What percent gay am I?

 “What percent gay am I?”, the client asked.
I was utterly taken aback. It felt like something from the 1950s. And yet it was an honest question from a client at the end of his session.

(A little background: the client was an immigrant of mixed Arab background in his mid 30s. He had been married (to a woman) and divorced and was probably going to get married again relatively soon.)

In addition to all the various techniques of body and healing work that can be involved in sessions, the one constant I try to present is that of space where shame has no home. So when someone asks a question such as “what percent gay am I”, I try to think quickly how to respond in a way that is honest, but will also not shut down the questioner, no matter what I think of the question.

I’m sure I looked quite surprised. But what I said was: “It doesn’t matter. There really is no such thing as a percentage. Our bodies respond in different ways to different people.” This wasn’t the best answer, but it was what I could come up with on the fly. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to give himself permission to get married or permission to play around with guys on the side or permission to suppress this part of himself or what. He had been very open at the beginning of the session about wanting to be more grounded in his body. He had also been open about knowing that he needed help from a man in his exploration.

I know that a question like this is particularly provocative when it keeps resonating and I talk about it (the question, not the client) with others. For me, part of it is that I came out between the ages of 17 and 19 and have never had sexual contact with a woman. This notion of  “a percentage gay” doesn’t apply to me. (Well… I guess it’s 100%…) But the client’s question forced me to think yet again about sexuality as a spectrum rather than a fixed point.

For many men who identify as gay, the first thing that comes to mind when someone comes out with a question like this is: “You’re gay and can’t admit it. The fact that you are even asking such a question shows how conflicted you are.” In new immigrant communities, particularly those where a certain type of machismo is valued, this might very well be the case. However, if I look a little deeper, I realize that this is an opinion, not a fact. Though I have a lot of life experience that shows me how men can delude themselves for many years about their sexual attraction, I really can’t know how all of this shakes down in someone else’s body.

So I remain caught between not wanting to allow the client to remain deluded and not wanting to push my opinion on his situation. My only solution is to invite the client into deeper relationship with his body. If I can get him to appreciate and nurture what his own body has to offer, then whatever “his percentage” ends up being, it will have a more stable and grounded place to thrive honestly. The choice to dive farther is his.