person.
When I met up with a man, the answer surprised me. I had expected some connection between what excited me on a screen and what happened in person. Instead, I felt uncomfortable almost immediately.
We kissed for only a few seconds. I disliked the sensation, and the firmness of his body felt different from what I had imagined. I wasn’t physically aroused. Whatever anticipation I’d brought with me wasn’t turning into desire.
He could tell I wasn’t into it. We stopped, and eventually we were just sitting on the bed talking.
That was how the encounter ended: two people having a conversation after a hookup hadn’t worked. The fantasy had left out this possibility entirely.
The following week, I met up with a woman. That experience felt completely different. The attraction was immediate, my body responded readily, and the encounter was intensely pleasurable. After how disconnected I’d felt the week before, the difference was striking.
I came away believing that bisexual wasn’t the right description for me. I also felt that my porn habits had influenced what I expected to want. Those were the conclusions I drew from my own experiences; I couldn’t know exactly why a fantasy had appealed to me or why that particular encounter had felt so wrong.
What I did know was that I wanted to stop watching porn. I’d spent two years following what interested me on a screen. After those two very different weeks, I decided to leave the screen alone.
