Thank you for your thoughtful response. I don't think that heterosexuality is inherently better than homosexuality. I just want the privilege of being blind to the nature of sexuality, to live ignorant of it. I mention straight men because the majority of good straight men shield women from the nature of sexuality and their sexuality. They’re afforded an innocence that I think I crave.
I would argue that asexuality is the superior form of sexuality. In my opinion, sexuality outside of reproductive sex tends to have this evilness(I mean this in an amoral way) to it. The only benefit of heterosexuality is reproductive sex. Reproductive sex is the cornerstone of society. Outside of reproductive sex, heterosexuality has “diminishing returns”.
I gladly acknowledge that sex is more than about reproduction. Sex has so many meanings besides reproduction. It can be any combination of love-seeking, union, acceptance, mastery, reparation, compulsion, addiction, trauma repair, revenge, hatred, and transcendence. That’s the evilness of sex. It’s beautiful but horrifying beauty that I would gladly be blind to it.
Ironically, I can identify with my sexuality as I have particular desires that I choose to partake in. However, I can say that it’s a luxury or privilege to be gay just as it is when straight people decide to have forms of sex that they find desirable.
I have a nuanced view of my sexuality. I don’t think it’s wrong. It probably doesn’t follow “natural law”, but I don’t mind that fact.
Your desire to be blind to the nature of your own sexuality is not the same as innocence, nor does it make you “innocent.” The act of sexual contact, within the parameters of consent, is ethically ambiguous. You cannot account for the mentality and psychology of the people involved. However, I’d hope that most times, in circles of civility, it ferments something meaningful.
Your sentiment, which echoes a paternalistic Christian view of sexuality (where the chaste are seen as virtuous), conflates innocence—the elated, guilt-free state of practiced awareness where someone understands the dynamics at play in any given framework, and through self-reflection, understands how to operate ethically—with ignorance, a blindness to those dynamics and how to interface with them.
Additionally, you conflate two distinct types of innocence. Is it the kind that comes from practiced awareness, through refinement of thought, as described above, or the kind that arises from a freedom of energy, unburdened by biases or anxieties about what lies outside one’s control?
It seems you’re frustrated by not having access to the latter while disregarding the opportunity to cultivate the former. I do not deny that there is privilege here, but in light of the opportunity, you attempt to address the injustice by leaving your view or modus operandi as it is, and aligning yourself in a tokenistic way with a fantasy of life that isn’t your own. You disregard the call to explore or deepen your understanding of your own sexuality, and by doing so, reinforce the very limitations you seek to escape.
Moreover, you seem frustrated that your conclusions don’t align with your original expectations. That’s literally the essence of exploration. You will inevitably confront uncertainty, and that’s how we discover something beyond what we already “know.” Since this is about your sexuality something deeply personal I’d posit it still remains “unknown.”
This circles back to my previous post. If you’ve reflected and decided it’s worth investigating something, then you face a dilemma: either align your behaviour with your values or leave things as they are.
To be blunt, this post feels like you’re trying to extract sympathy for neglecting to explore something that is introspective in nature. I get that you feel uneasy, perhaps even overwhelmed, but the deeper truth is that, in terms of ethics, neglecting to reflect or change is still a choice. It would be easier to engage with you if you were genuinely struggling with trans identities or debating the limitations of an eternalistic Godhead providing insight into social behavioural dynamics. But instead, it seems you’re trying to galvanise others with the same righteous indignation you over-identify with, to drown out the only logical inference from your ramblings, which is a call for quiet self-reflection.
Look, you can bury your head in the sand, but don’t appeal for sympathy when there’s sand in your eyes.
To address your arguments:
You repeatedly conflate non-reproductive sexuality, particularly gay sexuality, with something inherently “evil.” This belief inevitably shapes how you perceive the world. By internalising these biases, you reinforce them through the company you keep and the perspectives you adopt. While your posts come across as reasoned, there’s an underlying theme of wanting sympathy for neglecting the reflective work needed to understand your sexuality. However, neglecting parts of yourself for the sake of “heterodoxy” is not a neutral choice it carries its own ethical consequences.
In the same vein, your discomfort with sex seems rooted less in its inherent qualities or quintessence and more in an outdated ideology. The framing of masculinity as order and virtue, while femininity represents chaos or danger, echoes strong Christian influences. This mindset seeks to tame what cannot be tamed. There was a concerted effort to stamp out paganism, natural influences, etc. This stunted us, rather than challenging us to find ways to productively interface with life’s unpredictability.
The notion of a “good straight man” shielding women from the nature of sexuality is also deeply flawed. Sexuality does not belong to men; it exists independently of gender, and women have every right to explore it. Ironically, your reluctance to examine your sexuality mirrors societal pressures that often discourage women from expressing their desires. Both reflect a shared fear of self-understanding and the freedom that comes from grappling with what feels difficult.
Your co-opted idea of “diminishing returns” further reduces relationships to mechanical acts of sexual gratification. Sex is not only mediated via dopamine circuitry, and if I’m just going to correct you on biological terms, oxytocin—which is also released during an act of love—is a positive feedback mechanism: more love = more love. But outside of that your outlook strips relationships of their emotional, romantic, and platonic richness. You externalise fulfilment to heterosexual reproduction, dismissing the value of trust, intimacy, and shared purpose connections that form the real cornerstone of human society, far more so than reproduction alone.
To claim that heterosexual reproduction is the foundation of society conflates biological necessity with cultural and emotional meaning. If we wanted to identify true “building blocks,” we might point to physical laws like gravity or entropy, but these are not the frameworks by which we lead meaningful lives. Reducing relationships and sexuality to biology alone ignores the emotional depth and complexity that give human life its significance.
It’s also contradictory to list sex’s meanings, as per your post (union, transcendence, trauma repair) only to declare it “evil.” Sure, we exist in multitudes, but what you seem to describe is sex’s capacity to confront us with life’s wildness and unpredictability, much like birth, death, or any intense brush with existence, and then dismiss it because it’s not a transactional process from which you can extract exactly what you desire. From what I can divine, it’s your desperation to be “right.”
Navigating these experiences is undeniably challenging, but they are also opportunities to embrace life fully. Instead of fearing them, many find exhilaration a reminder of being alive. To be honest, this sounds super prescriptive—I shouldn’t have to explain this.
Also, repressing parts of yourself isn’t supportive of your self-declared view that your understanding of your sexuality is nuanced. There’s a difference between repressing sexuality and transcending it. Repression denies and suppresses, while transcendence acknowledges and integrates. If you’re willing to confront these complexities with honesty and compassion, you may discover a deeper understanding of yourself. Sex isn’t something to deny or control; it’s something to explore, understand, and celebrate. Dismissing it as “evil” shuts down opportunities for growth, intimacy, and personal freedom. While you say your view of sexuality is nuanced, it reads more like avoidance. If you choose celibacy one day, that’s a valid choice, but you owe it to yourself to explore friendships, community, and connection before arriving at such a conclusion.
Ultimately, the challenge lies in acknowledging life’s wildness and complexity and finding meaning within it not rejecting it outright. That’s just the death drive. I encourage you to reflect more deeply and honestly on your experiences. Please explore community, what feels right to you, truly, and engage with others in real life meaningfully. I know gay rights are likely not where they should be, whether you live, but even experiences of community in terms of hobbies, sports, etc., will help you depolarise a view that is inherently at odds with your lived reality.
