Hi Lewis,
This is slightly embarrassing to admit, but I think I’ve spent years being a slutty bottom only to realize I might not actually be one.
I’m a bi man in my early 20s, and for most of my adult life I thought I understood how sex worked for me. With women, I’ve always felt more masculine and more naturally dominant. With men, I have felt like the opposite. I wanted them to take charge; I wanted to feel wanted, and I think I assumed that meant I wanted to bottom.
For years, that was the role I played. I wasn’t exactly complaining, but if I’m being really honest, I think I liked the idea of it more than the reality. I liked the dynamic, the attention, the feeling of a man wanting me, but the actual sex often felt like something I was doing because that was the part I’d been cast in.
A few months ago, I dated a woman for the first time in a while, and when that ended, I started seeing men again. Only this time, something clicked. I realized that with women, I really enjoy penetrative sex, but with men, what turns me on is much more about bodies, touch, kissing, being worshipped, worshipping them back, and that intense physical closeness. I don’t think penetration is actually the main event for me with men. The awkward bit is that some of the guys I used to hook up with don’t seem that interested now that I’m not playing the same role. A couple has basically disappeared since I said I’m probably more of a side than a bottom.
Part of me feels relieved, because this finally makes sense. But another part of me feels weirdly guilty, like I’ve changed the rules or become less sexually useful. Is it normal to have this kind of realization so late? And how do I stop feeling like I’m letting people down by wanting sex in a different way?
Cheers,
Jamie
Hi Jamie,
Thank you so much for reaching out.
I feel like a lot of people wouldn’t be self-aware enough to realize this about themselves, let alone articulate it as clearly as you have. The truth is, a lot of people quietly perform sexual roles they’ve never really questioned. And I actually think it’s healthy for all of us to reassess what we want sexually from time to time.
Sexuality is not something you work out once and then keep unchanged forever. We evolve sexually as we get older, we have different partners, and we understand our bodies better. So I don’t think you should see this as some dramatic crisis. It sounds like a normal part of your sexual evolution.
Your letter was really interesting on the point about realizing there are specific sex acts, like penetration with men, that you don’t actually enjoy, while still liking that submissive energy and the feeling of being desired. And I don’t think those two things are incompatible at all.
Being a side is a completely valid sexual identity or preference, and it’s more common than people admit. I think especially in the gay world, or at least the male-on-male sex world, there can be a really big focus on penetration. But a lot of men don’t enjoy being penetrated, and that is completely okay.
Now, the reality is that some people are going to lose interest in you if you’re no longer interested in the kind of sex they want. And that’s okay. They have just as much right to have the sex lives they want. So I think you may have to chalk up some losses here and be comfortable with that.
But it doesn’t make you less desirable. It just means different people are looking for different kinds of sex. I think you should feel confident in your position here, because the alternative is that you keep performing sex you’re not interested in just to remain attractive to a certain kind of man. And that doesn’t sound like a particularly healthy or enjoyable place to be.
Ultimately, the right partners will be interested in the sex you genuinely want to have. So being true to yourself and being honest about what you want is going to increase your chances of finding the right people to have sex with. I think it’s totally fine to tell people clearly and early that you’re more into touch, kissing, bodies, and intimacy than penetration. And you should remain confident in yourself that you don’t owe your previous partners the old version of you.
Ultimately, I think you know what you need to do here. Lovingly wave goodbye to the people from your past who are interested in sex you no longer want to have. Be true and honest with potential partners about what you’re looking for. And get excited, because you’ve discovered something new about your sexuality that you now get to explore. It’s quite refreshing, really, that our sex lives never have to get old, and that we can continue discovering new things about ourselves.
Wishing you all the luck in your new side journey,
Lewis
Bi people often have few other bi people to turn to for support or to ask questions. This means we often can’t build on the experience of other bi people and improve things for the next generation. Ask a Bi Dad is aimed at tackling this.
Lewis Oakley is one of the leading bi advocates and writers in the UK, campaigning to improve the public’s perception of bisexuality. Recognized by the Pride Power List 2021 and with various award nominations under his belt, Lewis has been successful in making bisexuality national news.
Lewis knows more than most how lonely being bi can feel, particularly in those early years. Now, confident in himself, his relationship, and a dad of two, Lewis recognizes how rare and lucky he is. This is why he wants to help where he can by answering the questions of bi people from all around the world.
If you have a question that you would like a perspective on, please email [email protected]. The briefer the email, the more likely Lewis will be able to respond.
*Lewis is not a licensed therapist, and the advice offered in this column is not intended to replace or substitute for any professional advice. If you have specific concerns or a situation in which you require professional, psychological, or medical help, you should consult with an appropriately trained and qualified specialist.