For most of my adult life I have been primarily attracted to women, and every romantic relationship I’ve built has been with a woman. More recently I’ve come to recognise something more layered about how my desire actually works. I can experience genuine attraction to other men, but only when feminine energy is also present in the dynamic.
This isn’t being secretly gay or in denial. It’s a recognition that for me, attraction is contextual. One on one with another man there’s no pull, no chemistry, no draw towards intimacy. Add a woman to the dynamic, though, and the entire experience changes shape. The combination of masculine and feminine energies creates a polarity I find acutely arousing, and the interplay generates something that feels greater than the sum of its parts. There’s a magnetic field that emerges between three people that I simply cannot access in any combination of two.
When I first noticed this in myself I was confused. I questioned what it meant about my identity, my orientation, my whole understanding of who I was. Was I bisexual? Had I been repressing something for years? None of the existing categories quite fit what I was actually experiencing.
A way I’ve tried to explain it
For other primarily straight men who struggle to relate to this, I sometimes try a comparison. Think about how visual adult content tends to land. A woman alone is generally arousing, a man alone generally not. But a man and a woman together creates a combined dynamic that most straight leaning people find compelling in a way that neither figure alone would be. That’s the closest analogue I can offer for how I experience MFM dynamics in person, though the in-person version is far richer. It isn’t only visual. It’s an actual energy exchange, personalities and desires intersecting and amplifying each other in ways that wouldn’t happen otherwise.
Since I started talking about this openly, I’ve learnt that my experience isn’t unusual. Plenty of men describe something similar but rarely speak about it because of the social weight that comes with anything outside a clear category.
Why context shapes desire
Sexuality is far more situational than the mainstream conversation allows. Someone can be primarily oriented one way and discover, in specific circumstances, that they enjoy something completely outside their usual pattern. The environment, the emotional safety, the particular combination of people involved, the trust in the room. All of it influences what is and isn’t available to us erotically.
I think about how differently I show up in different social contexts. With some friends I’m outgoing, with others more reflective. My personality responds to who I’m with. Why would sexuality be any different? We are relational beings, and desire often emerges out of specific relational chemistry.
For me these experiences feel completely authentic. They aren’t lesser or stranger because they don’t fit a conventional model. Each one has been a kind of self inquiry, revealing aspects of my sexuality I genuinely didn’t know existed.
Masculinity has more room than we’re told
Traditional masculinity doesn’t leave much space for sexual complexity. Men are expected to be certain about what they want, straightforward in their attractions, and guarded against anything that might be read as feminine or gay. That conditioning produces a lot of shame around experiences that fall outside narrow lines.
Sitting with my own fluidity has required me to question some of those inherited beliefs. I’ve come to see curiosity and openness as forms of strength rather than weakness, and being willing to explore unfamiliar parts of myself takes more courage than staying inside conventional boundaries, not less.
I’ve also had to separate what I understand about my own masculinity from what other people expect of me. Some men experience my honesty as threatening to their own sense of identity, and that isn’t mine to manage. The masculinity I’m interested in includes the capacity for vulnerability, curiosity and emotional complexity. Anything else feels like a costume.
Fantasy and reality aren’t always the same thing
There’s often a real gap between what feels arousing in theory and what’s actually fulfilling in practice. I’ve learnt to pay close attention to the difference between intellectual curiosity, visual arousal and a genuine pull towards physical experience. Just because something is interesting to think about doesn’t mean it will feel meaningful in the room. The reverse is also true: things that seem unremarkable in fantasy can become surprisingly significant once real chemistry and emotional connection are involved.
What’s worked for me is honest self-reflection and, when ready, careful exploration. Small steps, regular check-ins, paying attention to what feels authentic versus performative. Desires also evolve. What’s appealing now might fade later, or something dormant might suddenly come alive. Curiosity is more useful than fixed conclusions.
Emotional safety, and the partner question
None of this exploration is possible without emotional safety. Without it, we stay guarded and never reach our actual desires. Safety comes from feeling accepted rather than judged, and trusting that our vulnerabilities won’t be used against us later.
My most meaningful experiences have happened in environments where I felt fully secure. That includes safety with my partner and safety inside myself to be honest about what I want and don’t want. Having a partner who understands the complexity of her own sexuality has been invaluable. Evie’s curiosity, her steadiness and her capacity to hold space for my self-inquiry have made my exploration possible. She has written separately about attraction, identity and the modern conversation around labels, and if any of this resonates with you, that piece is worth your time.
Labels are tools, not requirements
If I had to choose labels, “heteroflexible” and “pansensual” come closest to how I actually experience attraction and relationships. But no label fully captures the nuance, and I’ve made my peace with that.
Labels are useful when they help us understand and communicate. When they become restrictive or stop matching our experience, there’s no obligation to keep using them. The pressure to define every part of our sexuality creates anxiety in a lot of people and forces them into shapes that don’t fit. What I care about more than choosing the right label is authentic connection, honest communication and being true to what I actually experience.
An ongoing inquiry
Sexuality isn’t a destination, it’s a continuing process of self-discovery. Just as we keep evolving as people throughout our lives, our desires and attractions can keep unfolding in unexpected directions. What I’m sharing here is how I understand myself at this moment. I don’t know what future experiences will teach me, and I’ve come to see that uncertainty as something worth meeting with curiosity rather than fear.
The conversations I’ve had since opening up about this have shown me how many men are navigating similar territory in private. There’s something genuinely worthwhile happening as more of us start to acknowledge that sexuality can be fluid, contextual and far more interesting than the conventional story allows.
If you’re on your own journey of self-discovery, my only suggestion is to be patient with yourself. Stay curious, keep exploring, stay open to the possibility that you might surprise yourself. Trust that whatever you discover will be valid and worth accepting, even when it challenges what you thought you knew.