There was a Jewish comedian, David Steinberg, who once said he had an Italian girlfriend – he taught her guilt and she taught him shame. I come from the guilt side of the equation but always considered the two to be mighty similar. I fear I have finally come to know the difference.
I seem to have found a guy who is in the same place I am – we like each other, we like sex, and you will find us in a motel, not a sports bar. We each have our lives, wives, and are happy. The thing is that I think I should feel guilty about seeing him, but I don’t. So now I feel callous that I don’t feel guilty. Its not that I don’t love my wife and I know that contrary to the don’t ask, don’t tell scenario she would be upset if she actually knew. But I also feel that having been bi in my mind for as long as I remember that if I do not explore – and enjoy- at this point in my life, it will never happen.
The strange thing is that while I seem to lack guilt, I make up for it in shame. With three of five nieces/ nephews being openly gay, one would think this is the perfect family to be open in. (Could imagine a dining room scene out of the movies.) Yet I must confess to feeling ashamed – not being ready for any honesty on the topic. When I started writing this post, I didn’t really expect to end up here, so I think I need to consider all of this.