Homoeroticism is despised by most heterosexual men because it seems to challenge their own heterosexuality — and Bismarck Masangu’s column (“A little wet dream problem”, March 14) is typical.
His article testifies to the truism that the only area in society where sameness is reviled is in the area of sexuality. He feels the need to probe whether the dream defines his sexual identity.
The homosexual dream is not enough to determine his sexual identity. It is, however, intriguing that Masangu is shocked and disgusted over the dream and exhausts himself (and his readers) in explaining why the dream says nothing, nothing, about his proclivities.
Like Masangu I consider myseIf a straight guy. On reading Masangu’s dilemma, I began thinking about what my response would have been to a homosexual dream.
I was horrified to realise I would have probably reacted the same way, ending up in a dialogue with myself to be convinced of my heterosexuality as well.
But surely, I’ve berated myself, one cannot have one dream and wake up with a different sexual identity? What then does Masangu’s wet dream represent?
In today’s terms, sexual orientation is defined separately from sexual identity.
Laura Reiter, a psychologist, defines a homosexual as an adult whose fantasies, attachments and longings are predominantly for persons of the same gender, who may or may not express those longings in overt behaviour, and whose orientation may or may not be accompanied by a homosexual identity. This definition may be extended to heterosexuals and bisexuals.
Recent research acknowledges that both homosexual and heterosexual activities may occur coincidentally in a single period in the life of a single individual. If Masangu had also had this understanding of sexual orientation, he would not have made a fuss about whether the dream qualified him for or disqualified him from homosexuality.
This understanding of sexual orientation means that at one point in time one may have a proclivity towards the same gender without transforming self-understanding as heterosexual. It is therefore irrelevant for me to be thinking of the dream as defining, even in the slightest sense, my sexual identity.
Sexual orientation may also not be cast in stone. It may be a shifting state of being while one may consciously keep one identity.
The issue that I or Masangu should be contending with is the feeling of discomfort that the dream brings. This discomfort emanates more from homophobic cultural socialisation. This is the very thing that makes homoerotic fantasies shameful to heterosexual males while there is an expression of desire that erupts in the realm of dreams.
Masangu would like to view the dream as a “mere freak of the mind”, an isolated incident. This is because we would rather be dreaming of ourselves “conquering” women.
To find ourselves protagonists in homosexual fantasies is a bruise on our culturally acquired masculine ego.
Dreams are complex and sophisticated psychological processes that cannot be dismissed. The wet dream may represent the homoerotic “wonder” of many heterosexual men, of what it might be like to be homosexual.
The argument that sexual orientation may shift and that young adolescents tend to respond to both heterosexual and homosexual stimuli agrees with my opinion that if my first sexual experience is heterosexual or homosexual, then my feelings will be oriented in that particular preference.
This may shift in heterosexuals leading to a “socialisation of desire” that means that the direction of desire may change. Masangu’s discussion of his dream does not understand these dynamics of human sexuality. It is a shock response to the homoerotic fantasy and a way of dealing with the discomfort it brought.
My advice to my brother: don’t be scared.