Summer Camp

People tend to think that bisexuality is more of a very open state of self-exploration than a permanent sexual orientation. It is “homosexuality lite”, “You’re either gay, straight or lying,” Type of comments that fit in a straightjacket.

Some experts, like Freud, concluded that humans are naturally bisexual. My opinion? You know what turns you on, men, women, horses- no need for a label, be it an identity or just a phase. “Bisexuality doubles your chances of getting a date for Saturday night” -Woody Allen. Whatever, I say Carpe diem.

I, for myself, love men. Actually I love penises. Men… I have yet to find some real ones. However, I find real beauty in women. On Alfred Kinsey’s scale of 0 (exclusively heterosexual) to 6(exclusively homosexual), I am not homosexual, I am not heterosexual. In Kinsey’s words, “The world is not to be divided into sheep and goats.” I am sexual, period. Sexuall. I guess that makes me a 3.

So I don’t really have a type, penis or vagina, pecs or breasts (although I don’t do women with pecs), thin or a little chubby, tall or short, hairy or not (women with body hair, then again, I don’t do). Call me nympho, I call myself curious and most of all, appreciative of the human body. The body is beautiful in itself. Sucks for you, I have twice as much variety. And who says I need to pick.

A common belief is that bisexuals cannot be happy when they pick only a man or only a woman. I believe this is wrong. I mean, I’m attracted to brunettes and redheads, but if I date a brunette, I don’t also need to have a redhead on the side. Granted, hair color is insignificant compared to penis/vagina, but the comparison fits my point of view.

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I first knew when I was working in a summer camp with mentally and physically challenged campers. I never learnt so much from two weeks; for one, it gave me the drive to become a doctor, and for two, it got me interested in women. My experience with another counselor lasted three months. She was very feminine, taller, long brown hair, tanned, green eyes, 4 years older. And full breasts. But most of all, it was her voice, the way she walked, the way she looked at me. Her energy. I have a thing for artists. She knew that with every look she got me intrigued to a point when it became unbearable. It was hard to concentrate on giving the best care to our campers when I knew she was staring at me. She told me she was obsessed with checking out my ass. It made me laugh, she would wink at me.

I woke up everyday and gave my all to make our campers happy, sometimes making a fool out of myself just to get a quick smile. But when I let myself think of her, during our few breaks, while cooking, in bed, in the shower, I could always imagine her with me, on top of me, under me. I was at year 3 of experience with men, so it was not that I was getting tired (and I am still not getting tired and I doubt I ever will).

The teasing was very subtle. She knew I had a boyfriend, he actually came all the way from Montreal to visit. She found him very attractive. After the first day, we got very close, we didn’t have the same interests except for the urge to help others. And she helped me allright! The weather was perfect. And the evenings. After a couple of midnight swims with other counselors, we started hanging out on the beach just us two. We were naked in the lake, but nothing happened.

On my second night-guard (every night, one of us had to stay with our group of campers) she came to keep me company. **side note: I discovered that mentally challenged individuals have a very healthy sex life. We actually discovered that one of our campers masturbated every night, and seriously I still wonder if she watched porn regularly because the way she moaned… let’s just say if we closed our eyes we would think she was enjoying the best and, hehe, longest sex of a lifetime. I was very happy for her**

So when the last camper fell asleep, she (the counselor, not the camper!) somehow managed to squeeze in with me in my “sleeping” bag. She must have known that I had never been with women. Respectfully but in a determinate manner, she caressed me while we were talking, like if it was what people usually do. It felt right. Then I got to know her tongue and fingers. She got to know mine. She said she needed me.

I offered to do every night guard. The other counselors were in heaven. I was exhausted, but it was worth it. Every night I was eager to know if she would come back. And she did. I needed her. Quickly it was also the mornings. I love to eat, but it was worth skipping breakfast.

When I got back to Montreal, I would come back to visit her every week for the rest of the summer. I had my boyfriend, and we eventually broke up. I was under the impression that some men liked women who like women, but apparently, not him, and seriously, I did not give a fuck.

Since then, I have not really been with other women. I miss her. I have never been attracted to any of my girl friends that I know are heterosexual. I would try out new stuff if I knew that the other girl was up for it too.

All I know is that I am, most of the time, up for doing it with any of my carefully chosen men. I also know that I want to have a family with a man I will love. Although I will never belong to anyone, men know I belong to them. But for now, what really gets me is challenge. Erotic and emotional. And the sky knows that I am not getting any challenge from guys my age. Actually I do, but that guy is my crush and it’s a secret. I also have a crush on a girl right now. I love the teasing. I hate men who play hard to get. But women who do keep me awake. What gets me is sensuality, way more than sexuality. I’m not a nympho, I’m bicurious. I’m sitting on the fence And I am free.

Piece of Info

Genital Retraction Syndrome (or Koro): culture specific anxiety disorder where the individual is distressed with the perception that that his/her external genitals (also breasts for women) are retracting into the body, shrinking, or even removed.

Recent outbreaks have been reported in Nigeria, Benin and Ghana and generally involve the public accusation of penis theft, often following an unwelcome touch from a stranger.

Some cases in Thailand have placed the blame on Vietnamese Communist agents who would have put chemicals in the water (I’m not joking). Minor Koro epidemics have seized parts of Asia, including a well-documented 1967 outbreak in Singapore. Hospitals were inundated. Many resorted to clamps, pegs, and even a constant firm grip from concerned family members (plural??) desperately trying to prevent the member from vanishing. (again, not joking)

RACISM
In Sudan, victims were made to believe by force of suggestion that their penises would melt away after they shook hands, shared a comb, or received a verbal curse. The Sudanese columnist Ja’far Abbas warned visitors to avoid shaking hands with “a dark-skinned man” or else…

MEDICAL OPINION
Obviously, doctors find that there is no actual shrinkage; any actual damage arises from overly zealous attempts at preventing retraction. Medical response is to inform patients that the genitals anatomically cannot retract or shrink in the manner feared (yes, even if it is very very small)

In my opinion, this disorder is the result of big fat phallocentrism. If Freud came across this, he would probably relate/blame the ‘theft’ on his theory of the female unfulfillable (without technology, that is) desire to own a phallus. (I won’t start commenting on that theory…!)

Definitely, a man without a penis is not a man. Though I am far from saying that owning a penis makes you a man. Mmm… let’s see, brains? It’s a good thing that there are no disorders that make men think they physically lost their head. But then again, you can’t lose what you don’t have. And when they do have brains, it’s not always a conscious ownership. How often do men self-stimulate their brains? whereas their penis…

I understand trying to hold on to your valued possessions. However, in areas where Koro occurs, this phallocentric energy needs to be invested somewhere else, maybe… sex education.

Also, I definitely believe that this type of anxiety is contagious. For example, if you know that this syndrome exists, you might be more prone to ‘getting it’. So sorry.