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timmy
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Has no life at all |
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13772
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Back in the early 1970s I was, by pure coincidence because I pretty much lived in the students' union building, present at a Gay Liberation Front annual conference. It was held at Birmingham University in 1972 where I was struggling with my sexuality and in denial. There were lapel buttons "Glad to be Gay!" These were before the Tom Robinson Band's song. The badges made me cringe. The song was so much later, but was frightening.
I was not glad to be gay.
A fellow student produced "Happy to be Hetero" and "Wonderful to be a Wanker" badges. I recall the conference attendees buying them, too, both of them.
I was horrified by the homosexual scene. I did not, do not, want to be associated with these prancing, effete queens with their bizarre fashion sense and campness. Nor did the lesbian ladies impress me much.
I wanted to be like almost everyone else, to find girls attractive rather than of academic interest. Beauty, that I could spot. I associated beauty with sexual attraction, and did my best. It was a poor best. I still want to find them attractive today, especially in summer when a huge acreage of leg is on display.
I don't find them attractive at all. Just sometimes aesthetically pleasing
Even today, 42 years after that event I was present at without attending, I find many homosexual things repellent. I cope better with campness, now. I have gaydar, not that it does me any good. But I do not enjpy being gay, do not find it wonderful. I am not glad to be gay. I would be happy to be hetero.
As a homosexual man, I missed coming out when I was a late teenager, and missed actually being a homosexual man. But the homosexual man of the day was reviled. I would have been fired from all my jobs for being homosexual, especially the first one, as a government employee. And, later, computer salesmen are not homosexual. They are the jocks of the employment world.
So I was afraid to be homosexual, and I am, in a large way, afraid to be today. It is, at home woth my wife, an unmentioned fault. I am faulty. Don't waste any time telling me that I am one of the many facets of normality. You may be. I am not.
Living a fake heterosexual life I have a son and a granddaughter. No homosexual life would have given me that. I love them. I love my wife. I love all aspects of my life except my minority sexuality.
Being homosexual is a major stress factor, makes me snappy, irritable, short tempered, and is plain horrible.
"But it's part of who you are!"
So?
[Updated on: Fri, 12 September 2014 14:34]
Author of Queer Me! Halfway Between Flying and Crying - the true story of life for a gay boy in the Swinging Sixties in a British all male Public School
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I know what you mean. For some of it anyway. I'd love to be attracted to women and be able to fit in. To not have to take those covert glances at cute males. To be able to live a life without having to be careful of how I walk, or talk, or what I say, where I look. I'd like to have a girl to be with and fit in with the guys and not worry about what they would all think if they knew I liked guys instead.
Being gay and not being out means hiding a huge part of myself from everyone. It colors every thought and movement and decision. Or nearly.
"Got a special lady?"
"Ever been married?"
"Got any kids?"
Ordinary questions that I fear being asked - lies at the ready. I'm well past middle-aged and can count my lovers and relationships on a single hand. Two of which are females. I nearly went for the long-term hitch with the second woman, and almost married and settled into a family life. Sometimes I wish I had, other times not. But if i had, at least I would have someone and not be a 50-ish bachelor - which raises those dreaded questions I listed above almost every time.
I've never found prancy campy effems attractive. Almost repellent at times. And I don't like the big muscular type either. I'm asked online what I like. I don't know. Just a normal guy. Why can't I just like a guy who's not fem or dominant and be asked why I'm so picky? Picky? What ever.
raysstories.com
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timmy
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Has no life at all |
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13772
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I don't just want to glance. I'm inhibited by the decisions I've taken that have put me in the precise situation I am in today. A couple of months ago I was in Exeter in the Cathedral grounds, watching a hot late teenager holding court to his two friends. He knew he was hot, and his friends were both male. I watched them for some time while eating an al fresco supper of nauseating supermarket material.
If I were uninhibited I would have followed my instincts and offered him the chance to enjoy his body in many and varied ways in my active company. I'm brave enough to. But I've hamstrung myself by placing myself in a loving relationship with my wife. Were I single I'd have gone and spoken to him. Ok, 62 plays 19/20 is unlikely, but it would have been well worth a try!
I have been known to tel folk I'm gay. "I can't wait for summer, all the girls wear scanty clothes." That has had the response of "I wish the boys would take something more off. I'm gay. You heterosexual blokes get all the fun!" I don't mind shocking folk like that.
I also notice that "Girl" in this context is translated as a young lady of legal age. "Boy" is translated as being a stripling youth probably not into puberty. Double standards make me sick.
Author of Queer Me! Halfway Between Flying and Crying - the true story of life for a gay boy in the Swinging Sixties in a British all male Public School
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Pedro
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Toe is in the water |
Registered: March 2014
Messages: 94
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I am about the same age as Timmy give or take a couple of years. I too can see what he means. However, I was always too reserved, gauche or maybe just afraid around girls to even get to the dating stage, never mind the possibility of marriage. That is not to say that I had admitted any homosexual tendencies I had were more than a passing phase, and any immediate urges were satisfied by 'mother thumb and her daughters'. Like Timmy, my first job was with a government agency/nationalised industry, so I stayed in denial, afraid to come out. But remember this is less than 10yrs after the Wolfenden Act.
However in the early eighties I moved to a new job in a north midlands city, and after completing my professional exams two years later, admitted to myself, I might be gay, and decided I had better see what it was about and to try and meet with like minded folk.
Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible I headed for the (only) gay pub in town. I 'played the field' for several months. Like Smokr I don't really find muscles/bears or camp types particularly attractive. Indeed there was one lad who, with hindsight, was very much my sort of thing, but who I dumped because I thought he could become (not was!) a camp type. I will admit to still being ashamed of dumping him, but more especially of the uncaring way I did it.
I did however meet one guy, older than myself, and we sort of got together and went into business together, taking on a country pub. We never deliberately came out to anyone then or since, but people just got used to the idea we were together. Attitudes have changed in the last 25 years, and when I joined my current job about 8 years ago, nobody commented (at least to our faces) when I took / take him along to the Christmas Do, and generally we get no hassle. After 30 years together we recently had a commitment ceremony, to which most people we knew just said it was about time. Maybe we are fortunate in where we live and who we know.
So to answer the question, what is so wonderful about being homosexual? - Nowt, Trying to claim it is wonderful is IMO a denial based coping mechanism. However, being accepting of your homosexuality in yourself, and your being accepted by those around you sure helps to keep the stress and fear levels down to manageable proportions. Yes , I too consider it a fault, but I have others that are in practice potentially more damaging to my own and others wealth, health and wellbeing! They just don't all come with the same social stigma (or visibility)! Maybe I am extremely fortunate. But I can see that I could easily have been in the same position as Timmy, or without his support of his wife and family , maybe an even worse place.
Pedro
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Pedro
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Toe is in the water |
Registered: March 2014
Messages: 94
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Re Timmy's second post
1) just shows how long it took me to write my previous piece. I did not see his post come in.
2) how about using term 'lad' to imply male over 16, avoiding ambiguity of prepubescence in term 'boy'.
3) 'not sure' about the last sentence in the second paragraph. Maybe a careful supportive comment /chat that you had recognised his apparent orientation, but more than that? I think the parallel is 'admiring' your neighbour's teenage daughter (son) over the fence. Eye candy to be enjoyed, but hands off at least until known to be mature enough to know their own mind, especially regards age difference.
Pedro
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timmy
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Has no life at all |
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13772
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"Pedro wrote on Sat, 13 September 2014 17:26"Re Timmy's second post
1) just shows how long it took me to write my previous piece. I did not see his post come in.
2) how about using term 'lad' to imply male over 16, avoiding ambiguity of prepubescence in term 'boy'.
3) 'not sure' about the last sentence in the second paragraph. Maybe a careful supportive comment /chat that you had recognised his apparent orientation, but more than that? I think the parallel is 'admiring' your neighbour's teenage daughter (son) over the fence. Eye candy to be enjoyed, but hands off at least until known to be mature enough to know their own mind, especially regards age difference.
--
I can use 'lad', but I want true equality. No-one speaks of a 'lass' except in areas where dialect makes it usual. I alos hate it when substantially older men than I take Page Three girls to their marital bed, but I, a mere stripling of a youth at 62, would be considered a pervert if I took a boy of similar age to mine.
The youth (groan) in Exeter? Seriously, I was drooling!
Author of Queer Me! Halfway Between Flying and Crying - the true story of life for a gay boy in the Swinging Sixties in a British all male Public School
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Not a damn thing!
Although as a youth (got to love that word Timmy) I welcomed the perceived freedom of obligation (no wife, no house in suburbia, no white picket fence, no two and a half children. no keeping up with the Jones's); as a consequence, I was totally amazed when I found myself, at the ripe old age of 35, committing to the care of not one but two teenaged youths, with my having abandoned my licentious lifestyle in favour of becoming that which I loathed most in life... a restrained homebody.
How fabulous is that!©®
All joking aside, in my early teens being gay meant no responsibilities, completely free and unrestrained and wanton sex with no commitments, endless towel parties, orgies, multiple assignations mornings, afternoons and nights; and for a period of about 4-years I lived that life, bedding all and anything on two legs that had a heartbeat; that is until I met him and everything ground to a complete standstill at age 17, and I trotted off home with him in tow. You know the rest of that story, and it didn't end will, as they seldom do; but, I did try. With his passing I spiraled completely down hill hitting all the worst spots in the Gay canon until one fine day I awakened with a 15-year old youth in my bed who needed a father far more than he needed a lover; and, thirty years later he's my primary care-giver, and heir, and eldest son whom I adore as if he were my own flesh and blood.
Being Gay is a freedom of sorts; but too, it may bring with that freedom, especially in old age, loneliness, a feeling of abandonment and a very real danger of elder abuse.
Having survived all but one of my closest friends from my Gay youth (the majority of these having passed from AIDS-related illnesses) the air that I'm breathing is getting pretty rarified. My salvation has been my two sons Alan and Paul, my volunteer work with the local Food Bank and my association with the local Chapter of The Saint Vincent de Paul Society, and their sundry endeavours for which I'm called upon to serve from time to time.
To answer your question in one word, rather than the four I opened this comment with... nothing.
Warren C. E. Austin
The Gay Deceiver
Toronto, Canada
[Updated on: Sat, 13 September 2014 20:01] |
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timmy
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Has no life at all |
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13772
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Well, yes, but he'd be lovely if I were a heterosexual girl, too.
He is also precisely what I cannot have in my life. And, as I get older, he is less and less attainable unless I rent him. And rental is just sex.
[Updated on: Mon, 15 September 2014 07:23]
Author of Queer Me! Halfway Between Flying and Crying - the true story of life for a gay boy in the Swinging Sixties in a British all male Public School
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It's not about whether you can or cannot be with him. It's about the appreciation of it. You asked what is so wonderful about being homosexual. Seeing and appreciating that beauty is one.
Yes, girls can appreciate his beauty as well, but that doesn't diminish anyone else's appreciation of it.
Anyone can appreciate this scene...
...but does that diminish your appreciation of it?
What's so great about being homosexual? Appreciation of the beauty in the male form. Half the population of the planet will never see it.
I'll never be with anyone like that image either. But I'll never live in a mansion with servants and a garage filled with exotic cars, either. Why focus on what one doesn't have? It only makes for misery.
Focus on what you do have. And you have more than I, I have to say.
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[Updated on: Tue, 16 September 2014 03:19]
raysstories.com
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timmy
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Has no life at all |
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13772
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Quote:Smokr wrote on Tue, 16 September 2014 04:15It's not about whether you can or cannot be with him. It's about the appreciation of it. You asked what is so wonderful about being homosexual. Seeing and appreciating that beauty is one.
Yes, girls can appreciate his beauty as well, but that doesn't diminish anyone else's appreciation of it.
--
I can appreciate the beauty of a lovely girl, too. But my head doesn't turn for the girl, it turns for the boy. If it turns for a girl by accident because I think she is a boy and look and find she is a girl, I can still appreciate her beauty, but I have no stiring in my loins.
Appreciating the boy, if my head turns and I get 'caught' I am disapproved of. Indeed. boys as a whole disapprove. Note how they cover up massively yet girls expose acres of nubile flesh. Boys have seemingly decided that showing flesh is gay and to be deprecated. Girls want shorter and shorter skirts. They want to be looked at. Boys seem to hate it.
Author of Queer Me! Halfway Between Flying and Crying - the true story of life for a gay boy in the Swinging Sixties in a British all male Public School
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Well, I'm not going to argue that it's great to be gay. It's not. It's tough. It's looked down on. It changes how nearly everyone acts toward you. It can change your friends. It can separate you from family. The jack-offs at Gay Authors outted me to my family and tried to convince my family and everyone at their site that I was an online stalker. You have to watch your back and protect yourself even from other gays. In fact, it honestly seems that no group of people are more spiteful, hateful, and deceitful than gays.
I can only argue that it's not so bad. I might prefer to be appreciative and attracted to women, but I'm not. I have to deal with it and live with it. And hide it. I wish it were otherwise.
I'd take being straight or being gay being more accepted. Either one. But I have to play the cards I was dealt.
I'm red-headed, but now balding. Overweight. I wear glasses. I lisp if I drop my guard because my front teeth and tongue are damaged. I stutter when I'm embarrassed or deeply worried. I'm nearly fifty. I wish all of that were untrue. On top of all that, I'm gay.
But on the bright side...
I'll have to get back to you on that.
But seriously, at least I don't steal or rob. Or plot and plan devious or harmful actions against others. Or spend my life dosed out of my mind on drugs. Or try to run for political office.
What's so great about being gay? Who says there has to be something great about being gay? Or there being anything great about being straight? Or being anything? What's so great about being a redhead? Or wearing glasses? Or going bald? Or being overweight? Or having damaged teeth and tongue? Or having a lisp? Or stuttering? Or having to work for a living? Or having to drive to work? Or anything?
What's so great about being gay? Having a relationship with a special someone. Being in love with another. You can get that from being straight, too. But who says there has to be something great about being gay?
raysstories.com
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Ray
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Getting started |
Location: Sydney, Australia
Registered: July 2014
Messages: 26
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I agree it is not so great to (have to) be gay. I knew I was early on (too early) because I fell in love - that is the clearest form of self-branding. But I wouldn't have done quite so early if it hadn't been "arranged" for me by my abuser.
I didn't find it all that wonderful to be dragged into bushes and pissed on by a group of six older boys. Nor did I find it wonderful to find a message on a toilet door at school that other boys should look for me here on Friday after school if they wished to wear panties and be sucked off. I didn't find it especially thrilling to be nicknamed "Fairy" at 12. It was also less than wonderful to be beaten up by football thugs for no more than giving a boy a peck on the cheek in public.
So many talk of coming out. I went in. I have a wife and two boys of my own and I wouldn't swap them for anything. But I agree: it is boys who turn my head in the street and get my dials in the red zone. And it has been very tempting sometimes when sons brought their friends home. But now I know I can keep my hands to myself and help them in other ways. I find I relate better to teenage boys than most other men do. I don't need another word than "boy", but I think the gay me got stuck in adolescence.
I met a gay boy (of 25) recently who positivised my run-down impressions of what I have in life. Hearing I am gay and also have a wife and kids, he exclaimed "Man... you've got everything!" Maybe that is a better way to look at things?
Times have changed, and for the better: there are times I feel jealous about how freely and openly gay teenagers can be here in Sydney. I would never have "gone in" in such a situation, but then I wouldn't have my family. My philosophy is "be happy" - you can always easily think of someone who has it worse.
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timmy
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Has no life at all |
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13772
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Being abused, and also being bullied that way, these are awful things. Being labelled at 12 years old by others is pathetic, and drives the victim deep into victim status, something very few victims are able to recover from without a lot of help. These things are to do with being homosexual, but they are peripheral, if I may say so without demeaning your very real upset at their having happened, to my thinking about being homosexual not being wonderful.
I, too, can relate well to young men. I think I was also repressed, fixed into my teenage years, by my foolish and pointless obsession over one boy. He never aged inside my head, and I never aged alongside that. This leaves me trapped and having had to make a supreme effort to find twenty-something boys appealing. Even so, that is a whole nother side issue, and one I was unable to voice during group therapy sessions recently for fear of being considered to be a potential kiddie fiddler. The others in the group were macho and heterosexual, you see, despite their having gay friends!
Wife? yes, got one. Love her. Child? One of those, too, love him. Granddaughter? Yup, same again. And yes, it's a lot, but we do not "have" them. They exist independent of us and we own them not at all. The problem is that I crave one of these:
I'd like one to talk to without feeling guilty for my heterosexual marriage and without wondering why he is talking to a 62 year old tubby bloke. I;d like one to appreciate me, my sense of humour, and be content over my failings. I'd like the chance of lovong one, knowing that I had a realistic chance of being loved in return, and loved for myself, not for my wallet. I;d like one that I could take to visit friends without other people snarking about him and me behind my back. And yes, I'd very much like his equipment and mine to be in working order and our needs, physical, intellectual and emotional, to be congruent.
This lad is a well known porn star. I don't want him exactly. I want one not unlike him. Imperfect, lovely, and with a smile.
This is why being homosexual is not wonderful for me. I will never, not ever, have the remotest chance of this happening. And, even if it might be possible, what of my wife and son and grandchild? I love my wife. But she never has been one of these.
And, just sometimes, life comes down to a need to hot, heady, glorious, hilarious, joyful sex.
That would be good, too.
Author of Queer Me! Halfway Between Flying and Crying - the true story of life for a gay boy in the Swinging Sixties in a British all male Public School
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Ray
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Getting started |
Location: Sydney, Australia
Registered: July 2014
Messages: 26
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"These things are to do with being homosexual, but they are peripheral"
I could not agree less. They are not peripheral - I cannot think of anything more central!
I regret having mentioned abuse again, because I fear it deflected attention from the real issue here; at least in some eyes. It is not the real issue.
There are a whole bunch of responses to your post, most saying it is NOT wonderful to be homosexual. So what's the problem?
The problem is quite simple: homophobia, which gives us the feeling that society will not tolerate us. The examples I gave were of homophobia; if this did not exist, then we would all have no reason to feel that being homosexual is anything less than wonderful. This is the WHOLE reason: we do not fit in, and are constantly reminded of this fact. All our bleatings about being married and not being able to touch are all down to the fact that "society" will not (would not?) tolerate us doing so.
I decline to think that my experiences as a young teenager are so unique. Many young boys are "obviously" homosexual (fairies) and catch the flak for being so at an age where they are vulnerable. Even now. Especially small town boys. I mentioned Sydney as an exception - where I happen to live - but when the Commonwealth games started this summer it was noted that homosexuality is still illegal in 42 member countries. I know and love Uganda well, and feel for its inhabitants.
What do the other guys think?
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Honestly, Timmy, you need to get a grip. We share a boat. We're both too old to attract the thing we desire. So are straight men our age. They crave one of these...
They couldn't get one without a fat wallet. We all hit that point in our lives. We've passed the point when we could acquire such a PYT without ample funding. Even then, it wouldn't be what you and I want. We're not so interested in the physical only, we want the emotional component, the mutual love and appreciation and affection. Maybe we differ from many straights in that, maybe not.
But either way, we've hit the point when we'd have to rent it.
It's a sad fact of life, just live with it. I have to. A billion gay and straight men do, and have to. The young rarely want the old. Not that way, anyway. There's nothing we can do about it, but fantasize and dream.
We both pissed away our window of time when we could have had such a thing. I was fantastically lucky enough to meet another of my species when I was a younger teen, but that was for a short period during two summers, and I struggled and missed it between, and paid a painful, horrible price for it in the end.
Some say it is better to have loved and lost, than to never have loved at all. Try it. Many times I would trade the memories and experiences away so that the hurt and longing wouldn't exist any longer, even after over thirty years. That one love wasn't enough. It leaves me with the knowledge of - and longing for - what I no longer have, and probably never will experience again. And it fills me with the pain of that loss, as well as THE loss.
At least you have a current love, and a child, and a grandchild. Shut up and stop whining.
Love ya.
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[Updated on: Sat, 20 September 2014 22:20]
raysstories.com
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timmy
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Has no life at all |
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13772
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Trust me, I do get a grip, I get a grip because no-one else will get a grip for me. Relentless masturbation is not really an acceptable substitute for a cuddle, though. I know heterosexual men want PYTs as well. I was too fucking terrified of being electrocuted at my mother's behest to cure me of homosexuality to be able to go after my own PYT. And, just sometimes, I get low over it.
Author of Queer Me! Halfway Between Flying and Crying - the true story of life for a gay boy in the Swinging Sixties in a British all male Public School
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Ray
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Getting started |
Location: Sydney, Australia
Registered: July 2014
Messages: 26
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Jeez, I am going to have to get used to you guys.
Took me ages to figure out what PYT meant. Perhaps i have been "off-line" too long.
Oh, and by the way, I knew a Canadian guy who hated being called "lad" because that means "penis" there. Some are sensitive.
You guys seem different somehow. I guess I never did fit in.
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timmy
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Has no life at all |
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13772
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"Ray wrote on Sun, 21 September 2014 13:40"Jeez, I am going to have to get used to you guys.
Took me ages to figure out what PYT meant. Perhaps i have been "off-line" too long.
Oh, and by the way, I knew a Canadian guy who hated being called "lad" because that means "penis" there. Some are sensitive.
You guys seem different somehow. I guess I never did fit in.
--
I very much doubt any of us fit in either, you know :twisted:
I had to guess what a PYT might be.
Author of Queer Me! Halfway Between Flying and Crying - the true story of life for a gay boy in the Swinging Sixties in a British all male Public School
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Just so there's no confusion, PYT= Pretty Young Thing.
It's an American thing, apparently. Used for females mostly, but of course we homos have conscripted it for our own use as well.
LOL at:
Quote:I was too fucking terrified of being electrocuted at my mother's behest to cure me of homosexuality to be able to go after my own PYT.
The same here, except my step-father was a veteran who'd been a POW and didn't see any reason homosexuals shouldn't be beaten out of their skins, and my mother who thought they all needed their heads and souls examined.
Also for clarity's sake, I never 'went after' anyone. I was far too shy and introverted. But there was simply... 'something'... about the guy, and I simply had to go talk to him. It was entirely unlike me. Even if I got called a homo for walking over to him and he spat on me, I really just had to have a closer look. It was the first time I think I ever went up to anyone, especially someone that I found so... WOW! That first sight of him seemed to somehow change me inside. I had the guts to do it for some reason.
And go ahead and get low over that, and other things. I never meant to imply that you shouldn't. Like I said earlier, I do too. We all probably do. I can't imagine a poncy-boy who doesn't, at least from time to time.
And when you do, come here and gripe about it and get it off your chest, and I'll bitch-slap you a bit. If I don't commiserate instead, that is.
Also LOL at
Quote:Oh, and by the way, I knew a Canadian guy who hated being called "lad" because that means "penis" there. Some are sensitive.
Aren't most penises sensitive? Sort of why their so much fun. Right?
Lad really means penis there? Guess that's kind of handy in Vancouver. LOL
Adds another level to some dialog, though.
"Now son, I expect you and your friend to be good lads while were gone."
"Yes, sir," the boys snickered.
And don't get used to us Ray, we'd loose all our flavor if you did that. And don't fit in. Or change the surroundings to fit you. If we all did that, we'd all be identical, and entirely boring. Remember, there's only one shape that perfectly fits in with all the others around it... a square.
Am I being too American again?
And if either of you bring up that tired old 'triangular/pyramid shapes do too' argument, I'll punch you in the kidney.
[Updated on: Sun, 21 September 2014 18:52]
raysstories.com
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I think I'm very much going against the consensus here, but I actually am glad to be gay. I'll be 60 next year, and it wasn't easy growing up as a gay kid, and coming out caused a 28-year break with my father, though we made up just before he died. I've been queerbashed a couple of times badly enough to need hospital. But, having lived way more than half my life as a happy, fully-out gay man, my sexuality has shaped my entire life in what I consider to be very positive ways.
Growing up, there were no reasonable role models for me. So, like many gay men of my generation, I had to really think about what living as an out gay man meant. What kind of a person could I be? I've never been one for the commercial gay scene, so it took hard work, but "the unconsidered life is not worth living", and it's made me the person I am now. And I *like* that person! My experience of being a member of a (formerly-)despised minority has made me far less judgmental, far more open to my fellow humans, and pretty much of an activist on a range of equality issues: it's informed my philosophical, political and religious understandings. It's helped me understand that human relationships come in a variety of forms, and that they're none of anyone elses's business, really.
I'm pretty much of a "relationship" guy, so of course I've had long periods of celibacy in my life - a dozen years or more at a time. But I've also had a number of richly rewarding relationships ... two in the past 30 years, and both guys are still close friends. Some here may remember my time with Maurice (a street-sleeping HIV+ heroin addict a third of my age when we got together). He's now stable, living with a woman some 80 miles away, and they have a 5-month-old son to whom I'm godfather, as well as a 14-year-old by her previous relationship. Maurice and I still talk on the phone five or six days a week, and I see them every couple of months. Not in any sense a conventional setup, but it fills the father / grandfather slot in my life, I think.
Glad to be gay? Yes, on balance, I can honestly say that I am, and although I certainly wasn't until into my thirties, after I'd been fully out for about a decade I was able to appreciate that being gay has shaped my life in ways that I enjoy and appreciate.
"The ultimate weakness of violence is that it is a descending spiral, begetting the very thing it seeks to destroy. ... Returning violence for violence multiplies violence, adding deeper darkness to a night devoid of stars." Martin Luther King
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ChrisR
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Likes it here |
Location: Western US
Registered: October 2014
Messages: 136
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Fact is, I'm 5'10" tall. That's ~1.8 meters for those of who've advanced scientifically past the Stone Age. There's nothing particularly "wonderful" about it. Nor my brownish hair. Or left-handedness. (Okay, being left-handed really IS pretty cool.)
All of it combines to make me who/what I am. It's the total package that's way cool. 
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Ray
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Getting started |
Location: Sydney, Australia
Registered: July 2014
Messages: 26
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Left-handed - yummo.
But maybe it is just one (or two) people make me think that.
I heard or read somewhere that a left-handed boy is two and half times more likely to be gay than a right-handed boy.
Good line to drive some heteros up the wall!
But I am sold on left-handed boys - someone must be to blame.
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Been thinking about this for a while. I've come to an almost definitive answer, but it's not what some will want to hear.
What's so wonderful about being homosexual is something in common, nearly, with being heterosexual: It's being in love with someone. Or at least involved with someone. Or at least having sex with someone.
What's so wonderful about being homosexual for me? Messing around when I was in school, seriously messing around with a few later, falling in love. Having someone. That's what's so wonderful about it.
And that camaraderie that can sometimes exist among a small group out together is really nice too.
But, am I GLAD to be gay? Well... overall... not really. I think I'd rather be straight. But being gay has created the me that exists. The one that doesn't jump to conclusions about someone because of something I know about them. Or because they are part of some group or another. Who would I be if I hadn't been dealing with being gay in those formative years? Or seen things through eyes that filtered everything through the experiences and thoughts fashioned around my sexuality, the secrecy of it, and the socially forced guilt of it.
About left-handed boys being more likely gay, I do admit there are a few more lefties among the gays I know than the straights, as far as ratio-wise. Something like 20% of the gay guys I can be confident on their handedness are lefties. Maybe five straight lefties, unless you count mere acquaintances I've seen using their left hands. Still pretty sure there are more per-capita among the gays I know.
[Updated on: Mon, 08 December 2014 07:32]
raysstories.com
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