I am an arrogant fat head. That's what my wife called me last night. I think I am more concerned with the “fat head” part than I am the "arrogant" part.
I have always liked myself. Well not always, but even when I didn't like me, I think, down deep inside I knew I was OK. Even when I hated myself for being gay I really liked my smarmy sarcastic humor that I could create in seconds flat to defend my honor. There is nothing like rapier whit to defend honor. Mine was not so much rapier ar rapper; not the most intelligent of rhymes, but a lot of them at once.
I laugh at my own jokes. I think I am hugely funny. I want you to think I am funny, too. I want everyone to like me. If I think you think I am not funny or likable I go nuts. I calculate our next meeting to set up a good joke.
Being gay made me weird. And when I thought you thought I was weird, It got even weirder. I really didn't mind being gay as much as I was terribly concerned what everyone else would think if they knew. I could live with the gay. I just couldn't stand anyone thinking badly of me.
Bizarre, Huh?
The problem was, gay was disgusting. At least everything I knew of gay was. It was sordid, way before sordid was popular with movies of the week. It was filthy; anonymity in a rest room or in a secluded location. Secrecy, Double life and double standard. The occasional politician and scandal.
Walking home from school one afternoon I found a stash of pornography on the side of the road. From that day on I had a face to put on what I thought it meant to be SSA. It was not a pleasant face. It still took me awhile before I connected dots from what I was feeling to what I thought it was to be gay. Gay equaled bad, sordid, disgusting, hidden, scandalous, deceitful, outcast.
And I was Gay. And I liked me.
So, somehow I needed to be okay with myself I was going to have to be OK with bad sordid, disgusting, deceitful... This is the road I went down. I was born with what I feel was a healthy sense of self – a self that was attracted to men. This was okay with me until I was told it was wrong. My heart kept telling me I was okay, my head was so involved with what I thought I was supposed to think, or what I thought the world was going to think of me that I tore myself up.
I am attracted to guys, and therefore I seek out children? I prowl public showers? I pick up hitchhikers?
There are dangers in the world. There are monsters and predictors and they are as
scary as those in bad movie channels. And I was one.
I believe my true self was trying to tell me to lighten up. Did I know that the Lord loved me? Yes.
Did I know I was gay? Yup.
Did I know that I was eligible for as many blessings as any good straight guy? You betcha.
And yet the fact that others thought I was lowest of the low was more important than what I thought of myself.
I didn't really believe I was okay being gay until I was 45. Sad.
ReplyDeleteThose of us who come out way later in life have lived decades worrying about what others think and detesting the "ick" and "bad" factors and dwelling on the self-loathing that we can't be that way because we aren't icky or bad. The longer one lives there, the longer it takes to move out of that mentality. But coming to believe that we are "eligible for as many blessings" as others, despite what others might think about us - now that's a significant step. Too bad it takes a lifetime for some of us to take that step...
ReplyDeleteHmmm, I'm not gay but I feel the same way. It drives me crazy when I think someone doesn't like me. I say it doesn't and I know logically that not everyone is going to think I am as funny and charming and as much of a goddess as I think I am, but just give me a Utah County legislator that thinks I am the spawn of Satan and watch me try and change his mind.
ReplyDeleteNice blog. You make me laugh and think. Laugh first and think later. Sometimes if I am drinking milk I laugh and spew. In that order.
ReplyDelete