I originally posted the following answer on another site back in April 2004.  The question was asked by a friend of mine.  I thought some people might be interested as my answer briefly touches on my opinions regarding the whole "nature vs. nurture" argument.

Was being gay a choice you made, or were you born knowing that you were? If it was a choice, why did you make it?

This is a very question, and deserves a great answer. But the problem is, it's not going to be quite as simple as everyone's probably expecting. Because personally, I think that the whole issue of sexual orientation is more complicated than a black and white question of biology or choice.

You see, it's very common these days to hear gay people say that they knew they were "different" since some early age (five seems to be a common number, if my memory is accurate). I honestly can't say that. And to be honest, I'm personally of the opinion that a lot of people who do say that might be speaking primarily from hindsight. It's too easy to reinterpret our past from the comfort of the present and weave it to fit our current perceptions. I know that this is easy, because I've been known to do it. And I think it's a normal and healthy part of the process of personal growth.

But at the same time, I think we need to be aware of what is happening in some cases. We have to consider that our reinterpreted perceptions of what we "thought" or "knew" in the past may not be 100% accurate. In my opinion, failure to recognize this can also be hurtful to our personal growth. As such, I try to be skeptical of what thought patterns and perceptions I apply to my early life after the fact.

I can say, however, that I knew something was up at around age fourteen. That's when I started having erotic dreams involving other boys. I remember waking from the first such dream (that I recall) and being completely freaked out by it. Having been raised in a Baptist church, I knew that "good little boys" were not supposed to have those kinds of thoughts -- even in dreams! At the time, I tried to comfort myself with the thought that it was only a dream and that all young boys probably go through such dreams. (I believe there is some psychological research that even supports that notion.)

I do not believe that sexual orientation is a "choice" in the popular sense. That's to say that I don't think you wake up and say "I think I'll be gay today" in the same way that you wake up and say "I think I'll wear the stonewashed jeans and hot pink shirt today." As support of my position, I point to my dreams. It was not my conscious mind that decided to consider same sex romantic love. Instead, it was my unconscious mind that introduced the idea of male-male sex through dreams.

From age fourteen until age twenty two, I tried to repress my feelings. I tried to ignore such dreams (fortunately, they were relatively rare). I did this with varying success throughout those eight years of my life. Those feelings would occasionally spill over into my waking life as well. It wasn't just a matter that I'd dream about these things. They'd flow into my conscious thoughts from time to time, as well. Some times, I could push them away. Other times, I couldn't do so. They were simply too persistent.

If you'll forgive a short tangent, I'd like to go off on one for a little time. I must say that trying to repress what one is feeling on a sexual level is a foolish and painful thing to do. To be honest, this is the one reason I don't care for the evangelical Christian stance on homosexuality. While I fully recognize the right of Christians to believe what they do, I can't help but feel a bit of anger over it, having been a product of that mentality. Telling -- or even unintentionally implying -- a young adolescent that what they are feeling is wrong and dirty does nasty things to them. I remember the amount of frustration I went through it. I remember some of the thoughts and fantasies that resulted from the interplay between my feelings and the guilt for having those feelings caused me. I remember some of the things that I wished for (please forgive the vagueness, I'm not emotionally prepared to spell out the details publicly right now) that were terribly unhealthy, to put it mildly. And I've looked at what I had to work my way back through when I finally came out to myself. To be honest, it's very hard to avoid getting defensive over the topic of homosexuality and morality, because of what I know that debate can do to young people struggling with the issue.

In college, I had to quit repressing how I was feeling. I think the best wake-up call for me was the morning after my roommate and I got in a huge fight. I was highly emotional. I had said some things I deeply regretted. And when he came back into the room, I found myself faced with a terrifying and overwhelming desire to "make up" with him through sexual means. At that point, I had to admit how I was feeling.

It was still another year before I finally accepted it rather than trying to fight the feelings. (I wasn't repressing anymore, but I was also still fighting myself over it and condemning myself.) But finally, on 1 April 1996, I came out to myself and accepted my gayness. It's been an interesting life since then.

As I said before, I don't believe that people don't wake up one day and say "I think I'll be gay." But I hope that my story has made it clear that there is still an element of choice involved. My choice was to acknowledge what I was feeling. My choice was how I decided to interpret and define what I was feeling. My choice was in determining how I was going to respond to those feelings. Personally, I think it was the only reasonable choice to make. (I could go off an another rant about most of the supposed "cures" for homosexuality, but I'll leave that alone for now.)

In truth, I think that acknowledging that element of choice is an important thing for gays to do. I think that acknowledging our choices in the matter is a necessary step in the coming to terms process, and the eventual goal of owning our sexuality. It's too easy to say "I didn't choose this." But doing so keeps us a slave to our sexuality. It's only when we say, "I didn't choose this, but I am choosing to embrace it and respond to it on my own terms" that we are truly masters of our own sexuality.

So, Brian, I hope that answers your question.