Gay things that you did growing up, but you hid because you knew they were gay things and didn't want others to know
These are things other than sex.
Lip-synced to records of my favorite female singers and pretended I was in my own private music video.
To be honest, the only thing I hid was that I loved sucking cock by the time I was 12.
I raped all the boys on my little league team.
Please don't tell anyone.
You mean stereotypical gay things? I didn't do anything that I can think of. One thing I did, that wasn't gay but was probably typical of somebody exploring their sexuality, I'd take the polaroid camera and take nudes of myself. You didn't have to worry about developing film. It did prepare me for a brief career of being naked in front of the camera.
I was a strange boy. I was quite aware of being homosexual early on, and didn't hide it.
I also didn't hide it, and I was a child predator. As a child. I went after all my friends at sleepovers. Some went for it, some didn't.
Sneaking a peek at Playgirl magazines at the local McKay's market. I would hide them between the pages of comic books while I tried to get a glimpse before the manager suspected what I was doing.
same with me, snuck peeks at playgirl every chance I saw.
I used to pretend that the mop was women, and I was a famous hair dresser when I had the clean it after mopping. I spent more time in the bathroom "cleaning" the mop, than moping the floor.
International Male Catalogues.
Putting makeup on my sister's Barbie Stylin' head when she was out of the house.
Towel-as-wig/hairbrush-as-mike Cher impersonations in front of my bedroom mirror.
And they said they had no idea.
I dialed the phone with a pencil in the closet.
Gay is sex, doing something queeny is not a gay thing, it is a queen thing.
Dressing up as Vikki Carr when I was 10 and lipsynching "It Must Be Him" to the entire neighborhood.
I'd use my sister's make up. Mostly just her face powder because it evened out my complexion, and sometimes her eyeliner and eyebrow pencil, but I'd almost always make sure to wash it off before I left the house. Once I forgot and got caught in a light rain while running with the neighbor boys. God, that was bad. I looked like something out of 'killer clowns from outer space'.
Read movie star biographies at the library.
So this isn't gay, as much as geeky. And I've never told a soul before now.
When I was a kid (mid 80s), I became obsessed with following pro tennis. I liked trying to figure out the rankings, writing down all the results, etc. In the days before the internet, you had to rely on the sports page to print the results, and I'd try to build the bracket working backwards. It got hard, because the newspaper didn't consistently publish results.
So out of frustration, I ended up creating my own tennis tour. I wrote down all the kids that were in my class, and the years ahead of me and behind me, plus some kids in sports leagues or band. Probably 80-100 total. Then I ranked them all randomly. I built a tennis bracket, and seeded the top players and filled in the other names. Then I "played" the matches by taking a deck of cards, and dealing one to player 1, another to player 2. Whoever had the higher card won the game; six games to a set; best of three sets.
After playing Wimbledon, I played the US Open, and the French Open, and before long I added in some other tournaments. As players won and lost I calculated rankings. I handicapped the matches based on rankings, giving players somewhere between 1-3 game advantages per set.
Oddly enough, I didn't rig anything where my friends would beat the kids I didn't like. But I'd come home from school, go in my room to "study" and deal out a couple of tournaments. I kept all the stuff under the blotter on my desk, so if my parents came in it would look like I was doing homework.
I forgot about this until recently. It's amazing to think how much time I spent creating this little world, and how much fun I had doing it. For the life of me, I can't remember why or when I stopped, but it was probably something I did for a year.
So, not gay really, but definitely very geeky and borderline nutso.
r18, I never did anything exactly like that, but I can identify with it. It's a elaborate fantasy, and I think ultimately very resourceful.
I used my sisters curling iron to see if i could get the "farrah" wings.
I used to hunt down any books, magazines and newspaper articles about homosexuality, squirrel them away and read them when no one else was around. Once I came across this old-timey book called "The Militant Homosexual" chock full o' misinformation...scarred me for a long, long time! I thought I'd either end up a drag queen or "married" to one - yikes!
I would deny liking songs and movies. I remember loving the Wizard of Oz but putting it down each year when it came on tv. My sister would watch it and I'd complain about it as I sat glued to the tv. Same with some of her Saturday morning cartoon choices. I loved Jem and The Littles, but made fun of them to her face. I've since come clean and grown up a lot.
I used to shoplift Playgirl magazines from Waldenbooks at the mall. I stole about five of them in high school. I can't believe I had the nerve and stupidity to actually do it. When I was 18, my mother found them hidden in my nightstand. I came home from school and saw the folder I hid them in sitting on top of the trash. I thought my life was over.
I used to keep my Jem dolls and She-Ra toys hidden in a brown paper sack behind my toy box which housed Transformers, GI Joe & He-Man.
I would rearrange my bedroom like I was living in an apartment in Greenwich village. I couldn't believe it when my mother let me get a sofa and cool lamps!
I used to stand in front of the window in my bedroom and act like i was either just stung by a bee and dying, having a stroke or a heart attack and was dying or yelling at someone out of sight from the window and subsequently was shot by them and now dying. I am quite sure no one ever saw any of these performances, but I was hoping for a frantic Rear Window type of phone call from one of the neighbors to my mother..
After I finished reading the Hardy Boys, I read all the Nancy Drew books.
In the 80s, I would get up in the middle of the night and watch "Making Love" on HBO. I was obsessed with that movie. It gave me hope that I would grow up and meet a handsome man like Michael Ontkean or Harry Hamlin and fall in love. To this day, I still adore that movie.
And I remember recording an ABC movie of the week with Marlo Thomas about a young gay guy called "Consenting Adult." I used to watch that movie over and over again.
I was obsessed with Jackie O and Princess Diana as a teen. I remember coveting a Princess Diana paperback biography but was too embarrassed to buy it at the bookstore. I finally built up the nerve but bought a mother's day card along with it to pretend that it was for my mother.
Too many to list. Off the top of my head:
Tried out my mother's underwear a couple of times. Granny panties. I very quickly lost interest.
Choreographed dances in my bedroom. My parents installed mirrored closet doors in all the bedrooms, so it was kind of like a dance studio in my room. The plus side is I was complimented on my dancing a lot later on.
Looked up anything related to homosexuality at the public library. Unfortunately, one of the few things the library had was some pulp paperback on the true crimes of these two guys who went around killing young hustlers. But I read the whole book at the library. (Wouldn't have dared to check out any of this stuff).
Called up cute boys from my school whom I didn't know and then hang up. (We had a school directory). Later got my younger female cousin to call and tell the boys that they were cute. She loved doing this, and was later "surprised" when I came out.
I think some people misunderstood the title of this thread to read, "Things you did growing up that indicated you have a gender disorder."
People like you, R33, are something else. What are you trying to prove? Do you really need hyper-masculine approval, hmm?
R18, how brave of you to share your struggle with autism with us.
Secretly watch Days if Our Lives in the basement while my sister watched it upstairs, to see if Robert Kelker Kelly would be shirtless in that episode
Secretly watch The Grind to see if Eric Nies would be hosting shirtless
Look up when Exit to Eden was playing on HBO to see Paul Mercurio's ass
Tune into the daytime talk shows to see if there would be male strippers on the show
Watch the Spice Channel (scrambled, of course) and JO to the guys
Browse my sister's teen magazines and JO to the shirtless guys
Browse the greeting card section of the pharmacy or grocery store to ogle the hunky guy greeting cards (I still do this)
And, of course, Baywatch.
Explain yourself r34. Where do you get "hyper-masculine" from? It's clear from some of the posts that they're not talking about gay things (i.e. same-sex attraction), they're talking about breaking gender taboos, which have absolutely nothing to do with what you're attracted to.
When I was about 12 in the mid-60s, I rearranged my room with an Indian motif. I had beads hanging on the door, a big paper globe lamp hanging in the corner by the windows, Indian-motif beadspread, a rattan floor mat as carpeting, and the Four Tops blaring "Reach Out" on my turntable.
I lived in the country and my dad had a large shop/barn with a basketball hoop inside it.
I would often go out to "shoot hoops" for hours at a time when instead I was really performing balance beam routines on a 2x4 piece of lumber.
lol I did balance beam routines on a 2X4 as well! I had Svetlana Boginskaya's routine down pat, though that consisted of me just swinging my leg and pretending I was doing back flips and jumps.
I would lip-synch and dance to all my parents' Broadway show albums when no one else was around.
"...bought a mother's day card along with it to pretend that it was for my mother."
I'd wait for times when everyone was out of the house and pro wrestling was on TV. I'd jerk off to the hotter wrestlers.
Nate Silver origin story at r18
I saw Jackie DeShannon on Bandstand once and became OBSESSED with everything Scottish for at least a year. She wore plaid knee socks so I made it my life mission to get some plaid knee socks. I stared at maps of Scotland every day and my family thought I'd lost my mind, even though I HID most of my obsession.
R26, I did the same thing. My parents, well really my mother, was an antiquer. Every Sunday morning was spent at a large local flea market. My sister HATED it. I of course, loved it. It also really trained my eye in spotting something worth value. I'd save up and buy a Pembroke table, a Victorian parlor set, all sorts of things.
My (thankfully) large room could be configured a ton of different ways, and I changed it frequently. I had a foyer/living room, a private area for the bed and a separate dressing area. I thought it was so unfair that I couldn't have my own apartment. There was an unfinished storage room that was attached to my bedroom. The proposals made to incorporate it into my "suite"
somehow never took off. "I just need a small dormer. PLEEEASE?"
Pro tip from a 12 year old decorator--- long, shoulder high bookcases makes the BEST room dividers! Once, after hosting a bunch of weekend guests, a couple that had stayed in my room remarked on what an interesting guest room my mother had decorated. My mother turned around and said, "Oh, no. That's just John's bedroom. He decorated it the way he wanted." One guess as to my profession.
As a kid, I sucked cock and had mine sucked. I know I know, you're thinking that's not really gay.
In elementary school, I convinced my little sister (who was two grades behind me) to check out "Sweet Valley High" and "The Babysitters Club" books when her class went to the library. She hated them, but I'd read them and give her part of my allowance for her services.
I'd sneak peeks at the Sears catalog men's underwear ads and wonder how big the models dicks were. Back in the day, the Sears catalog was about the only j/o material we had.
Like a couple of you, I would also play with my sister's Barbie styling head and do her hair and make-up. Then I'd undo it all.
R44, wasn't Jackie deShannon from the Southern USA?
R30 wins. That is too fucking precious.
I would cut out pictures of furniture and accessories from catalogs and magazines and arrange them into room settings in a doll house I made from taping shoe boxes together, since even I knew better than to ask for the real doll house I really wanted.
I rode my bike to the city pool every single day of summer (5th-9th grade?) and learned how to swim and dive quite well, all to gain the attention of the gorgeous lifeguards.
I also drank lots and lots of sodas, so I had an excuse to repeatedly return to the locker room to see all the naked men changing.
I caught a glimpse of one of my male teachers completely naked. He had a big cock and a nice body, and he caught me staring. At school, he never looked me in the eye again.
I would go to the shops and buy a bunch of yellow wool to braid myself a long ponytail which I would secure to the top of my head with a clothes peg... instant Madonna.
I would go into the bathroom, take off my t shirt then use it to make a nun's habit (just poke my head through the hole and tie the short sleeves behind my head) and put a bath towel over my head to make a veil.
Not sure if that qualifies as gay or just odd.
Oh, and, before anyone else beats me to it, I grew up to be mid 50's, alone and a failure in everything.
Bless you my children
Sister Maria Von Luke
I used to steal all the catalogs that would come to the house that had cute girls in them and hide them under the mattress in my bedroom. I don't know why I hid them; I just knew that I wanted the pictures all to myself and that for some reason I had to be furtive about it. Ah, the girls in the Delia's catalog... the inflatable furniture and the stupid butterfly clips somehow didn't make them less hot to me.
I love the lesbian version of the International Male catalogs, R56.
I used to believe masturbation was a language (think Morse code) and that I was communicating with some other girl in some bed someplace across the world.
I hid VHS tapes of lesbian-themed movies under my mattress. "Bound" was a favorite.
hahaha @ r58- how does a thought like that even begin?
Couldn't tell you, R60. I was very young (4 or 5), precocious and without common sense. I didn't connect it to sex so I suppose I had to find some other explanation.
I cleaned when everyone went to bed. My dad once said that the cleaning fairies visited. My mother scolded him. After that, he used the term 'elves'. I also re-arranged furniture when nobody else was home, but had to return everything to it's proper place.
When an older brother stole the back seat to my big wheel, I sewed an aubergine cushion for it and stuffed it with grass. What irritated me was that I didn't have yellow paint to cover up the orange plastic on the big wheel. I searched everywhere for paint.
I stocked up on discounted halloween grease paint in November and convinced a friend to apply makeup like KISS. I was always 'Cat'. I also had a vinyl vest with black fringe so I could make up as an 'Indian' even though this friend was part Native American. He was playing Lone Ranger and I was playing Village People.
I also mimicked my mother's diet and exercise fads. She was fighting 50 with Jack Lelane before I was a teen. I'd memorize the workouts and practice them in my bedroom. When she made the mistake of buying AYDS, I scarfed them up and bounced off walls for two weeks.
I used to use my sister's EZ Bake oven when she wasn't around and use up all of her cupcake mix and stuff and she'd go crazy looking around for it.
I used way too much of my step-mom's Paul Mitchell sculpting foam mousse and styling gel until my hair was as hard as a conch. I was a little black boy too, btw.
At age 10 I specifically instructed the barber to cut my hair in a certain way so that when I styled it, it would come to a point down the center of my forehead.
After completing my hair, I distinctly remember tearing the boat collar of my Rising Sun t-shirt so it drapped over one shoulder a-la Flashdance and I rode my bike around the block like that.
There was something so liberating about feeling the breeze on my exposed shoulder. Even at that age, I think I was experimenting with being slutty.
I would look at Madonna music videos for the hot guys. I would watch talk shows with buff guys on.