I’ve identified as a gay man since my early teens. I’ve always been happy in my identity and – give or take bullying at school, the nasty experience of coming out to my parents (long since healed), and being diagnosed HIV positive 20 years ago – life has been happy and fulfilling. I’ve had two long-term relationships and have now been with my husband for 19 years (still no kids, though we keep trying).
We’ve opened up our relationship and are doing well, having negotiated rules and boundaries. I’ve had a lot of fun: hot sex with guys – both known and anonymous – as well as deep and meaningful connections with casual partners and my husband. There isn’t much I haven’t tried and je ne regrette rien.
However, now that I’m in my 50s, I find myself feeling increasingly bi-curious. Having gone from finding women lovable all my life, but not in the least sexually attractive, my fantasies now unaccountably flip between being caught at the bottom of a slippery, naked rugby scrum and wondering what it would be like properly to pleasure a woman orally. It will never happen – I’m too old for hook-up apps or meat-market bars, and I can’t imagine how, from a practical point of view, I would even go a little bi now.
My husband is a bit weirded out by it all, but he’s generous and trying to get his head around it, so I feel grateful. I’m not at all sure this makes me bisexual, but I’m starting to think polar labels such as gay and straight are a distraction from what we should be aiming for: finding ways to love each other and make a better world. For everyone.
• Each week, a reader tells us about their sex life. Want to share yours? Email sex@theguardian.com
