The first time I was on the internet, it felt like liberation to me. I grew up in a time when it was difficult to experience different perspectives other than the commonly accepted ones. What is often referred to as „the narrative“ today dominated back then. On the one hand, it was an interesting time: homosexuality was gradually becoming normalized, the first Pride parades (CSDs) were taking place in Germany, and me? Well, I struggled with the problem that I wasn’t normal either – something that at the time felt more like a curse to me. I wasn’t gay, but I was different.
Today I can laugh about it, but back then, I suffered greatly, and finding help? Someone to listen? Difficult. Psychologists? A nice idea, but it often seemed they needed therapy themselves. Friends? I basically didn’t have any. I was probably too boring, too focused on security, and refused to go along with a lot of things. Too reasonable for a kid, or precocious – which, for most people, translates to annoying.
What else was left? My parents?
My mother was a single parent and, due to the jobs she held, had very little time for me. Besides, she had a way of making it difficult to talk about certain things. She wasn’t mean, she was even understanding – but… well. A boy doesn’t talk to his mom about everything.
That left the teachers! I trusted them exactly once and spoke with a school counselor about my situation. The result? Talks with my mother and – in what was probably meant to seem pedagogically significant – group sessions that involved me as well.
Sexually disturbed! Inclined toward perversion! Man, that stuck with me and hurt even more! It wasn’t as if I had many connections or wasn’t already suffering from loads of self-doubt – no, this unfriendly judgment from these drunkards came on top of it. Not just an outsider, but a sick freak as well? What else could go wrong?
And what, exactly, was so sick about me? Was I into animals? Did I get aroused when something burned? Did I loiter in cemeteries? Or was there something else strange about me?
No!
My only flaw – at least in the worldview of these educators, who in retrospect I would call hollow shells rather than teachers – was that I was attracted to older women. And no, not frail grandmas or infirm seniors. My “sick” attraction was directed toward women in their forties and fifties – women in the prime of their lives, who were attractive, didn’t giggle at every little thing, and with whom I could have the best conversations.
As mentioned earlier, back then, the first Pride parades were taking place, homosexuality was becoming more and more accepted as part of the norm, but my preferences? Judging from the looks and words of the teachers, I must have ranked somewhere between necrophiles, cannibals, and guys who abuse animals.
Me, the little perverted pig, right?
Of course, no one bothered to ask what it was about these women that I found so appealing. The fact that they were so special to me simply because I could engage in wonderful exchanges with them. I still can’t fully describe it to this day, but it has a lot to do with charisma, posture, and inner calm.
And yes, at the time, I had many contacts with women – and men, of course – in that age group. Not through school, but through my mother. She worked at the Roman-Germanic Museum in Cologne, and since the Cologne museums almost all cooperate with one another, I was able to visit them all for free. Which I did gladly and often, sometimes even skipping school to do so.
Eventually, I became as well-known in the museums as a colorful dog, and over time, I established connections with the guides and staff members who don’t usually interact with visitors. Curators, restorers, professors, archaeologists, art experts, and so on. And when I wasn’t roaming through the museums, I was usually in one of the libraries, where I also gradually became acquainted with the employees there.
While my classmates were chasing young girls and making up fanciful stories about conquests that probably never happened, or getting excited about soccer, the latest Nintendo games, or who knows what else, I was getting to know a different world. And yes, these social contacts probably shaped me, but my own generation seemed dumb, boring, and insignificant to me at the time.
I learned things there that would never be taught in school. It wasn’t my world.
Once, I met a woman younger than me who did, however, possess mental depth and that certain inner composure that fascinated me so much. If I’d been a bit less shy, more forward, and had she not been so decidedly married, I might have found her appealing too. So it couldn’t just be about the age – but I only came to that realization much later.
Nevertheless, the judgment of the teachers followed me for a long time. As mentioned earlier, it was the internet that finally showed me that I wasn’t as sick and wrong as I once thought. Initially, it was video stores where my little, dirty fantasies could find an echo in the “real” world. The first time I could actually admire those women in all their glory, who had until then only undressed in my imagination.
And two years later, when I bought a PC with internet access? Well, suddenly there were forums where you could talk about almost anything – and, of course, yep, you guessed it: women! These magnificent beings in so many variations that it made me dizzy. There were curvy ones, athletic ones, older ones, younger ones – there’s nothing out there that isn’t desirable to someone!
And yes, shame on me – I, of all people, shouldn’t judge, but some of it is admittedly a bit… extreme.
Well, anyway.
For a lonely young person like me, it was a revelation. And thanks to the chatrooms that were still popular at the time, I actually learned to talk to “normal” people about normal topics. That might sound strange to you as a reader, but it was really a problem for me. The only social contacts I had were in museums and libraries, and it’s very different for a young person to interact with his peers compared to engaging with doctors and professors, who sometimes took pleasure in giving me little brainteasers, research tasks, or scavenger hunts through history.
I don’t want to speak ill of it! It was a great time, and I learned so much from those people, but as I said, it made it hard to engage in normal everyday discussions. I was, in hindsight, a rather intellectually spoiled lad, I’d say today.
When, during military service, I was forced to talk to others, I struggled, and initially, I was avoided. Understandable, when there’s someone who doesn’t say much, who isn’t interested in what others are interested in. It was only after a while, when others realized that I was merely reserved but not an asshole, that the situation improved.
Well, and after that? As I said, the internet was a revelation back then and also very good therapy for me, helping me get back to some level of normalcy. And it showed me that I wasn’t disturbed, just a little different.
And today, I’ve come to understand that it’s not bad to be different. It can be very painful, yes, but it also comes with the gift of seeing things from different perspectives. And that can make many things seem far less frightening…