This Gay Relationship

Crossroads

2012-01-04T15:43:00.000-08:00

Used by kind permission
Copyright by http://www.martin-liebermann.de

And so, after nearly three continuous years, I've decided to take a break from writing this blog. This has not been an easy decision to make, but one that's been in the works for a while and one I believe is necessary.

I can't think of a better time than the beginning of a new year to assess what I've achieved with my blog, and to determine if I have anything further to offer on the same range of subjects, or if I need to go in a different direction. Alternatively, maybe my blog has run its course. I haven't figured that out yet.

What I do know is I've put an enormous amount of time and effort into "This Gay Relationship," with the sincerest of intentions, and, for the most part, I'm pleased with what I've shared with you. I also know I want the experience of writing this blog for me, and the experience of reading it for you, to be valuable and worthwhile. And I guess I wonder whether or not that continues to be the case.

Who knows? I could be back as early as tomorrow, if I figure out by then what I want to do with this platform, or if I'm suddenly inspired to keep doing what I've done to see where it takes us. On the other hand, it could be a while before I make an appearance again. I guess time will tell.

Just because I'm taking a break doesn't mean I don't want to hear from you. On the contrary. If you read something in an existing post and wish to leave a comment, or if you'd like to send me an email (see Send Mail at the top on the righthand side), I hope you will. I'd love to hear from you. Even if I don't write anything new, I'm happy to support my work here, and to help with any question you may have or advice you may seek.

In the meantime, there are 429 published posts for you to look at, going back to February 2009, on subjects ranging from how I came to terms with my homosexuality, to how Chris and my relationship works, to how to understand, accept, and love yourself (a subject near and dear to my heart, as it relates to all gay and lesbian people). I hope you'll take this time to dig deeper into what is already here and find something that interests you.

As always, I'm grateful for your time and interest. Far and away, 2011 was the best year ever for "This Gay Relationship," and I met some wonderful people through their generous comments, many of whom I consider friends. It also showed me what's required to keep energy going around a blog over an extended period, and how much time it really takes to do it well. Before I recommit myself, I want to be certain my time (as well as yours) is well-spent.

Once again, thank you, and I look forward to reconnecting with you very soon.

Merry Christmas, Everyone!

2011-12-24T13:47:00.000-08:00

Chris and I wish you all a very Merry Christmas and a wonderful 2012.

And may I extend my sincere thanks to each and every one of you for your interest and participation in my blog this year. 2011 has been the best year ever at "This Gay Relationship," and I couldn't have done it without you.

You mean more to me than you know.

Sanctioned Bullying

2011-12-23T16:59:00.001-08:00

The issue of bullying in British Columbia schools was again raised in December 16 issue of The Vancouver Sun, this time, thankfully, before yet another gay youth took his life. But alarming to me in the article titled "B.C. plans tougher anti-bullying policies to protect students," written by Janet Steffenhagen, was not so much what was said as what was implied.

At issue is the likely reaction of some religious groups should Premier Christy Clark, who's gone on record to say her government will do more to ensure all students are protected from bullying in B.C. schools, propose "...an anti-bullying policy that pays special attention to LGBT students or requires gay-straight alliances in faith-based schools [p. A7]."

On one side of the argument is Doug Lauson, president of the Federation of Independent School Associations of B.C., who's quoted as saying, '"We would be 100-per-cent behind a policy or legislation that was against all forms of bullying.... But to emphasize one form of bullying [such as that against LGBT students] would be problematic."

On the other side is the B.C. Teachers' Federation, which has demanded "...better protection for LGBT students for years." Vice-president Glen Hansman said, '"While it is more comfortable for many [people] to stay within the comfort of generic bullying, the effects of racist and homophobic harassment are very real for the people who are the targets...and racism and homophobia don't get addressed if we only speak of bullying [in general]."'

According to the article, several recommendations have been made on policies or programs that should be in place to protect LGBT students and the type of bullying they're subjected to, but some religious organizations and parent groups consistently raise objections, claiming LGBT students would receive preferential treatment, and classroom lessons could conflict with "...their traditional family and religious values."

I came away from reading this article with several impressions. One is that these religious organizations and parent groups don't understand the severity of the bullying LGBT students endure (something I know a thing or two about, having attended several B.C. public schools in the late 60s and '70s). And what the potential outcome of that bullying is (from overwhelming feelings of worthlessness to suicide, which we've heard a lot about in the media over the past year or so).

One other impression I was left with was that, because these religious organizations and parent groups don't distinguish between different types of bullying, or support the necessity to target each area with policies and programs intended to educate and create greater awareness and acceptance, they can turn their backs on the problem and hope the entire matter of sexual orientation goes away.

To me, that amounts to nothing less than sanctioned discrimination and bullying against lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender youths, because these religious organizations and parent groups believe the youths deserve it. After all, everyone knows being lesbian or gay is wrong; everyone who's gay or lesbian should know better. So, if you don't want to be bullied, stop being gay or lesbian.

News Flash!!! After all the unrelenting bullying I endured over most of my grade schools years, with absolutely no support whatsoever, surprise, surprise, I still ended up being gay. You'd think with everything I'd gone through, I would have gotten the message loud and clear, and I would have changed my evil ways. But, no, that didn't happen. And I'll give you one guess as to why it didn't happen.

Let's agree that denying the existence of gays and lesbians, and preventing gay and lesbian youth from getting the targeted protection they need in schools, isn't going to stop young people from being gay and lesbian. And let's also agree that what goes around, comes around. It isn't some other unfortunate schlub whose children or grandchildren are gay. Chances are you have gay and lesbian people in your family right now.

The best thing you can do for those youths who have no choice but to be gay or lesbian is to prevent them from being bullied, thereby ensuring their academic experience is more rewarding, their self-esteem isn't decimated, they're less likely to kill themselves, and they go on to live happy and fulfilling lives. After all, what's the worst thing that could happen to you personally if your child is gay or lesbian? (Hint: It's not about you.)

What Do I Tell The Children?

2011-12-23T16:25:00.000-08:00

Last evening, after watching "X Factor" (yeah, Melanie, you so deserved to win), I happened to play channel roulette and caught a piece of an Oprah's "Lifeclass" episode on OWN. The subject was "The Truth Will Set You Free," and the first guest was Ellen Degeneres, following the now-famous cover of Time magazine when she declared "Yep, I'm Gay." How many of us as gay men or lesbian women will forget that? What a victory for all of us. How brave was Ellen at the time?

1997 doesn't sound like all that long ago, but I was reminded of just how long ago it was, at least in terms of public attitudes toward gay people, when "Lifeclass" featured reactions Ellen received from some audience members, who were not at all impressed to know she was a lesbian. Of course, there were the usual intolerant Christians, sputtering off the usual religious judgements, making the normally cool Ellen look genuinely uncomfortable under the vitriol of their words.

But there was also a woman in the front row who took issue with the bold and unapologetic announcement of Ellen's sexual orientation--on the cover of Time magazine, no less, in unmistakable, large red letters. She was upset because she was challenged to address the questions her children asked when they saw the word gay and wondered what it meant. "What am I supposed to tell them?" she asked, or something to that effect.

I was stunned by this woman's lack of imagination (but, of course, this was 1997), in part because I couldn't believe she was as clueless as she made herself out to be. Did she really have no idea what to tell her children, or would she rather have not been put in the position of telling them anything at all about gay people? Did it never occur to her she could have said Ellen was a happy, lighthearted, and carefree person? Even better, couldn't she have said that Ellen loves women, and left it at that?

To Ellen's credit, she said to the woman she should have told her children what being gay is, implying to keep it age appropriate, of course. After all, what an opportunity the woman had to present gay people in a positive light and to leave her children with a positive attitude toward them. But, frankly, I can't help but think all the woman had on her mind was what happens between two gay people in the bedroom, when those of us in the know realize how much more there is to it than that.

Happy Homecoming!

2011-12-23T14:12:00.000-08:00

How beautiful is this?

Brian J. Clark, The Virginian-Pilot, The Associated Press

As reported in a number of newspapers yesterday, this photograph, taken Wednesday of this week, shows U.S. navy Petty Officer 2nd Class Marissa Gaeta kissing Petty Officer 3rd Class Citlalic Snell, her partner of two years. Gaeta's ship had returned from eighty days at sea.

As MetroNews reports, "It is a time-honoured tradition at U.S. navy homecomings [that] one lucky sailor is chosen to be first off the ship for the long-awaited kiss with a loved one. Yesterday [Wednesday] in Virginia Beach, Va., for what is believed to be the first time, the happily reunited couple was gay [p. 08]."

This past September 20, the "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy in the U.S. military came to an end. It's no accident the first "lucky sailor" chosen was a lesbian woman.

I'm thrilled to add this to my Positive Images series. How more positive an image can you get?

"Why Am I Here?" (Donna Smaldone)

2011-12-21T16:06:00.000-08:00

Without question, Donna Smaldone, of The You Evolution, and I are on the same wavelength, when it comes to how we look at life in general and some of the subjects we write about on our respective blogs.

But, last week, I was impressed with a post Donna wrote that, in so few words, said so much. Not only that, but, as I read it, I knew I had to share her thoughts with you, because I think you'll appreciate them as I did.

In her post titled "The Question that Does Not Discriminate," Donna doesn't shy away from writing about the key question at the core of all our lives: Why am I here? But, at the same time as she offers an answer (the answer?), she also goes deeper, providing insight and perspective, and touching on one of my favorite subjects (and one I write about from time to time myself)--that of self-worth.

Donna's post had me wishing she'd written it for my blog; I would have been only too happy to feature it alongside a guest post she wrote for me in late September called "You Were Born to Love." But I'm just grateful she wrote it at all, because it confirms what I also know to be true, and what I believe all of us know in our hearts is true.

I sincerely hope you'll take a look at "The Question that Does Not Discriminate" by clicking here.

(To read Donna's guest post for "This Gay Relationship," please click here.)

Thought for the Day, #44

2011-12-16T15:53:00.000-08:00

Writer and activist, Ivan Coyote speaks in schools about bullying as it relates to lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender students (I wish I had that job).

On December 9, the Vancouver School Board's second leadership conference for LGBT youth and their allies was held at Eric Hamber Secondary. At that conference, Coyote is quoted as saying:

I am sick of moving people to tears with stories of casualties from the warfare we let our children wage on each other [at school].... I'm sick of young dead boys becoming icons of public compassion. I'm sick of Rick Mercer rants we share on Facebook with each other; meanwhile, we continue to allow our principals and school administrators to cater to the conservative and the religious right, and pretend our kids don't all pay the price for their apathy and cowardice.

Amen, Ivan Coyote. Amen!

(Quote is from "Dare to Stand Out draws more than 200," by Nathaniel Christopher, published in Xtra!, #478, dated December 15, 2011, p. 10)

The Power of Writing

2011-12-16T15:40:00.000-08:00

Funny thing about writing a blog. Days go by, sometimes weeks, and you have little to say. Then, all at once, things come up, and you have lots of things to write about. This is my third post today, and it's an important one.

In my "It Gets Better" video, one of the ways I recommended that young people deal with the bullying they're subjected to in school is to keep a journal. I suspect anyone who's never kept a journal, or written anything before, wouldn't understand why writing about how you feel is important.

Then I came upon this today, which illustrates, better than I could ever explain, the power of writing. The quote is from "Butches of Belfast, and then some," written by Ivan Coyote, and published in issue #479 of Xtra!, dated December 15, 2011.

Coyote writes:

Last month in Belfast. Writing workshop in a quiet old pub and theatre on a brick-lined lane in the downtown core. She walked in way early, wearing a flannel shirt, sensible pants and work boots. Didn't say much, but what she did say was that she came from a big family of storytellers, always with the stories them, but that she had never ever written anything down, on account of her terrible spelling and grammar. And I do mean terrible, she said.

About an hour later, after we all talked some about the importance of everyone's individual story, I told them all to just write for 15 minutes. Then I watched her, her shoulders set so fierce and arms determined, scribbling mercilessly onto page after page of a small lined journal, tears streaming unstopping and silent out of her eyes and down her open Irish face so hard. I don't know anything about what she wrote, and didn't ask, but holy, was it ever a thing to watch. To watch her write and cry like that. I could feel her relief in my own bones.

In writing, there's always the risk you'll feel the pain, go places you never wanted to--release the terror and the torment. Write it down. Honor your story. Honor yourself. Whether you're a bullied teen or an isolated, lonely senior, your story has value. Your words have value. You have value. Discover that today.

Write it down.

(To read the full piece from Ivan Coyote, one of my favorite columnists in Xtra!, please click here.)

Annoying Telephone Solicitor, 1; Annoyed Gay Man, 0?

2011-12-16T13:44:00.000-08:00

On average, Chris and I receive two to three telephone solicitation calls PER DAY. Yes, you read that correctly. I know, because I'm home most days working on my writing. I hear the phone ring, I stop what I'm doing to go downstairs and look at the call display, and either I answer the call, if it's someone I know or want to hear from, or I hit Cancel.

It's 12:31 pm, and I've already received two calls today. The first was from 866-397-8093 (which called at least once a day, every day, for the past couples of weeks), and the second was from Unknown Name Unknown Number. Those are my favorite; I cancel them automatically.

I tell you this so you know I have sound justification for being fed with the number of calls interrupting my work, trying to sell me something I don't need or want.

Here's how the conversation with today's first caller went:

Me: "Hello!" (The tone in my voice is, I've already lost patience with you, and you haven't opened your mouth yet.)

Caller: "Hello. This is Patricia calling. How are you today?" (I hate when they start like that, trying to be personable, trying to sound like they care about how I am.)

Me: "I'm fine. What is this call about?" (I've always preferred the direct approach.)

Patricia: "Is Mr. this-is-where-they-mangle-the-pronunciation-of-Chris's-last-name there?"

Me: "No. He's at work. How can I help you?"

Patricia: "I'm calling from BMO insurance. May I speak with the wife of the house?" (Oh, this is too easy.)

Me: "I'm Chris's partner." (Making my voice sound as deep as possible.)

Patricia: "Pardon me?"

Me: "I said, I'm Chris's partner." (I speak louder, like Patricia is hard of hearing.)

Patricia: "Oh. Sorry." (Laughs nervously.)

Me: "What is this about?" (I'm truly annoyed now.)

Patricia: "I'm calling you today to talk about different types of insurance for women." (What?)

Me: "There are no women in this household."

Patricia: (Thinks for a minute.) "Oh." (Pause.) "Thank you for your time." (Hangs up.)

In the past, I've written posts about how, as gay people, we should go out of our way to help those who don't feel comfortable with us. Something about trying to win them over with kindness, create a favorable impression, that sort of thing.

What do you think? Did I create a favorable impression with Patricia today? Probably not, right?

This is a picture of me sending apologetic vibes out into the universe for being so short-tempered with her. After all, she's just trying to do her job. Hopefully, I can undo whatever negative karma I created before something awful comes back to bite me in the ass.

But, Patricia, here's what I hope you took from our exchange today:

1). Don't assume every household you call is made up of a man and a woman. There are different types people out there, in different living arrangements, and you should be able to think faster on your feet, so we don't get the impression we're being judged by what you say or, worse, what you don't say.

2). When you learn you've made a call to a gay male household, don't persist in trying to sell insurance for women. This is where you turn off autopilot. I assure you, most gay male households do not have women. End your call gracefully and hang up.

That's it.

Cut the Nasty

2011-12-16T09:34:00.000-08:00

I know this has nothing to do with being gay, except it resonates with me, a gay man, who also happens to be a writer and a lover of anything creative.

Yesterday on ew.com, I read a staff blogger's review of an episode of a TV show I happen to like (I've done this numerous times before, and the result is often the same). The review was decent and respectful, but the reader comments ranged from appreciative of what they'd watched, to scathing cut downs. One even wrote, "Worst. Episode. Ever." At that point, I was pissed off and stopped reading. I'd allowed other people's negativity to get to me, and I didn't need it.

See, the problem with so many of these websites is there's no accountability for comments. People select aliases, write whatever nasty comments come to them in the moment, and take no ownership for their words, ideas (if you could call them that), or energy.

So, here's the best advice I've heard, which, as far as I'm concerned, applies to bloggers and commenters who write any damn thing they want to, sending their negative venom out into the world and thinking they're somehow benefiting the planet.

Steve Jobs, the late CEO and creative genius behind Apple, said it best:

"...What have you done that's so great? Do you create anything, or just criticize others' work...?"

Being clever, insightful, and smart is one thing. Being bitchy, nasty, and insulting is something else altogether. There's a fine line. Don't go over it. No one wants your negative energy in his space.

Practice gratitude.

Focus on doing something creative. Learn just how tough it is.

And in case my advice and Jobs's questions don't hit the mark, remember what I hope your parents taught you:

"If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all."

I'm done.

Make Some "Noise" (Gavin Creel and Robbie Roth)

2011-12-13T13:23:00.000-08:00

Last evening, I received the following email from Toronto songwriter Robbie Roth:

I wanted to bring to your attention a song that I wrote with Gavin Creel, a Tony-nominated performer from America.

The song is called "Noise," and we wrote it in support of gay rights and the fight for marriage equality in the [United] States.

We have just posted the song and an accompanying video online, and we are giving 100% of the proceeds from the single to an organization called Broadway Impact, which is advocating for this cause on a grassroots level.

I'm sending this to you in the hopes that bloggers of influence might embrace the song and continue to spread the message. The song is available for download on iTunes.

Hope you get a moment to check it out.

Here was my response to Robbie today:

Thanks so much for your interest in my blog and for thinking I could play a role in making the "Noise" level even higher.

As you can imagine, I'm approached by any number of people asking me to endorse their products and services. In every case, I've told them I'm not interested, because what they sell is usually inconsistent with the spirit or intent of my words (and because I'm not trying to sell anything but ideas, anyway).

That, however, is not the case with the outstanding song you and Gavin wrote. I'm all about human rights for gay and lesbian people, and speaking up for what we deserve as citizens of this earth.

It would be a pleasure for me to feature your song in a dedicated blog post, and to play my part in helping to spread your powerful message.

On behalf of all gay and lesbian people, thanks to you both for writing this amazing song, and for encouraging us to make some "Noise." I appreciate the opportunity to spread the message, and I wish you every success with your efforts.

I heartily encourage you all to view the video below, and, if you enjoy the song (which I'm confident you will), to go to iTunes and purchase it. The song is great, and so is the cause you'll support.

Gavin Creel had the following to say about "Noise":

"Noise" is about "...fighting silence and complacency, and being heard; a song that will hopefully fire people up to speak out for gay rights and make a loud noise so that all those treated unjustly, simply for being who they are and loving who they love, can hear and feel hope. I dream of making a musical statement with this song in a way that I don't see enough in the music industry--a balls out, no hiding its intention, anthem for our movement."

(The above quote is from perezhilton.com.)

Response to the Letter From Will Travis

2011-12-12T12:32:00.000-08:00

In seeking an online reference to the letter Will Travis recently wrote to Xtra!, expressing his opinion (and mine) that inspired my post titled "On the Tenth Anniversary of Aaron Webster's Murder," published last Friday, I found the following comment from Thomas, who lives in Vancouver.

I share this with you because of its honesty, and because it says a great deal about the place some gay men find themselves. On the one hand, I deplore cruising in public places for sex--I've never done it, no matter how desperate I was to feel the warmth of another human being near me, and I would never consider doing it, because I believe I have more respect for myself than that. On the other hand, who knows what one could find oneself doing under specific circumstances? Never say never...

From the point of view of these men, I see the function cruising fulfills, even understanding its necessity, and how they are driven to do it. Thus, it's difficult for me to pass judgement on them, when I recognize they not only feel disenfranchised from society in general (as many gay men do), but also from the gay male community. Feeling largely disenfranchised from the gay male community over the years, I get cruising and anonymous sex with men in parks, or at least a part of me does. But, in my heart, I know it's not the route to go, and I hope for so much better for us.

If I sound conflicted about cruising, it's because I am. I can't presume to understand all the many reasons why one gay man cruises public parks for sex while another doesn't. But I believe Thomas's letter is telling and insightful, giving us a better understanding of a segment of our community, and challenging us to be more inclusive of our own--no matter where they fall on the scale of being cute or pretty or handsome or youthful or muscular or hairy or well-endowed or whatever the case may be.

As I write this, it occurs to me that, as gay men, we want to be accepted by society. But so much a part of that is first accepting ourselves and each other. It's easy to criticize many straight people for their judgements and bigotry and discrimination against us, but comments like Thomas's must force us to take a hard look at ourselves, ask whether or not we're doing the very same thing to our brothers, and, if we are, what we're prepared to do about it.

For the purpose of clarity, I've edited the comment in question. If you wish to read it in its original form, please click here.

Will Travis's judgements pertaining to park cruisers omits compassion and understanding.

What we're really dealing with in Stanley Park's cruising area are an assortment of lonely, depressed, damaged, abused, and forgotten souls who are desperate for human touch. ...There are souls in this world who have suffered unimaginable pain, abuse, and experiences that have impaired their ability to socialize, respond to, and perceive people and the world around them in a healthy, logical way. There is a need for these men to connect. In many cases, it's all that keeps them alive.

For these men, the local gay scene is an abusive, judging, socially bankrupt wreck beyond anything words can describe. The gay community has a way of rolling out cruelty and bigotry surpassing anything that straights could ever deliver.

Men have been cruising parks in cities around the world for thousands of years, and nothing is ever going to change that. Even in the Middle East, where they face a death sentence for seeking each other, they still take that risk.

An evolved city accepts the reality of human nature and sexuality, and takes a discrete approach. What two people do in a place where there's a reasonable expectation of privacy is their own business. Sending police to harass and call cruisers 'sex predators' is pitiful. A predator is someone who victimizes, plunders, and destroys for their own personal gain.

In my ten years of cruising, I've met some very tortured souls, that I was only too happy to hold...

On the Tenth Anniversary of Aaron Webster's Murder

2011-12-09T10:18:00.001-08:00

(Note: Some material in this post may not appeal to all readers. Please use your discretion.)

Thank God for Will Travis of Surrey, B. C. He had the balls to write a letter to Xtra! recently and say what not only he thought for the past ten years, but what I, and many other gay men like us, also thought about the Aaron Webster murder.

For those of you unfamiliar with the details of this case, here's the story as it appears on Wikipedia:

"Aaron Webster was a gay man living in Vancouver, British Columbia...who was beaten by a group of men close to a gay cruising area in a woody part of Stanley Park...on November 17, 2001. According to reports, the youths came across a nearly naked Webster and chased him to a parking area where they beat him with baseball bats. After the beating, Webster was found beside a path in the park by his close friend..." and died in his friend's arms.

Rightfully, the gay community in Vancouver was outraged by Webster's death, organizing a vigil and march held the day following the murder. Hundreds participated, walking "...through the streets of downtown Vancouver toward the site of Webster's death. Another rally, including [the then] B. C. Human Rights Commissioner..., was held several weeks later. Vigils were also held in several other Canadian cities."

I'd be the first to admit nothing should take away from the tragic death of a human being; we cannot lose sight of what happened to this man. Aaron Webster didn't deserve to die. End of story. He was not a threat to anyone. He was nothing more than a harmless, forty-two-year-old gay man...in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

And that's exactly the problem. In all the reporting around Webster's death over the past ten years--everything from it being the first gay-related murder to gain widespread media attention in Canada, to "...whether the attack constituted a hate-crime"--no one asked the obvious question: What was Aaron Webster doing, almost naked, in a public park, in the middle of the night, looking for sex?

Here's what Will Travis had to say in his letter to Xtra!, appearing in issue #477, dated December 1, 2011:

In our Western society, we have a sanction against public nudity and especially against public sex. That's not to deny that in certain singular centres...licensed whorehouses do legally display their lascivious flesh in public spaces. Stanley Park is not one of those places.

Stanley Park is a dedicated green space meant for the enjoyment [and] leisure...of citizens. As much as some gay men wish the park were an approved sex arena, it's not! The odorous, sticky little paths some gay men haunt in the depths of the park are not their private property. The entire park is public property. Men who wish to romp around waving their erections, looking to fuck and get fucked need to do that on their own private property. They need to get a room!

The community at large knows full well that public nudity and public sex are illegal and, in the eyes of most citizens, immoral.

Any sentient gay man knows that violent homophobes exist, that they are real people with a real hate-on, and that they patrol the same dark, self-licensed "play spaces" as the treacherous spot where Aaron Webster was assaulted.

You have to ask: What rational person would do what Aaron did? What rational, socialized man would deliberately enter a park after dark, strip down to his buck nakedness, and expose himself in pursuit of thrill and debauchery? Was Aaron surprised when they came to get him? Only a fool would take the kind of risk Aaron took [p. 4].

Like Travis, "I'm not a heartless bastard. I hate that this happened to Aaron Webster, too. Tragedy and treachery in the city. What I find...tragic and...treacherous is that the community has elevated Webster to sainthood.

"I'm a gay guy. But if I were ever to be confronted in the park by a naked, boner-raging man I would take real offence [p. 4]."

Amen! I was so relieved to read Travis's letter. It speaks for those of us in the gay community who would never do what Aaron Webster did, but what many men like him continue to do, even today.

So many thoughts run through my mind regarding this matter. Among them:

What kind of human being is compelled to go to a public park, putting his life at potential risk, for the sake of engaging in anonymous sex? Someone who doesn't feel he'd get sex any other way? Someone who has so little respect for himself that he doesn't believe another man could be attracted to, or interested in, him for anything other than sex? Is this yet another example of just how low self-esteem is in some segments of the gay male community?

Did those who marched in downtown Vancouver following Webster's murder do so to memorialize him, to pay homage to the tragic loss of a human life? Or did they do it to stand up for what they believed was their right: to cruise for sex in a public park? I'm concerned too many of the marchers saw themselves in Webster, imagining, because of their own park-going habits, the very same thing happening to them.

In my estimation, Aaron Webster is not a saint or a martyr. He's a gay man who made a bad mistake, paying for it with his life. By definition, a saint is "a person who is admired or venerated because of his virtue," and a martyr is "a person who is killed because of his religious or other beliefs." Webster was not virtuous in his actions, and he did not have any religious or other beliefs to exalt his death.

What has to happen for gay men who seek sex in public parks to stop that activity altogether, to see how much more they are worth than that, and to find other ways to fulfill the common need we all have for connection and validation? How do we ensure another example is not made of a gay man looking for sex in a public place?

Thought for the Day, #43

2011-12-08T10:01:00.001-08:00

Having healthy self-esteem will not make you selfish or demanding. It will not make you narcissistic, taking advantage of others for your own gain. Selfish behavior and attention seeking are in fact outward manifestations of inner insecurity and low self-esteem. It will help you experience life more authentically and use your natural intuition as a guide to healthier living. Good self-esteem involves developing a whole new perspective about yourself from one of feeling flawed, anxious, and undeserving to one of feeling okay with your human imperfections, feeling more peaceful and worthy of respect and affection.

(From Loving Ourselves: The Gay and Lesbian Guide to Self-Esteem, by Kimeron N. Hardin, Ph.D., p. 282.)

Pedophilia is Not Homosexuality

2011-12-06T14:37:00.001-08:00

Occasionally, something comes along that riles, disturbs, or just plain ticks me off, as it did when, a few weeks ago, I read an article in the November 17, 2011, issue of Xtra!. I acknowledge writing about this will draw more attention to it, but it should have attention drawn to it. Someone needs to stand up and say, "This is not right," and, today, that someone is me.

Here are the facts, as reported in the article:

Between August 2009 and April 2010, a 56-year-old Metro Vancouver man is said to have had consensual sex at least three times with a 15-year-old youth.
They met through Grindr, an Internet hook-up site.
In order to register at Grindr, the youth lied about his age and said he was 17, the minimum required.
The age of consent in Canada is 16.
This case came to light when the youth took the 56-year-old man to his parents's house, "...where they had sex before his mother came home and found [the latter] naked in her son's bathroom."
On that occasion, the youth admitted to his mother that he's gay.
The 56-year-old "...was charged with sexual interference, invitation to sexual touching and sexual assault."
It was decided "...jail time would serve no purpose"; however, the 56-year-old is currently serving 18 months's probation.
His name was added to the Canadian sexual offender registry for a period of twenty years.

We have to call this what it is: pedophilia, pure and simple. This is not two gay men having consensual sex. It's a 56-year-old predator having sex with a 15-year-old boy. End of story. There's no way to pretty this up or make it more palatable.

Look. I'm not against men who are gay, and I'm not against sex. I'm gay, and I have sex. My position would be exactly the same if:

a 56-year-old man had had sex with a 15-year-old girl; or
a 56-year-old woman had had sex with a 15-year-old boy, or
a 56-year-old woman had had sex with a 15-year-old girl.

To me, the sexual orientation of those involved isn't the issue at all.

The issue, as I see it, is the inappropriateness of two people having sex, where, according to the law, one is a minor. The law is the law, whether you agree with the age of consent or not. (And, for the record, I don't agree with Canada's age of consent. I think it should be older, a minimum of 18. How can the legal drinking age in Canada be 19, but the age of consent only 16? This is a disconnect if ever I've seen one, but maybe there's a good reason for it I'm not aware of.)

And, of course, I have a problem with the age difference. If the youth had been 18 or 20, I'd still have a problem with the age difference. What business does he have engaging in sex with someone who could be his father? And, conversely, what business does a 56-year-old have engaging in sex with someone who could be his son, or even his grandson? I don't get it.

Apparently, the 15-year-old youth is said to have consented to engaging in sex with the 56-year-old. What? How is that even relevant when we're talking about someone so young (contrary to what a doctor is quoted as saying in the article--that, in his estimation, some 12-year-olds are in a better position to consent to having sex than some 20 or 30-year-olds)?

We have a 15-year-old male in our extended family. Yes, he has a stocky build and facial hair. Yes, on the surface, he physically appears like a young man--mature and in control of himself. But just below the surface, he's still very much a boy, a kid, as I suspect most youth his age are.

How can someone, anyone, who's just 15 be emotionally ready to make the decision to have consensual sex with a man who is forty-one years his senior? Does he have any idea how personal and intimate and special sex is--with the right person? Does he have any idea what he's giving away to someone, who doesn't mean anything to him?

When Chris and I talked about this case recently, he asked, "To what extent is the youth responsible for leading on the 56-year-old?" Good point. The youth did lie, since he hooked up under false pretences, claiming to be 17. I don't necessarily think because he's a minor, he's blameless. He has to take some responsibility. But, in the end, he's only a kid. And, thankfully, most of us as kids are given leeway for some pretty stupid decisions we make because of our stupidity and immaturity.

To me, the one who should have the brains to know better is the 56-year-old, the clear adult in this case. Don't you think he needed to be more clued in to all the signs the 15-year-old wasn't the age he claimed to be? That if he had the slightest doubt about the age of the youth, he should have asked to see his ID? But, even before that, he shouldn't have tried to hook up with someone only seventeen years of age in the first place. Where was his head?

Oh, I have other issues with this, too.

Among them is the fact that, when news of this case hit the media, I'm certain those who already hold gay men in contempt decided we're all the same--that every one of us routinely enjoys having sex with underaged youth. Never mind that countless gay men wouldn't consider having sex with kids, let alone anyone they have no business having sex with.

I also have an issue with some of the readers who wrote in to Xtra! to support...the 56-year old, no less. Yes, one wrote, his name on the offender registry "cheapened" it. And another took the responsibility off the 56-year-old and wrote the youth knew how old the man he was intending to have sex with was and went ahead and had it anyway. Further, he wrote, some male youths have a thing for daddy figures, and "since when should other people decide what turns ANOTHER person on?"

And where were the 15-year-old's parents in all this? Okay, I'm not a parent, so maybe it's not my place to criticize their parenting skills. But, really, they had no clue what their 15-year-old son was doing--trying to pick up an older man using an application on his smartphone (which, according to the article, he'd succeeded in doing before)?

I'm all for respecting the privacy of children, but that doesn't mean absolving yourself from the responsibilities of a parent and being aware of what they're up to. He's just 15, for crying out loud. He's still lives under your roof. He still needs parental leadership and guidance. Wake up!

I hate to admit it, but this is not an isolated incident. Older gay men, who should know better, have sex with boys--or, at the very least, young men, who are much too young for them and with whom they have no business having sex--all the time. The only difference between them and our 56-year-old in this story is they haven't been caught yet.

The idea of me, in four years, when I'm fifty-six, having sex with a young kid the age of Chris's nephew now, stuns and outrages me. If we think this is okay, we need to give our heads a shake. I can't even fathom the absurdity of it. How is it possible anyone could?

(To read the complete story in Xtra!, please click here.)

How Do You Do That?

2011-12-03T08:48:00.001-08:00

The tears surprised me. They shouldn't have. I'm naturally emotional, over-sensitive. That's what made my boyhood so difficult. I felt everything acutely. The cruel words at school, my father's emotional abandonment, my mother's resentment. I held it all in back then, wondering what was going on, thinking every family was the same. Now, it surfaces easily. Must be my age.

I'm at the point in the book about Steve Jobs where he learns he has a sister, born of the same two parents he grew up not knowing. Her name is Mona Simpson. She's a published writer, like I hope to be someday. I wanted to learn more about her, so, on my MacBook, I googled her name.

I learned she wrote a eulogy for her brother, who died early this past October, which was published in The New York Times. I imagined her standing in front of the congregation, delivering the words I read. I imagined myself, delivering my mother's eulogy when she eventually passes, wondering if I'd be able to get through the experience, if everyone would forgive me for falling apart in front of them.

Everything is seen through the filter of age now. We're all so much older than I ever expected we'd be, even twenty years ago. Things happen. That's life. We don't know how long we have. We don't know when those we take for granted will be gone. Everything has a beginning and an ending. Nothing lasts forever. Nothing. Except, I have to believe, love. I count on love to last forever.

In this context, I read Simpson's words, the scattered memories she had of her brother, whom she didn't meet for the first time until she was an adult. Early on, she writes, "Even as a feminist, my whole life I'd been waiting for a man to love. For decades, I'd thought that man would be my father [who had abandoned her when she was five]. When I was 25, I met that man and he was my brother."

When I was thirty-two, I met that man, and he was my partner, Chris.

Jobs's illness takes up much of Simpson's eulogy. She writes, "...Steve became ill and we watched his life compress into a smaller circle. Once he'd loved walking through Paris. He'd discovered a small handmade soba shop in Kyoto. He downhill skied gracefully. He cross-country skied clumsily. No more."

Chris loved walking through Paris, too, when we were there three years ago. Even now, when I ask him what he enjoyed most about our trip, of all the things he could say, he says walking everywhere. Chris isn't a man of superlatives, like I am. But I know, from walking side-by-side with him the two weeks we were in France, and from talking to him about it since, he was deeply moved by that experience. I'd bet we walked some of the very same streets and bridges and alleyways Steve Jobs did. My heart knows why he loved it there so much.

Simpson describes her brother learning to walk again in a Memphis hospital after his liver transplant. He used a chair to support himself, pushing it slowly down the hallway, stopping to rest in it when he reached the nurses's station. Then, getting himself up, he turned "...around and walked back again." Laurene, Jobs's wife of twenty-plus years, '...got down on her knees and looked into his eyes. "You can do this, Steve," she said. His eyes widened. His lips pressed into each other.'

I don't know which of us will need a chair in a hospital to learn how to walk again, but I imagined it was Chris, and there I was, down on my knees and looking into his blue eyes, the very ones that warm me when I look into them now, that reach the essence of who I am like no others do, that tell me I'm home, exactly where I'm meant to be. I can't imagine looking into them at some time in the future, and seeing fear, and infirmity, and mortality. It would rip me apart. I know I couldn't do it.

That's when I couldn't see the computer monitor, when I had to wipe the tears away. I never want to see Chris like that. How could I look at him and see anything less than he is during our best years together? When a small pile of twigs he placed for pick-up on the grassy boulevard in front of our house, representing him and everything I love so much about him, brought me to tears, how could I ever face him struggling with a life or death illness, knowing he could be taken away from me at any moment? How could I be strong for him when I couldn't be strong for me? How does any human being get through something like that?

Hours before Jobs died, Laurene lying "...next to him on the bed sometimes jerked up when there was a longer pause between his breaths." I imagined that was me on a bed, my arms wrapped around Chris, inhaling his sweet, familiar scent, monitoring his breathing, knowing the end was near, the pillow beneath my head wet.

How do you let go of the one true love of your life, knowing he will never return, knowing you will never again prepare and eat a meal together, spend weekends working around the house, sit on the front porch on a balmy summer evening, hold each other in bed, go for a run Sunday mornings, watch TV in front of the fireplace on a winter's night, decorate the house at Christmastime, share a good laugh, walk the winding streets of Paris, dream about the future? How do you do that?

Where do you find what it takes to do that?

World AIDS Day, December 1

2011-12-01T09:37:00.001-08:00

Respect yourself.

Let love come before sex.

Play safely.

Where Openness and Acceptance Come From (Guest Post)

2011-11-30T12:07:00.001-08:00

On the final day of November, it gives me great pleasure to share with you a second guest post from S. B. Graves.

Some of you will recall S. B.'s first post, titled "Hate Is Not A Family Value," appeared on October 8th. If you haven't yet had the opportunity to read it, I encourage you to click here.

In subsequent email exchanges with S. B., I asked if she would consider answering the following question in her next guest post: As a straight, happily married, parent of three, how can she account for being so open and accepting of gay and lesbian people, when she herself is not gay, her children and husband aren't, and, to her knowledge, no one in her immediate family is? In other words, how can she account for taking up our cause as though it were her own? This intrigued me--that is, I was curious what her answer would be--and I hope you're intrigued by it, too.

I've written before that we, as gay and lesbian people, will not get what we want--in terms of legitimacy and respect in a predominantly straight world, as well as the human rights we're entitled to just by being on the planet--without the support of our straight allies. S. B. Graves is more than just an ally, she's an enthusiastic and tireless champion of us, and she's a remarkable example of what we would all hope the straight people in our lives would be.

I hope you enjoy reading S. B.'s guest post as much as I enjoy presenting it to you.

Thanks, S. B., for your contribution to my blog, and, on behalf of all gay and lesbian people, for your compassion, understanding, and willingness to fight the fight along side us. We sincerely appreciate it.

***

My thanks again, Rick, for giving me this opportunity to guest blog.

WhenI first came across Rick’s blog and commented on the post of the day, Rickresponded by saying he was happily surprised that a straight, married mother ofthree was so open-minded about gays and lesbians. This was a little puzzling, becauseI didn’t think my views were all that unique, and I felt I didn’t deserve anyshout-outs. To me, it felt like givingsomeone a pat on the back for not being a racist.

Thisled to a further discussion about why I’m open-minded on the subject when manyothers aren’t. Although I have to admit it makes me laugh, just a bit--“Mydear, tell us how you got to be so completely fabulous!”--I’ll try to explain(keeping in mind the many faults I have, which balance out my lack ofhomophobia).

Myhusband likes to say I think the place where I grew up (a very liberal city onthe East Coast of the US) does not represent the rest of the States, eventhough I frequently claim it does. I used to begin statements with, “Well, inthe US…,” to which he’d respond, “you mean, ‘Cambridge,’ not ‘the US,’ acomplete anomaly that doesn’t represent the rest of the States at all.” So, Iguess I grew up in an anomaly.

Cambridge,like Berkley on the opposite coast, is incredibly liberal and so blue (ascompared to the more conservative “red” states) that the shade is closer to indigo.I lived with my mom and brother (my parents divorced when I was five), about a milefrom Harvard Square, and had what would now be described as a free-rangechildhood: My friends and I walked and played everywhere. There were noorganized sports, and we were more likely to tag along with our parents toprotest marches (back in the day when Nixon’s Watergate scandal was underway)or investigate all the cool things one could do around New England.

WhenI was twelve, we moved back to the small university town where my dad lived, sowe could spend more time with him. He had a small office back then, with about15 employees, two of whom were gay. I don’t remember attaching any specialsignificance to this; it was just the way they were. I remember drivingsomewhere with my dad along with one of these men, and they were looking outthe car window at someone they knew (and obviously didn’t like for some reason). This guy said to my dad, “Well, I’mglad he’s on your team and not mine,” and they both laughed (yes, I got mysnarky gene from my father).

Homosexualitywas open and unremarkable, just business as usual. My parents were open aboutit and didn’t attach any judgment to it. It wasn’t secretive or shameful; it was just part of a person’spersonality, mentioned without fanfare. While I think it’s obvious some kidslearn bigotry or homophobia at home, I think it’s also true some kids see beinggay as “scary” or “different,” simply through the absence of gays or lesbiansin their lives. This is why, as a number of advocates have stressed (RickMercer most recently), being openly gay is important not only to gay kids growingup but also to straight kids, as things cease to be “scary” when they’recommonplace.

Interestingly,while Rick thinks I’m so open-minded, I felt I had to tell him a story fromwhen I was about 17, as it hasn’t been a seamless journey (all open-minded, allthe time), and I think this is a good illustration of the way people may reactto that which is unfamiliar.

Inmy last few months of high school, I did an internship with a non-profitanti-nuclear organization. I arrived for my initial interview and was told togo to a room down the hall. As I walked in, I interrupted two women who weremaking out. I must’ve looked a little shocked, because they were laughing a bitas they moved away from each other. I distinctly remember feeling uncomfortableand being angry with myself about it: What was my problem? Why did this bother me? Two women making out--getover it. I know I strongly feltthe problem was mine and not theirs--I had an unacceptable reaction, and theyhad done nothing wrong.

So,if I’m playing armchair psychologist, I’d say my upbringing was definitelynon-homophobic--which meant I didn’t see any difference between gays orstraights--but I also had a very human reaction feeling uncomfortable with theunfamiliar. I think it’s okay toacknowledge things foreign and unfamiliar often take us aback, and we have to pushourselves outside of our comfort zones in order to grow and learn.

Inthe office that day, I gave myself a little pep talk--“Okay, chill out, they’rejust lesbians, and they totallydidn’t notice your wide open eyes and little gasp. Show them you’re cool with it.” Yeah, right, they saw through me, no doubt--but theimportant thing was, I knew I was the one who had to adjust.

Ibelieve we need to teach our kids and students this: Occasionally, when they’reconfronted with things that are unfamiliar, they should acknowledge their reaction is the thing that needs tochange, not the person who is different or unfamiliar. I’d say that’s oneproblem with many conservative families, in that parents teach only the typicalis acceptable, and those who are different, or do not represent the norm,should be condemned and made to change.

Ialso wonder if my differing reactions--not taking notice of the gay guys in mydad’s office versus being a little freaked out by two women kissing--weresimply a function of my age: Introduce a kid to something at a young age andit’s easily accepted; wait a bit longer, when we’ve become less flexible, and there’smore resistance. If my story is anaverage example of this, imagine those people who have never spent time withsomeone they know is gay. Whatkind of prejudices would they have built up over decades?

Tome it’s pretty clear that if you want your kids to grow up to be open-mindedabout anything, you need to be careful not to lump others into “us and them”categories. And even if you don’tknow anyone who’s openly gay--I say “openly,” because everyone knows someonewho’s gay, but not everyone is comfortable about being out in some communities,schools, or offices--you’re careful about the things you say, and you immediatelyaddress homophobic remarks your kids or their friends might make.

Inthe bigger picture, the more gays and lesbians who are out, the better. In large cities as well as small towns,if everyone knew someone who was openly gay, homosexuality would cease to beremarkable, and we could comment on the things about them that really matter--liketheir shoes or hairstyle. Just kidding.

The Christmas Season Comes to "This Gay Relationship"

2011-11-25T16:41:00.001-08:00

Something a little lighter today.

This past Tuesday, I finished decorating the main level of our house for the upcoming Christmas holidays. For the most part, I'm happy with how everything turned out--unlike most years--and don't anticipate making any changes prior to the big day. That said, Chris knows me better; he thinks, as usual, I'll keep tinkering with everything right up to December 25th.

Those of you who read "How I Got Christmas Spirit (No More Bah-Humbug)" know I really enjoy the holidays now, and, as a result, I put a lot of thought and effort into decorating. Not only do I want our home to look good for Chris and me to enjoy, but also I want to add a little seasonal magic to the lives of those who visit us, either for dinner, an afternoon or evening dessert, or whatever the case may be.

We always begin with a color scheme. Sometimes, we look at the decorations we already have--as we did last year, when we had renovations done on the house prior to Christmas and couldn't afford much new--and match them in a complementary combination. We had lots of red, silver, and white ornaments, so we decided to go with that. I think our total decorating expenses were just over $100.

This year, we went all out. In early November, Chris and I paid attention to the flyers we received in local newspapers (showing the different color combinations of ornaments), visited several stores to see what was available, and chose gold and blue. It was not a difficult choice to make: we found the most beautiful and ornate set of glass ornaments in those colors and couldn't resist them.

Year round, I keep my thinking cap on in terms of coming up with new and creative ways to decorate the house for the holidays (for example, the idea of what to do with the insert above the fireplace, which you'll see below, came to me in August). When I was growing up, our family used the same decorations, in the same places, every year. To me, that's not decorating. Why bother?

Because Chris and I have had the same decorating routine for years, I have a pretty good sense of how much we'll need of any one item for the displays I have in mind, to ensure the color scheme is continuous throughout the main floor of the house. Generally, I use everything we buy; otherwise, I return it for a refund. Christmas is expensive enough without holding on to something you don't need.

Every display throughout the house must have examples of all the colors selected. So if, for example, red and gold are the colors, every arrangement, including the tree, a wreath, a large bowl, a clear glass vase, or what have you, must have something that is red and gold. That way, the theme remains consistent. It's a challenge to come up with ideas sometimes, but what else is the imagination for?

Below, I've included a few pictures showing how we decorated the house this year. I've also provided a brief explanation of what we did in each of five instances. If you have a question about anything you see, or would like clarification, please leave a comment or send me an email. I'd be happy to help in any way I can. (FYI, I really think I should have been a designer.)

The tree is decorated with forty-eight ornate gold and blue ornaments of different sizes and shapes (from Home Outfitters). Wrapped around the tree are nearly three rolls of glittery gold and see-thru ribbon (Michaels). The tree is six feet tall, we used two sets of one hundred clear light blubs, and it's topped by a gold metal star we bought at a small gift shop in Sidney, BC., when we lived in Victoria.

For the fireplace insert, I wrapped twelve boxes of different sizes and shapes (obtained free of charge from the dairy department at Save-On Foods, when we did our weekly shopping) in blue foil, gold foil, and flat gold (the same shades as the decorations, Michaels). I then set a faux evergreen spray atop most of the boxes (bought at Chintz & Co. years ago), and placed a glass ball (again from Home Outfitters), the opposite color of the paper behind it, in each spray. A small gold bead was added beside each larger glass ball. Finally, in front is a long faux evergreen garland (matches the sprays and the tree, Chintz & Co.), with gold and blue balls, as well as gold beads, laid inside. (FYI, to save on wrapping paper expenses, I covered only the areas of the boxes that were visible.)

In the dining room, I stood a small tree in a plastic (looks like stone) pot Chris and I use on the back deck during the summer to house annuals. The tree is a matching, smaller version of the bigger tree beside the fireplace (Chintz & Co.). The ornaments consist of eight, small, blue balls from a set we bought years ago (Chintz & Co.) that, coincidentally, matched the shade of blue this year (use everything you have in storage that works). Along with those are small gold glass beads (Home Outfitters), which came without loops to fasten them to the branches. To hang them, I pulled off the loops (in matching gold) from comparably sized red beads we already had and inserted them. A string of 50 clear lights was used, and, to set it all off, a thin, sparkly blue ribbon (same shade of blue) was looped loosely around the tree.

At the far end of the bookcase is a simple, tall, clear glass cylinder (Liberty) filled to the brim with more of the simple blue and gold glass balls used in the fireplace display. The ornaments from this set were used around the house to extend the holiday colors throughout.

Above the cupboards in the kitchen, I kept the usual items displayed throughout the year (a clear glass hurricane with a lid, a framed picture, an urn, a vase, a garden lantern, and a large old-fashioned clock, with a string of glass lights draped over them), and I added five more faux presents (like those above the fireplace), wrapped in the same blue and gold paper. In front of each present, I placed a faux evergreen spray (like those on the fireplace), with a glass ornament the opposite color of the paper, along with gold beads.

For the powder room, I bought a plain, eighteen-inch wreath (Michaels) and decorated it with the following: five small blue ornaments that look like jewels, in the same shade of blue (bought years ago when our color scheme was blue and brown) and the same small gold beads used throughout the house, loops inserted and fastened tightly to the branches with green twist ties (from the produce department at Save-On Foods); several pine cones I found in a park years ago, simply inserted into the greenery; two tiny square "presents" covered in gold foil (which adorned the Norfolk Island pine I wrote about in "How I Got Christmas Spirit"); and a gold-covered wire with small gold stars sticking out of it (don't remember where I got it), which I looped loosely in and out of the greenery several times around. The wreath is hung in front of the window with a short piece of the same ribbon in the large tree in the living room, fed around the metal frame of the wreath, flattened, and affixed to the top of the window frame with two thumb tacks no one can see.

The centrepiece on the dining table consists of a clear glass cake tray (Pier 1); three candles of varying heights (Ikea) set in the middle; an ornate gold garland with blue, green, gold, and clear beads and baubles (Pier 1), bent into a circle and rested on the perimeter of the cake tray; gold and blue balls, and gold beads, placed around the candles to fill out the display; and gold and blue balls set on the table against the tray stand. The twisted garland was fluffed up a bit and makes the centrepiece look like a swirl of colorful spray.

If you celebrate Christmas, may your home be a magical place this holiday season.

(Single click on the pictures to see them up close.)

How I Got Christmas Spirit (No More Bah-Humbug)

2011-11-23T12:49:00.001-08:00

Frequent readers should not be surprised to learn Christmas was a less than magical time around our house when I was growing up (I won't go into details I'm sure you're already familiar with through my writing). So when I moved out on my own at the late age of twenty-three (hey, I didn't make a lot of money as a bank teller in the mid-1980s), I would have been happy to skip the Christmas season altogether. I owned not one Christmas decoration, I never set up a tree, and, with the exception of an invitation to attend dinner at a family member's house, the occasion came and went without marking it in any particular way (although, at the time, I attended midnight mass at St. Pius X, which I looked forward to--this before having to reconcile the homosexuality/organized religion thing).

Over a decade later, after Chris and I had moved into our first place together, he knew I had no interest in Christmas. For the first few years, we didn't decorate at all. I didn't want one sparkly bauble to detract from the everyday decor of our apartment. Plus, I didn't understand the point of spending all that money and time buying decorations and setting them up, only to take them all down again in a few short weeks and find somewhere to store them in a small apartment. (Not to mention, I came from a family that hauled out the same tacky, garish decorations year after year that my sister and I were expected to hang about the house and on the tree. I couldn't wait until the large, ratty box filled with ugly ornaments, garlands, and tinsel was empty so we could stop the nonsense and move on with life.)

One Christmas season in the mid-1990s, Chris was out with his mother. He came home with a small Norfolk Island pine tree in a pot he'd bought at Save-On Foods, a local grocery store. Twist-tied to several branches were green pipe cleaners at the end of which were an assortment of tiny decorations--a bugle, a French horn, several faux presents wrapped in different colors of foil, a white styrofoam bell, a silver bell, and, at the very top, a star. Chris passed the tree to me, a little kid smile on his face. I jokingly gave him hell for bringing a bit of Christmas into our apartment, but how could I begrudge him something so cute and unobtrusive to mark the season? We placed the tree on our coffee table, removing the decorations in early January and adding it to our overall household inventory.

Town Square, Main Street, U.S.A., Disneyland, CA

The true magic of Christmas continued to elude me until early December 1997. That's when I went to Disneyland in California for the first time during the holiday season. I'd been there four times previously--once in April, twice in August, and once in June--and I'd fallen in love with it (actually, I'd fallen in love with the idea of it long before I ever went, as I'd watched scenes from the park on Walt Disney's Wonderful World of Color, broadcast on Sundays at 6:00 p.m. throughout most of my childhood). Initially, I thought if Disneyland was magical outside of Christmas, imagine what it might be like in December. But, then, I began to regret my decision to go at that time. What if everything I loved about the place was covered over with tasteless decorations? How could I have made such an error in judgement?

The only error I made was thinking the magic of Disneyland could be somehow diminished by the overlay of Christmas. What I found instead--helped considerably by the warm and hospitable weather of Southern California--was nothing short of extraordinary. Main Street, U.S.A. was by far my favorite place to linger, reminding me of a quaint and charming Victorian village on an old-fashioned Christmas card (minus the snow, of course), with elaborate swags and garlands hung on buildings and across the street itself; detailed seasonal displays in the shop windows; and a massive 50 foot-plus Christmas tree in Town Square, loaded with small ornaments at the top, graduating to enormous ones at the bottom. (Not to mention carollers, red and white poinsettias everywhere, and plenty of holiday treats to savor.)

From that point forward, I was overcome with the magic of Christmas, and, thankfully, it's never left me (of course, another nine trips to Disneyland during subsequent holiday seasons didn't hurt either, just to reinforce everything I'd experienced the first time). In fact, I was so filled with the enchantment of the park, I began to think of ways to extend it into my life back home. A decade or more later, Chris and I now go all out decorating for Christmas (keeping it tasteful, of course). Over the years, we've selected a different color scheme each season, spent a small fortune on an assortment of decorations and decorating materials, and turned our home, wherever we might be, into a warm and inviting place, capturing, in our own small way, the magic I experienced at "the merriest place on earth."

This year, we saw sets of decorations in several flyers that arrived in newspapers, and we went to a few stores to take a look at what was available. While our color scheme last Christmas was red, white, and silver, this season, we decided on blue and gold, based on a set of the most beautiful glass ornaments we'd ever seen (and the most ornate ones we've ever bought). Our color choices in mind, I set about deciding how best to decorate our home, trying to refrain from repeating what I've done in the past (at least not for the large displays), thereby ensuring Christmas remains fresh and exciting, and putting me to the test in terms of looking at our house, and our existing furniture, differently, and figuring out the best way to create a wonderful experience for those who come over to share the holiday season with us.

I'd be the first to admit Christmas is much more than decorating a house, gift giving, and overindulging. I never want to lose sight of the fact that it's all about the birth of Christ, celebrated on December 25th, and everything we do should in some way honor and respect that occasion. At the same time, what an opportunity, particularly in the northern hemisphere--where the days are shorter and darker, and where winter will soon be upon us--to generate human kindness and warmth by bringing together those who are most dear to us and creating wonderful memories that will last a lifetime. And what an opportunity to look at our homes and our lives in a new way, to see the magic that is always around us in the smallest of details, and to find that place within where the true spirit of Christmas resides year round.

Whatever Happened to Barry?

2011-11-17T13:31:00.001-08:00

Ever wonder what happened to someone you used to know, even an acquaintance? Lately, I've been wondering what happened to Barry.

Dale introduced me to Barry over two decades ago. For those of you who don't know, I met Dale through a personal ad he placed in a local newspaper. Neither of us was the other's man of his dreams, but we became great friends. I'm not sure how Dale knew Barry, but, when Dale and I were walking on the Stanley Park seawall, we'd often encounter Barry out for a stroll, usually by himself. If I remember correctly, Barry was interested in Dale.

But Dale couldn't have been less interested in Barry. I recall Dale seeing Barry approach us on the seawall and muttering unflattering descriptions of him that only I could hear, giving me the unmistakable impression Barry was not his favorite person. Still, we stopped to talk with him, as was the civil thing to do, with Dale, in his usual way, insulting Barry with offhand comments that could be taken as either funny or cruel. Dale's cruelty seemed to escape Barry; maybe he chose to ignore it.

I have to admit, Barry wasn't my type either. Lanky and unfashionably dressed, at best, he could be described as plain or average and, at worst, unattractive. His short dark hair was greasy and thinning, his teeth were discolored and crooked, and, in his late twenties or early thirties, he still had adolescent acne. Barry was a talking and walking gay stereotype: he lisped, everything he said sounded like he was shocked, and he minced.

In truth, Barry scared the hell out of me. I saw parts of me in him, and that turned me off. At the time, I remember thinking, if that's what gay looks like to the world, then please don't let me be gay. I believe Dale felt the same, although we never discussed it (this was before I'd figured out how much self-loathing is a part of most gay men). I accepted Dale's distaste for Barry and never questioned, or called him on, it. But why else would he have felt such animosity toward someone so harmless?

It's a myth that every gay man is as pretty as Brad Pitt. Sure, the gay media is filled with images of perfect gay men, their hair neatly styled, their complexions clear and natural, their bodies tanned and buff, their attire the latest from fashion runways. And, admittedly, many gay men are beautiful, making the most of what they have. But a good many aren't. In fact, I'd say the majority of gay men are plain and average, not unlike Barry, prompting me to ask the question, whatever happens to them?

Take Dale, for example, who, as I look back on it twenty years later, was no physical specimen himself. Meticulous in his personal hygiene and grooming, as well as playing up his good points and playing down his bad, Dale was an average looking gay man. Simple as that. Yet, he stood in judgment of Barry, in effect, making him no better than those who weren't gay and stood in judgment of Barry as well. If Barry couldn't count on the support of his gay brothers, who could he count on?

Am I suggesting that Dale should have given Barry more of a chance, certainly as a friend and maybe even as a partner? Perhaps. If Dale had something other than his fear of seeing himself in Barry to justify his dislike of him--for example, the sure knowledge they were not the least compatible--then fair enough. But, looking back on it, I don't know how Dale could have known he and Barry weren't suited for each other when he scarcely spoke to the guy, let alone got to know him better.

You know, I've learned one thing since Chris and I have been together, and it's this: We think we know who's right for us. But, really, we have no clue. As I've written before, Chris was not my physical idea. And, frankly, when it came to being attracted to someone, I, not unlike most gay men, placed the utmost importance on attractiveness, not character. I'm so grateful I didn't hold out for my physical ideal, because I would have missed out on the best nineteen years of my life.

Right now, there are thousands of gay men just like Barry--single, lonely, and looking for their princes. They're the ones who, if we haven't yet gotten over our own homophobia, we stare at in disbelief--either with pity or loathing. Countless gay men hang on to the hope they'll find the perfect partners, those who meet the vision of who they think they should be with, those who compensate for their shortcomings, and those who give them the love they don't have for themselves.

As I think about Barry all these years later, I hope he found someone far better than Dale. I hope he's sitting in front of a warm fireplace right now, wrapped in the arms of the man of his fondest dreams. I hope some handsome, muscular dude looked beyond his physical being and saw all the spirit and character he could ever ask for. In other words, I hope Barry is madly in love, and madly loved back, and I hope he's deliriously happy. He, and every single gay man like him, deserves it.

Chris's Little Pile of Twigs

2011-11-17T12:38:00.001-08:00

I wrote this post several weeks ago, and I continue to tinker with it. How three simple paragraphs confound me, when much longer and more complex posts don't, is beyond my understanding. Regardless, I hope you recognize the feeling I was trying to get across, and that you feel this way about someone you love.

Several weeks ago, I watched from the kitchen window as Chris pruned the branches of the small barberry bush next to the shed near the back fence. I saw him take a few moments to stand several feet from the plant, assess its size and shape, and consult the pages of an old copy of the Sunset Pruning Handbook his mother had given him. Grey autumn skies overhead, Chris studied the book in his left hand, then approached the plant, placing the clipper along branches where he thought it should go and squeezing the handle. Whenever I looked up from what I was doing, there was Chris in front of the barberry, taking great care to make the right decisions about where to prune. I smiled. His patience and diligence touched me. That's the Chris I know and love. That's the man I cherish.

Until recently, the small pile of cut twigs from the barberry sat on the grassy boulevard in front of our house. Chris cuts branches from any other plant into small pieces and reserves them for use in our compost bin over the fall and winter, but not the barberry, because of its thorns. Instead, he placed them on the boulevard in preparation for someone from the district to drive by, as they do twice a year, to process yard debris through a chipper. In comparison to the larger, more obvious, pile of debris at our neighbor's house, Chris's pile was scarcely visible, and became less so as the large, fiery red leaves from the maple trees above fell down, covering it over. I was concerned it would be buried by the time the chipper arrived and remain there until the following spring.

Every time I went out for a run over the subsequent weeks, I saw the little pile, and thoughts of Chris came readily to mind--calculating, that Sunday afternoon, the location of each clip, taking great care not to remove too much and adversely change the shape of the plant. What I saw in front of me, sitting on the boulevard, was, to most people, a small pile of yard debris, nothing to pay any mind to. But, as the days passed, it came to represent so much more. Just last weekend, only a few days before the chipper arrived, I became aware of tears in my eyes as I walked past it. Almost hidden then by brilliant red leaves, there it was, Chris's little pile of twigs--inexplicably symbolic of the character, integrity, and beauty of the most amazing human being I know.

An Open Heart

2011-11-14T13:24:00.001-08:00

This was a difficult piece to write. I did not enjoy visiting this dark place, one I had to admit I have. If you too are gay, perhaps you can relate to my words.

On one of the first episodes of the new daytime talk show "Anderson," the host, Anderson Cooper, interviewed his mother, Gloria Vanderbilt. During the course of the episode, viewers learned that, at just ten years old, Vanderbilt was the pawn in an ugly and highly-publicized custody battle between her mother and her aunt; her husband, Wyatt Cooper, died on the operating table during open heart surgery in 1978, at the age of just 50; and, ten years later, she watched as her son, Carter, jumped to his death from their fourteenth-floor New York City apartment, while she did everything to stop him.

I don't presume to suggest I've lived a life filled with the number and severity of tragedies and losses that Vanderbilt has in her eighty-seven years. And yet, you might want to ask my parents if they didn't feel a sense of loss when I came out to them; if they didn't consider it tragic when the illusion of who they hoped I was, was replaced by a stranger in some respects--someone they'd have to come to terms with and learn to love again, someone who would force them to relinquish the dream of their little boy growing up to have a normal courtship and marriage, resulting in grandchildren.

And, if you could, you might want to ask that twenty-year-old young man I once was, who, in ways he wouldn't fully understand until decades later, lost his childhood and teenage years to the fear of being something he knew he could not be; who, when he should have been playing with other children his own age, was rejected by them, making him feel isolated and alone; and whose grade school experience was a living hell, defined by unrelenting verbal and physical abuse, for no other reason than he was who and what he was, which happened to be different from everyone else.

None of us sail through life free from tragedy and loss, darkness and adversity, and all of us are affected by it in one way or another. The choice is always ours as to how we let it affect us. During the opening introduction of the episode on Vanderbilt, Cooper remarked that, despite what his mother had gone through, not only had she survived and thrived, but also she had avoided becoming hardened and tough. Instead of growing a thick skin, Vanderbilt has always remained open to people and open-hearted. While watching the program, I had to ask myself the question, could I say the same about me?

And the answer was, no, I can't. As much as it shames me to admit it, the biggest challenge I have is with people. Those who know me might be surprised to learn that. When I first meet people, I seem open and accepting enough of them. Because I know firsthand how it feels to be shunned and rejected, I go out of my way to be pleasant and personable. I'm so certain they're able to tell I'm gay that I try to disarm them, to win them over, prove with a smile, a firm handshake, or a few appropriate pleasantries that, despite what they might suspect about me, I'm still all right. I'm still worth knowing.

Foremost in my mind, of course, is always the question, what if they didn't just suspect but knew for sure I'm gay? How would they react? I look for the little signs in their demeanors and mannerisms--the hand they hesitate extending to me; the embarrassed, uncomfortable flush that crosses their faces; the stepping away from me as though I could infect them. In the event a mutual acquaintance introduces us, I wonder if he or she has said something in advance, as though my sexual orientation is the only noteworthy thing about me, as though they need to be prepared so as not to let on they know.

How much of this is paranoia on my part, and how much is out-and-out reality, I don't know for sure. But what I do know is it's my reality as a gay man, and it's colored every interaction I have with people. How can it not? It's all I've known since I was a child. My guard is always up. I'm always on the defensive. I'm always watchful and suspicious and untrusting. On the surface, I appear like everyone else--willing to embrace people, to give them a chance, even to invest in friendship. But in the back of my mind are the questions, why are you being nice to me? And, what do you want?

A process goes on inside my head. The questions run as though on a continuous reel: Would you have anything to do with me if you knew I'm gay? Are you civil to me only because you think that's what's socially expected of you? Are you going to try to get from me whatever you want, then reject me as was likely your first impulse? Do you just tolerate being around me for the good of someone else, to keep the peace, to give the illusion of being open-minded and accepting? Or do you wish you could be as far away from me as possible; wish I, and those like me, would just go away?

And even when I think I have a genuine friendship going--the other person showing me in one way or another that he or she accepts me and has no problem with my sexual orientation--I still wait for cracks to appear. I know they're there; it's a question of how close they are to the surface, the degree to which they're uncomfortable being around someone who's gay. I wonder, do they talk about me behind my back? If they do, surely, it can't be anything good. After all, I'm gay, and everyone knows gay is wrong and immoral, so why should I expect anything different. The sad fact is, I don't.

Every time we get together, they have another chance to screw up, to prove what they really think of me as a gay man. Many people say they don't have a problem with gay people, but I'm not so sure. As long as you don't get into anything too deep with them, they may not have a problem, but take the conversation to the level of those between heterosexuals and watch them squirm. Few, for example, want to know about the difficulties inherent in finding a suitable partner. Few want to hear about dating problems. And, believe me, no one wants to hear about intimate issues, physical or otherwise.

Yes, I'm an adult now, still falling back on old patterns of behavior I learned when I was in school--treating people I meet as though they're the children who bullied me, who destroyed my innocence, crushed my spirit, and forced me to be fearful of everything. But where did the children I went to school with get the idea that being gay is bad, evil, and unacceptable? From their parents, of course, from adults. Kids don't come to this realization on their own--adults lead them there, usually through teaching them religious dogma, hatred, and intolerance.

I wonder if some, many, or most other gay and lesbian people have the same challenges I do being around straight people. If they, too, would have to admit they don't have open hearts. That they've been hurt too often, at the hands of too many, for too long, to remain vulnerable and gracious and beneficent. If they've been burned so many times that they had no choice but to learn the hard lessons of what people can really be like. And, as a result, they've shut themselves off, building a wall around them and trying, usually in vain, to reduce the possibility of being hurt again.

Thought for the Day, #42

2011-11-10T12:26:00.001-08:00

How you feel about yourself cannot help but impact the quality of your relationships with others. Your sense of self-worth, how safe you feel with others, how much independence you need, whether or not you feel you deserve love, and how you expect to be treated by others are all determined to some extent by your core beliefs. Low self-esteem can make you feel powerless to avoid manipulation or outright abuse by others. You may feel as though you don't measure up in relationships or as if you don't deserve to be in a relationship with someone who is self-confident and healthy.

(From Loving Ourselves: The Gay and Lesbian Guide to Self-Esteem, Kimeron N. Hardin, Ph.D., p. 116)

How Would My Life Be Different Without Homophobia?

2011-11-10T12:22:00.001-08:00

Last week, Advocate.com asked the question, "How would your life be different if homophobia did not exist?"

I gave some thought to that and captured a number of points, in no particular order:

I wouldn't have been bullied in school.
I wouldn't have been embarrassed to attend classes like chorus, drama, and typing.
I assume I would have been better liked and had more friends.
I wouldn't have felt so different, alone, and isolated.
I wouldn't have been embarrassed to be so athletically inept in physical education class.
I wouldn't have had such a problem with my masculine identity.
I wouldn't be estranged from organized religion and the Catholic church.
My father might have loved me instead of keeping me at arm's length.
I wouldn't have held myself back from choosing a career typical of gay men.
I wouldn't have been consumed with self-loathing through a large part of my life.
I wouldn't be suspicious sometimes of why people are nice to me.
I probably would have found a partner earlier than the age of 32.
My writing wouldn't be primarily about issues facing gay people.
I wouldn't be fearful when I cross paths with a group of male youths.
I wouldn't be constantly looking over my shoulder.
I wouldn't have to be self-conscious about my effeminate mannerisms and characteristics.
I wouldn't have to downplay who I am whenever I'm in public.
I wouldn't have to be so conscious of wearing clothing more typical of men.
I wouldn't be embarrassed about my ability to interior decorate.
I wouldn't have to feel embarrassed to look at and admire attractive men.
I wouldn't have to be worried about being gay bashed even in the gay ghetto of Vancouver.
I wouldn't have had to worry about being held back in anything I wanted to do.
I would have been able to be me without giving myself permission to do that.
I wouldn't have been subjected to people calling me a faggot in public.
Organized religion wouldn't have told me I'm evil, immoral, and destined to hell.
I wouldn't have had to risk coming out and potentially lose those who are important to me.
I would not have been so aware of being different from other boys.
I would not feel invisible in the community where I live (which has few obvious gay people).
I would be perfectly happy with who I am and never wish that I was straight.
I wouldn't blame myself or being gay when things change or go wrong.

For better or worse, I am who I am today because I'm gay and because of homophobia. I will never know who I would have been otherwise. I guess I've always assumed life would be easier if I were straight, but do I know that for sure? I only assume that's the case because we live in a world that takes the automatic position everyone is heterosexual, and because being oneself as a heterosexual appears to be so much easier and accepted.

The other thought that comes readily to mind is, what would occupy much of my thinking today, and what would I write about, if I'd never been subjected to homophobia? There again, I have to assume I would have encountered other life challenges, in the way most heterosexual people do, and I'd be thinking, and perhaps writing, about them, in the same way many heterosexual writers take on issues close to them and create entire bodies of work around them.

But one thing is for sure: This blog would not exist if there were no homophobia. My time and effort would not go toward elevating the experience of being gay by sharing my life experience and knowledge, in the hope of helping others understand, accept, and love themselves. Would that be good or bad? Of course, in many ways, it would be good. But, in others, it would mean I wouldn't connect with so many amazing people from around the world through their thoughtful and heartfelt comments.

Share with me how you think your life would be different without homophobia.

My "It Gets Better" Video Now Live on You Tube

2011-11-09T15:21:00.000-08:00

In case you're interested, my "It Gets Better" video is now live on You Tube. You can access it by clicking here.

My thanks to all of you who provided such positive comments about my video. I sincerely appreciate your kindness and support.

Never Give Up Hope

2011-11-09T13:36:00.000-08:00

Last Friday, I received the following comment on a post titled The Gay Lifestyle, which I wrote in March of this year:

Rick,

What you stated is true if you are one of the minority of gay men who wanted a relationship and has found that. Otherwise, the choices are simply to either find some other purpose in life (in other words, be a busy bee) or to seek someone out, which means being subjected to what you described as the typical gay lifestyle (you've hit the nail on the head except that you neglected to mention the high degree of mental disorders and the callous nature of adult gay men toward other gay men).

I am your age. Although I was certainly an intelligent, masculine, reasonably attractive guy, 30-plus years of searching netted nothing. Love has to happen [for a relationship], and part of that is having access to a number of [potential] partners who would be relationship-oriented and to whom I would be attracted. I have found that I can be more alone when I am with someone than when I am actually alone, so no sense putting a round peg in a square hole if the relationship doesn't work.

In addition, I have been jolted severely probably 20 or more times. I watch women who have fatal attractions to men, and I honestly cannot find the commonality that is evident in such fatal attractions. At any rate, the resultant depression from all of this has led me to job loss and financial ruin, and certainly an inability to retire. I have been in psychiatric institutions 3 times with severe depression, suffered as a result of having been emotionally jolted.

Like you, I ignore my orientation at this point although I find myself no longer wanting to associate with straight people, including family, who typically have partners and children.

This is not a good life. The structure of the male gay community is merely focused on commerce, sex and vanity. It is too late for me, but I would hope that things could be better for future generations.

I know this reader speaks for many gay men in the same situation, so I decided to feature his comment, and my response, in a dedicated post. I hope something I've written will be helpful to him and to others.

Here is my response:

Wow! Your comment is powerful in its detail and honesty. I'm taken aback because, even though I've received many comments from readers over the years--some clearly reflecting the pain they're in--I haven't gotten one quite like yours: a middle-aged gay man who's waited most of his adult life to be in a relationship, did what he could over no fewer than three decades to find one, and whose health and wellbeing suffered because of his lack of success. You are not alone; there are many just like you.

I feel your pain, I genuinely do. Even though I'm in a long-term relationship, if you’ve read some of the posts I've written here, you'll know Chris and I didn't meet until I was 32. That may sound young to you now, but I really believed at the time that was it for me--if I hadn't found someone by 30, ancient in gay years, it wouldn't happen--in the same way you believe it's now too late for you. And, believe it or not, I'd made my peace with being single and over 30. No sense being miserable; what would I gain by that?

So let me say I have no intention of writing that the man of your dreams is right around the corner (although he may well be), and, when you meet him, all the problems in your life will go away. I'm familiar with other gay men who've had the same challenges you have in finding the right person, falling in love, and building a life together. And, as much as I don't want to admit it's possible, I've had to accept not everyone finds a relationship--regardless of whether they're gay or straight. Loneliness is an epidemic.

I want you to know if I could change that reality--if I could play a hand in ensuring every single person who wants to be in a relationship is in one, fulfilling all the many reasons why they value a relationship in the first place--I would. Because I know as human beings, we're meant to love and to be loved. That's why we're here. And if we don't encounter the opportunity to share our love with, and to receive love from, a significant other, the toll can be enormous on us, physically and emotionally.

I want to respond to some of the comments you made about the gay male community in general. While it may be your experience that only a minority of gay men want relationships, I don't agree with that assessment at all. When I was in my late twenties (shortly after I came out), I knew a lot of gay men, who like me, were desperate to be in relationships. And desperate is the word. We lived for the day when it happened, and we did everything we could--within reason, of course--to make it happen.

But, for a number of reasons, I don't think finding relationships is easy for many gay men. One of biggest reasons is the contradiction between the need to love and to be loved--in our case, involving someone of the same gender--and the message we've received countless times, and internalized, that homosexuality is evil and immoral. The need to love and to be loved doesn't go away just because we're gay and supposedly evil and immoral, so many gay men redirect that need into the only option they see open to them--sex.

Another reason why I think finding relationships is difficult for many gay men is because we think we need to be blown away when we meet someone, before we consider being friends let alone partners. When I was single, I knew just the man I wanted to meet, and he was the only one I saw myself with. Then Chris came along. He was nothing like my ideal. Did I settle? Not a chance. Someone knew better than me who I needed to be with, and Chris turned out to be so much more than I ever could have imagined.

Is being gay a bitch sometimes? Sure it is. But I want you to remember we don't have to accept those parts of it that are not consistent with who we are as human beings and individuals. I've written a number of posts here to say we must be gay on our own terms. Don't buy into the commerce, sex, and vanity that you believe (as I do) are the unfortunate focus of the gay male community in general. Don't allow yourself to be defined or victimized by it. Be the gay man you were meant to be and define yourself in that way.

Even though you write that you think it's too late for you to have the relationship you've always wanted, I don't think you believe it for a minute; if you did, you wouldn't have taken the time to write or to send your comment. As long as you're still alive, my maternal grandmother would scold you, and open to the possibility, it's never too late. In her mid-eighties, she met a man her age, and they were together and happy for a number of years. You never know when what you want most will finally be yours.

In the meantime, remember you have no control over other people and what they do (including other gay men), but you have control over yourself. As a single man, think of this time as an opportunity to work on you, to be the best person you can be--for yourself and for that future significant other. And while you await the happy occasion of your paths crossing--if they do--you must find within yourself what you most want from another man. In other words, you must be your own best friend and you must love yourself.

While you work on that, take a look at your daily or weekly routine and make some small change to it. What you're doing right now hasn't yielded the results you're looking for in terms of meeting someone. To me, that means, if this is important enough to you, you must do something different. Change your attitude. Change how you look at yourself. Get involved. Become creative. Take a risk. Try something you've never done before. Don't give up. You're still far too young to throw in the towel.

And, finally, love comes in different, but no less validating, ways. With or without a life partner, you must always be open to those who love you, be they family or friends. Don't give up on straight, married people with children just because they're not gay, single, and childless. Give generously the love you have to share, and it will be returned to you tenfold. All of us have an infinite capacity to love--ourselves, family and friends, and when the time's right, a partner--and we are called upon to give it freely.

Believe.

Never give up.

The perfect man for you may enter your life today. Are you ready?

My "It Gets Better" Video

2011-11-03T15:33:00.000-07:00

After several readers encouraged me to make an "It Gets Better" video, I "fired up the Mac" (as Jeanette puts it) and came up with this.

Can I just say putting together one of these damn things by yourself--especially if it's a new experience and not just a thirty second bit--is bloody difficult. As much as I would have liked to make it continuous, that was nearly impossible, given the number of times I lost my train of thought and ended up uttering gibberish.

So, instead, I put it together piecemeal, recording clips over three days. Some segments took twenty or more takes until I got over my nerves, stopped stuttering, and figured out what to say. But I think, for my first effort, it turned out all right. I don't mind the roughness of it, and, most importantly, I managed to get across the message I wanted to.

I haven't uploaded it to YouTube yet.

Pictures of "This Gay Relationship" in Whistler

2011-11-02T09:12:00.000-07:00

In my ongoing effort to present positive images of gay men in relationships--and assuming Chris and I are looked at in that way--I want to share with you several pictures of us from our recent trip to Whistler. One of these pictures (with whatever cropping is necessary) will likely be on the customized Christmas card we send to family and friends this year, but we haven't decided which one. Do you have a preference?

One

Two

Three

Thought for the Day, #41

2011-11-01T12:45:00.000-07:00

The following is a quote from a Letter to the Editor that appeared in the Saturday, October 29, 2011 edition of The Globe and Mail, in response to Rick Mercer's Rant and a Globe Editorial titled "No, Rick Mercer, not all gay public figures need to step forward":

...We live in a country where there is still fear of marginalization based on one's sexuality should they be "out." There are many levels to changing narrow-minded attitudes, but one of the most important is for gay people in positions of authority and public influence to stand up and proudly declare their sexuality so that one day, others won't have to. Normalizing homosexuality in any society starts by proving that is it, indeed, normal [p. F8].

(Letter written by Katherine Skene from Toronto)

And here's an online response to the Globe Editorial:

Are not black, Asian and native leaders asked to stand up and become role models for their communities? Are women not asked to become role models for young girls? What of victims of domestic abuse or violence? What of survivors of drug abuse and alcohol addiction? What Rick Mercer asks for is no different from what others have asked for in the past. Young people need role models of all types. The suggestion that asking gay men and women to come forward to act as role models would be a burden to those that do so is a step backwards in social acceptance; it is a poorly disguised suggestion that gay Canadians remain discreetly in the closet.

Rick Mercer did not ask gays and lesbians to come out of the closet to mentor young gay or lesbian teens; he suggested that only those who are living openly should do so.

(From AntiSpin, October 27, 2011, 11:47 p.m.)

To view Rick Mercer's Rant, please click here.
To read the Globe Editorial referred to above, please click here.

There's Still So Much Work to be Done

2011-11-01T12:41:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, it all feels like too much. This gay thing.

Decades ago, if I had an obsession--which I did--it was with not being gay. I did everything I could to avoid it, to put it out of my mind, to ensure it didn't apply to me. I wasn't gay. I wasn't going to think about it in terms of me because everybody else thought I was gay, and I knew better. I'd show them. They thought they had me figured out, but they were dead wrong.

Was I in denial? What do you think? But I dealt with it the best way I could, including, in my early twenties, thinking of myself as asexual. I decided I wouldn't be sexual at all. I thought of myself as evolved: everyone else needed someone, and everyone else needed to be sexual, but I didn't. I was one step ahead of the masses. Someday, if they were lucky, they'd catch up to me.

Fast forward to today, and all I do is think about being gay now. I'm in my "all gay, all the time" phase because of what I do. To write about all matters gay, I have to have it on my mind continuously--or, if not continuously, be ready, whenever necessary, to turn in that direction. When I'm not writing about being gay, I'm reading about it, in books and newspapers, on blogs and websites.

Not only am I a gay man, but my job is to be gay, fully and completely, and to keep informed about every aspect related to being gay in 2011, because my work is to write blog posts about being gay, and to help my readers deal with being gay themselves. Don't get me wrong. Ninety-nine percent of the time I love what I do, but, sometimes, for better or worse, being gay feels like it's taken over my life.

Sometimes, I think about letting it go--not writing this blog anymore because of all the focus on being gay; surely there are other things I could write about. Sometimes, I just want to be me and get on with living my life. If doing that means getting involved in some aspect of being gay, so be it. But, if I can go for long periods where I have no awareness of being gay, that would be good, too.

I mean, think about it. I'm 52, out, partnered, and life is good. I've never been happier or more settled with myself. In the normal course of events, being gay isn't an issue for me. So why, in my writing, do I keep bringing it up, as though it is? Is being gay an issue, or does it necessarily become one because it's the focus in my reading, writing, and consciousness? If I stop writing about it, will it go away?

And this is the answer I consistently come up with. Just because I stop writing about it doesn't mean it ceases to be an issue; it just means I've chosen to stop being part of the ongoing conversation. Be assured, for someone, somewhere in this world, being gay is an issue. In fact, whether we're talking about Canada, a more liberal country, or Uganda, one of the most oppressed, being gay is an issue for someone.

There's still so much work to be done, and we need everyone on our team, gay and straight, to keep digging deeper, to keep agitating, and to keep the conversation going. That's how, when I get down about writing this blog and wonder if I'm making a difference, I renew my focus and know in my mind and my heart that what I do here helps, if not today, then maybe tomorrow. As I see it, I have a responsibility to play my part in any way I can.

Yes, there's still so much work to be done...

When teens continue to kill themselves because they're gay and bullied, there's work to be done.
When people still can't get married because they're gay, there's work to be done.
When gay people continue to hide in closets and live in fear and shame, there's work to be done.
When politicians continue to spew their ignorance and hate, there's work to be done.
When religious zealots continue to say the fate of all gay people is hell, there's work to be done.
When countries around the world continue to deprive gay people of their human rights, there's work to be done.
When some countries imprison people because they're gay, and even put them to death, there's work to be done.
When even one gay person is told the love he has for someone of the same gender is wrong, there's work to be done.
When parents prevent gay and lesbian alliances from being implemented at their local schools, there's work to be done.
When gay and lesbian people still have to face the shame and humiliation of coming out, instead of just being themselves, there's work to be done.

With all this work, and so much more, still left to be done, how can I not continue to write this blog, to play my part, to try to make a difference in whatever small way I can? How can you, within your own sphere of influence, either as a gay or lesbian person, or as a gay and lesbian ally, not play your part?

We are all called to be a part of something bigger than ourselves. Our challenge is to discover what that is, and to take it on with gusto and conviction. What are you called to do?

Coming Out Month: Wrap-Up

2011-10-31T11:59:00.000-07:00

This officially concludes Coming Out Month at "This Gay Relationship." What is a single day every October 11 (called National Coming Out Day) became an entire month here, because I suspected there was plenty to write about on the subject. And so there was.

When I started Coming Out Month, my goal was to publish, on average, one post related to some aspect of coming out every weekday. This year, October had twenty-one weekdays, and I managed to publish twenty-one posts on a myriad of subjects related to coming out.

By the middle of the month, I worried, given the few comments I'd received, that I'd made a mistake putting so much emphasis on coming out. Then I recalled what one of my readers wrote in the past: that she wouldn't leave a comment unless she had something to contribute. So I took that into consideration and moved forward.

In retrospect, I believe the idea to write primarily on the subject of coming out for a month was a good one. Many of my readers are young and either in or partially out of the closet, and, having come out over twenty-five years ago, I knew I could write knowledgeably on the subject and hopefully help.

Just because Coming Out Month is over, does that mean I won't write about coming out again? Not at all. For every gay and lesbian person, coming out, in many ways, marks the beginning of their lives. It's as critical an event as any I can think of. If I have something relevant to say, I'll say it.

The tone of the pieces I wrote were uneven; that was done on purpose. Sometimes, as I sat down to write, my thought was, "Why isn't everyone out yet?" Other times, I recalled just how difficult it was for me to come out, and my understanding and patience returned. (But I still wish everyone was out.)

Some posts captured thoughts and ideas. Others were published with the intention of prying the closet door open a crack, so gay people could glimpse what lay beyond. Still others provided specific resources and tools that I hoped would make the coming out process easier, to the extent that's possible.

I'm proud of what I achieved here over the past month. In addition to accomplishing a personal writing goal, I provided a concentrated number of posts that, if reviewed in detail, give a good overview of what the coming out process is about, and what the outcome is likely to be.

Now, a request. If you read some or all of the Coming Out Month posts, tell me what you thought of them. If you're gay and still in the closet, tell me if you think what I presented will help you at some time in the future. Conversely, tell me what I could have done differently so I can learn, too.

I leave you with the following advice from Steven Petrow in Steven Petrow's Complete Gay & Lesbian Manners for Every Occasion:

Parents, Families and Friends of Lesbians and Gays, also known as PFLAG, has been inviting moms and dads of gay kids to cry on its shoulders, find support, and become educated about their LGBT offspring for decades. The organization now has more than 200,000 members in all 50 states [in the U.S.] and Canada. "Support" is PFLAG's watchword. Call up one of its more than 500 affiliates scattered around the United States, Canada, and many other countries, or visit www.pflag.org if you're planning to come out, if your child has just come out, or if you think your child is LGBT. PFLAG families have walked the walk before and can talk you through the coming-out process or put you in touch with whatever facts or resources you need [p. 11].

In other words, you are not alone. There is help out there.

And please don't forget, I'm available to help you in any way I can, too. If you think of something I haven't covered in this series that you'd like my thoughts on, or if you have a question, please email me by clicking on Send Mail on the top righthand side of my blog. I will support you in any way I can.

And if you just need someone to "talk" to or confide in, please email me. I may not be able to solve all your problems from the table where I write this blog, but I'm a good listener, and I will respond to you in some way. Sometimes, all we need is the chance to tell someone how we really feel.

Letter to the Editor (Denley/Bullying)

2011-10-28T12:18:00.000-07:00

The following is a letter I submitted to The Vancouver Sun today, in response to an article that appeared yesterday titled "Good intentions can't protect our teens from bullies," written by Randall Denley. You don't need to read Denley's opinion piece to understand what I wrote, but, just in case you want to see it, please click here.

I am furious. Randall Denley’s position that bullying in schools will never go away, and the only option is to console the family after a teen suicide happens, then move on with life, outrages me. All of you reading this should be outraged, too.

Denley writes as if recent Ottawa suicide victim Jamie Hubley provoked the bullying that senselessly ended his young life by being openly gay. Mr Denley, I wasn’t openly gay in the 1970s when I was in school, but do you think that stopped any of my bullies from physically, verbally, and emotionally assaulting me from elementary school to the very day of my high school graduation ceremony? How dare you blame Jamie for what happened to him. You have a lot of gall.

Maybe you, Mr. Denley, have no clue when it comes to what we can do to counter bullying, but I can think of a few things.

At Jamie’s school, the principal should haul every student into the auditorium, along with local law enforcement officers, and tell them what happened to their classmate is unacceptable, and, effective immediately, the school’s adopted a zero tolerance policy toward bullying, with swift and appropriate punishment for offenders, including expulsion. Jamie’s bullies should be publicly identified, pictures of them enlarged and posted on a bulletin board in the hallway, with the word BULLY clearly written below them. And they should be held accountable for contributing to Jamie’s death with the school making their parents aware of the role their children played in it, and stating clear expectations for their conduct going forward, as well as the repercussions if those expectations are not met.

In every high school across the country, zero tolerance policies should be instituted with the consequences of violations clearly stated, including public identification and shaming. All principals and teachers should immediately address bullying issues reported to them or witnessed firsthand, including contacting parents, and bringing the bullies, the bullied, and their parents together for a meeting to get to the bottom of the issue and put an end to it once and for all. Gay/straight alliances should be implemented (enough of this crap about parents don’t want their precious children to know gay people exist). And repeat offenders should be required to complete labour in and around the school to a specified standard, and attend sensitivity training classes as well.

Idealistic? You bet. Unrealistic? You decide. But here’s what I know for sure. The issue of bullying in our schools, where students of every single minority, including gays and lesbians, should feel safe in order to get the best education possible, must be hammered and hammered hard. If an example must be made of one or two particularly offensive bullies, so be it. Every student must know what will happen if he or she is in any way involved in bullying other students for whatever reason.

One death due to bullying is one too many. To say that nothing can be done about it, so we might as well give up and accept it, is, in my opinion, the same as saying nothing can be done about cancer, so why bother fund raising, conducting research, and working to find a cure. Not good enough, Mr. Denley, not good enough at all. You should be ashamed of your position.

(Note: As of November 9, my letter had not been selected for publication in The Vancouver Sun.)

I LOVE Rick Mercer

2011-10-28T08:23:00.001-07:00

My thanks to Rural Gay for making me aware of this.

Coming Out Month: How Do You Know You're Ready to Come Out?

2011-10-26T11:32:00.000-07:00

(This post is dedicated to Aries Boy in Indonesia, who, in a comment on a recent post, suggested the topic, and asked me what I did to prepare myself to come out, and what advice I have.)

The short answer to the question "How do you know you're ready to come out?" is, chances are, you don't.

I was not ready. Not in terms of preparing anything. While I might have gone over in my mind, time and again, the discussion I'd have with my mother, everything I'd imagined saying was hypothetical. Who knew what words would leave my mouth when I actually found myself in the situation? I hadn't anticipated any questions she might ask, so I had no answers prepared or rehearsed. And I had no idea how she'd react, although I'd hoped it would be better than it was (goodness knows, without consciously intending to, I'd given my parents enough hints over the years that I was gay). So, despite all that, how did I end up coming out on the evening of January 1, 1986?

Emotionally, I'd reached a breaking point. I needed to be set free. I did not come out until I was twenty-six, which I consider late. Up to that point, I had the sense life was passing me by. I had a job, supported myself, and lived on my own, but everything felt like I was going through the motions. I had no personal life, and that frustrated the hell out of me. More than anything, I wanted to be in a relationship. I hated being alone, and I needed someone to love me (I never felt my family loved me, even though I'm sure they did). Coming out for me, then, was more a case of running toward the wall and smacking into it, rather than stepping carefully forward and being prepared for what happened.

However I did it, it needed to be done. As I approached my mid-twenties, I began to get a greater sense of myself than I'd had before (although it would still be years before I realized my true self-worth). While I'd been filled with self-loathing for many of my school years and long after graduation, I began to get an inkling there was nothing wrong with me just because I was gay. This was a critical step for me. Had I not begun to acknowledge, even at an elementary level, that I was just as good as everyone else (that is, those who weren't gay), I don't know if I would have felt the need to come out as strongly as I did, or if I would have found the courage to do it.

As I wrote before in "My Own Coming Out Story," seminal in my experience was attending a New Year's Eve dance on December 31, 1985, attended by gay and lesbian people in the community where I lived. Through meeting many likeable and respectable people there, similar to me, I realized for the first time I no longer deserved the bad rap gay people had gotten over the decades. Some may have maintained I was worthless because of my sexual orientation--and, to some extent, I still did, too--but a window had been opened. And when I looked out that window, I saw that I no longer deserved to feel badly about myself, to hide in a closet, or to sacrifice my life to what everyone else thought of me.

As haphazard as the occasion of my coming out was, I believe I was better off for not over-thinking it. On the day it actually happened, no, I hadn't forgotten all the fear I'd felt over the years about getting it done. But, in addition to believing there was nothing wrong with me--that I was essentially good and decent--I found I had no choice: I needed to soar. I did not obsess over the words I'd use, or how my mother would react. The last thing I wanted was to hurt her, which is exactly what I did, but, in the end, she recovered. Thus, I think the moral of this story is, don't over-think it, don't obsess about it, don't worry about what your family's reaction will be, just do what needs to be done.

I'm aware many people reading this come from different countries around the world, with different cultures, different mores, and different attitudes toward homosexuality. So please take that into consideration when you read the following: Coming out is about you. It's about your life. It's about your happiness. It's about your completeness as a human being. What it's not about is your parents. That's right, it's not about your parents. Somehow, the focus is always on the gay person's parents, how they'll be affected by their child's admission. But, from my perspective, twenty-five years in, the focus must be on the gay person, and the fate he'll suffer if he never comes out.

You can't live your life for your parents (although many children do). As much as you may love your parents, respect them, want to make them happy, meet their expectations, and make them proud, the reality is, at some point, the effect they have on you and your life must be curtailed. That is part of the natural process of growing up: parents do their bit to raise you the best way they know how, and then you let go of them and their influence, and you make your own way in life. That's called becoming an adult and taking responsibility for yourself. It's about coming into your own. It's about being true to yourself and living authentically. You are not your parents. You are you. And you are gay.

It's great to have the love and support of family, and I'm not suggesting you shouldn't want it or won't get it when you come out. In fact, in all likelihood, you will; parents are incredibly resilient, and, in the end, the tremendous love they have for their child usually overcomes any challenge you experience together, including your sexual orientation. But if the love and support you need from your them means you must be anything less than you were meant to be (that is, deny your sexual orientation, remain closeted, live a lie, be alone for the rest of your life), because you couldn't possibility hurt of upset them by admitting you're gay, then the price is too high. The price is too high.

If now is clearly not the right time to come out--because, for example, you're dependent on your parents, financially or otherwise, and you can't be sure they'll embrace you or throw you out onto the street--then you must keep your homosexuality to yourself until some future time. But, take it from someone who is gay--who lived half his life in the closet and knows how stultifying that is, and the other half out, and has never been happier or more fulfilled--you must come out at some point. You have one life to live, and, as the years go by, it passes faster than ever. There is no time to waste in the closet. You are called upon to live your life with gusto--fully, authentically, and passionately.

Coming Out Month: Do I or Don't I?

2011-10-21T13:45:00.000-07:00

So if you're still trying to decide whether now is the right time to come out, here's something you might want to try.

Whenever I have a tough, life-changing decision to make, I put together a list of pros and a list of cons. That is, I write down on a sheet of paper (a critical step) all the reasons why I should do something and all the reasons why I shouldn't.

I populate the pros and cons lists by brainstorming. I don't judge what I write down, or make decisions about whether each item should be included. Rather, I record whatever comes to mind, good or bad, and reserve judgment until after I've finished.

The goal is to make your list of pros (reasons why you should do something) and cons (reasons why you shouldn't) as robust as possible. So, to force yourself to think fast and generate lots of ideas, time yourself. Take no more than ten, maximum fifteen, minutes to pour out everything that comes to mind, and capture it on paper. Get it all down until you can't think of anything else, or until time runs out, whichever happens first. (Timing yourself will focus your efforts, as well as prevent you from second guessing or judging what you come up with.)

Here's an example of how it works. In mid-2000, I had the opportunity to apply for a position in Victoria, British Columbia's capital city sixty-five kilometres away, on an island, from where I lived. I was happy at my job in Vancouver (if a little bored and unchallenged), but my boss urged me to put my name forward. The problem was, the new job would be significantly different from the one I had, with a lot more responsibility; we'd have to move to Vancouver Island, which Chris was adamant about not doing; and he'd have to either transfer with his job, or find another one, because we needed both incomes.

We talked about the job posting many times, and I vacillated between applying and not applying. The closing date was fast approaching, and I needed to make a decision. Finally, I wrote down all the reasons why the job would be a good move for me and all the reasons why it wouldn't. (For those who don't know, I applied for and got it, Chris and I moved to Victoria in July 2000, and Chris got a transfer to the same ministry where he worked. The move was one of the best decisions we ever made, and I remained in my position for seven years. I don't believe I would have applied for the job if I hadn't put together pros and cons lists (and if Chris hadn't finally said he'd move with me.))

So now it's your turn. Make a list of pros and cons about whether this is the right time for you to come out. On a sheet of paper, draw a line down the middle, top to bottom. At the top of the left side, write "Pros," and at the top of the right side, write "Cons," just like in the picture of the chalkboard below.

Give yourself only ten minutes to record everything you can think of, every reason to come out and not to come out. Don't judge what you write. Let the ideas flow freely. Decide which ones belong in the pros column and which in the cons. No point is too small or silly or unimportant. If you thought of it, chances are it's something you should consider in your decision.

Go ahead. Put your lists together. Come back to read the rest of this post when you're done. I'll wait for you.

All right. Have you completed your lists? Have you recorded all the reasons why you think you should come out now, and all the reasons why you think you shouldn't? Good job. I'm proud of you. You should be proud of yourself. Now what?

Review your lists in detail. If you want, you can give everything equal value and decide which side overall, pros or cons, is weighted more heavily--that is, which side far and away gives you a clear indication of the best course of action to take (come out now or wait until another time).

On the other hand, while you review your lists, you could eliminate anything that isn't significant enough to concern yourself with (put a line through it). Now, take a look at what's left. Everything remaining on your lists should be the big hitter items--the most important reasons why you should or should not come out at this time.

As you review each item--reflecting on them, thinking them through, understanding what they would entail, what the results would or could be--which side, pros or cons, has more weight, gives a clearer indication of the decision you should make?

For many of you, taking your family's feelings into consideration--how you think they'll respond to your news--will weigh heavily on the side of not coming out. But I hate to tell you this--those cons will always be there, whether you come out tomorrow or next year or in five years. Unless, somehow, you prepare your family ahead of time so you're certain they'll react favorably to your coming out (which there's no guarantee of, no matter how hard you try).

So here's how you get around that: Focus on the big picture--not on the hear-and-now but on the long term. In the case of Chris and me moving to Victoria, I had to weigh the inconvenience of moving, learning a new job, and uprooting Chris (among other things), against having the chance to live in a city I loved, earn a higher income, and have the experience of a lifetime. In the long-term, the benefits far outweighed the inconveniences and the risks, so we decided to do what made the most sense to us under the circumstances at the time.

This may be the case for you as well. Sure, there will be short-term pain for long-term gain. Yes, your family might be angry that you upset their apple cart by telling them you're gay. Yes, they might be disappointed and make you feel rejected for a time. But I believe this is one instance where you need to be focused on the future, six months or even a year down the road, and what the benefit to you will be. Nothing is worth having if there's no work or risk involved.

Listen, if it sounds like I'm telling you to come out right now, I'm not. I can't make that decision for you, only you can, based on your own particular circumstances. I wouldn't want you to do anything that might jeopardize your safety and security. With this post, all I've done is given you a tool, the pros and cons lists, which you can use to decide what's best for you at this time in your life.

Instead of obsessing about coming out, allowing all those thoughts to run around in your head and make you crazy, do something about it. Turn your thoughts and obsessions into points on pros and cons lists. Give yourself the opportunity to see everything you're thinking, everything going through your head, in black and white. When it's all there in front of you, I'm confident one side will weigh heavier than the other, and you'll know what the right thing for you to do is, whether that's coming out now or waiting until a better time.

But here's one thing I know for sure: You can't not ever come out. Staying in the closet isn't an option. In the past, too many people compromised the only lives they'll ever get by never coming out. Sooner or later, you'll have to do it, to whatever extent you're comfortable. Not coming out at all would be like denying everything you were meant to be. Would be like living only fifty percent of your life. Would be like living half free and half imprisoned. No one can live like that. No one should have to live like that.

For me, it's not a question of whether or not you'll come out. It's a question of when. And that should be the question you ask yourself, too.

Coming Out Month: "Why Come Out"

2011-10-21T12:46:00.000-07:00

On the subject of why gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender people should come out, Steven Petrow in Steven Petrow's Complete Gay & Lesbian Manners For Every Occasion has the following to say:

As you contemplate coming out to the straight people in your life, you may wonder why it's necessary. It's true that remaining in the closet is always an option: in previous generations many kept their sexuality private, and transgender people still often navigate a mixture of public and private identities. However, the stress and toll of maintaining a secret life can be challenging, even damaging.

Coming out, on the other hand, makes you visible to other LGBT people who can connect you with new friends and a new community. They can offer you moral support for this important step, plus avenues for finding work, leisure activities, and lovers.

Additionally, each time someone comes out, he opens the minds of his loved ones by setting a positive example of an LGBT person they now know. You can also serve as a role model--a resource--to others on their coming-out journeys.

I would also add that when people's minds are opened, and they no longer fear something they know nothing about, social attitudes change, too. That, I believe, is how circumstances have improved for us over the years and decades, and how they will continue to improve. The more people who come out, the more minds are opened, and the more positive change happens.

(Quote is from p. 8.)

Coming Out Month: Thought for the Day, #40

2011-10-21T12:42:00.000-07:00

...The experience of the closet can...lead those who stay in it, or return to it occasionally, into a Catch-22 situation. Without a doubt, maintaining secrecy about one's homosexuality allows one to elude the many manifestations of homophobia, from the seemingly harmless to the explicitly violent. But this veil of secrecy is a form of self-loathing, which only serves to exacerbate homophobic attitudes because the closeted person appears to agree that homosexuality is shameful and unmentionable. Further, the effort required to keep the closet door tightly shut may lead one to stubbornly insist on maintaining a heterosexual facade and thus adopt behaviors that are openly hostile to gays and lesbians. In these ways, the effects of homophobic oppression can be much harder on those who hide than it is on those who affirm their homosexuality.

(From "The Closet," by Philippe Mangeot, from The Dictionary of Homophobia: A Global History of Gay & Lesbian Experience, edited by Louis-Georges Tin, p. 108)

Coming Out Month: 12% Equality

2011-10-20T07:56:00.000-07:00

Last week, while Chris and I were on vacation in Whistler (pictures to follow), Sarah in Calgary forwarded to me an email she received from an organization called GetEQUAL. The email contained an eye-opening video released in conjunction with National Coming Out Day, held every October 11, which I want to share with you.

The purpose of the video will become apparent as you watch it, but the message at it's conclusion is worth capturing here:

Despite recent progress, and 42 years after Stonewall [which initiated the gay rights movement], LGBT Americans remain only 12% equal to straight Americans when it comes to...
* Hate crimes legislation (passed)
* Marriage equality
* Freedom of gender expression
* Safe schools and youth safety
* Parental rights
* Healthcare equity

I'm not sure where the figure of 12% comes from, but, whether the degree of inequity is 12 or 23 or 34% doesn't matter. The point is, LGBT Americans do not have the same rights as straight Americans, and GetEQUAL is in place to raise awareness, which it does effectively with this video.

To access the GetEQUAL website, please click here.

Chris and Rick's First Video (Updated)

2011-10-19T23:14:00.000-07:00

Here I am as you've never seen me before. Let me set this up.

Chris's niece, Jordan, and her fiance, Darcy, live in New Zealand and will be married there on November 11, 2011. Jordan's mom, Connie, who lives in Metro Vancouver the same as us, thought it would be a good idea for anyone unable to fly to New Zealand for the wedding to send their wishes to the happy couple in a video. So Chris and I set out to make a video. And what a video.

First, I had no idea iMovie on my MacBook takes movies (don't ask). Second, we tried to make a serious video, filled with sentiments befitting the occasion, but the harder we tried, the worse it got. Between not knowing what the hell we were doing and me becoming as giddy and crazy, well, we created a video all right, but not the one we thought we would.

What I love about this is you see Chris and me exactly as we are, and how we interact together--infinitely better than any picture of us I've published on my blog. This was one of the best evenings we've ever spent together. I don't remember the last time I had this much fun or laughed so hard snot ran from my nose. Brace yourself.

(Afterward: Many years ago, the person that I am in this video would have disgusted me. I would have found nothing but fault with him. But, today, I embrace everything that he is. Today, I laugh with and not at him. That's my journey. That's progress.)

Update: Connie, who's still in New Zealand at the time of this writing (Monday, November 14) sent the following email today regarding the reaction to Chris and my video at Jordan and Darcy's wedding reception: 'I was a bit worried about how the Kiwis would react to Chris and Rick's video clip. But they were the hit of the show. I kept hearing people behind us say, "WHO are those guys?" People were wondering if they're comedians."

No, no comedians. We're just a couple of fools who had no idea what the hell we were doing.

Thanks for the great feedback, Connie. Chris and I are glad the folks in New Zealand enjoyed our video.

Coming Out Month: 14 Questions

2011-10-19T16:04:00.000-07:00

Back to Coming Out Month at "This Gay Relationship" now, with a list of questions parents could ask (in one form or another) when their child tells them he's gay.

Below each question, I've included a brief answer I'd give if I were coming out today, which I hope helps you arrive at your own answer (keeping in mind your specifics will be different).

(Of course, my perspective on coming out, since I actually came out in 1986 and am now 52 years old, will be different from yours. But I'm hopeful you'll find something in my answers that will guide you.)

Question #1: How do you know you're gay?

I know I'm gay because I've always been attracted to men more than women. Even when I was a little boy, I found male teachers and neighbors nicer to look at, as well as male actors, singers, and dancers on TV. I've always considered men more interesting and appealing. That's just the way I am.

Question #2: How long have you known you're gay?

I guess I've known for most of my life that I was different from other boys, but I'd say I didn't know I was gay until my late teens. That's when I really became aware of a strong attraction toward men that wasn't there for women.

Question #3: Are you gay because of something I did or didn't do?

No, I understand you did everything you could to raise me the best way you knew how. I believe I was born gay, as many other people do, so there's nothing you could have done that would have made me turn out straight.

Question #4: How do you feel about being gay?

I won't lie to you, it's been tough acknowledging my sexual orientation and accepting it. It's taken a lot of years to come to terms with something society still doesn't approve of in many respects. But I realize now that being gay is just another part of me, like anything else, and I'm okay with it.

Question #5: Why did you have to come out now?

There's no good time to come out; whether I tell you now or later won't make a difference. Ultimately, I have to consider what's right for me, and I decided now was the best time to tell you so I can get on with living my life, including finding someone to love and to love me back.

Question #6: Have you gotten any information about being gay?

Yes, as I tried over the years to understand what being gay would mean for me, I did a lot of research and reading on the subject. And what I learned helped me in terms of breaking down the stereotypes and realizing every gay person is different, and I can be gay in whatever way works best for me.

Question #7: What does this mean for your future?

As I see it, my future is no different from that of someone who's straight. Homosexuality, in general, is accepted by a lot more people than it was, and there's no reason why I can't live a happy, productive, and fulfilling life just like everyone else. No need to worry about me; I'll get along fine.

Question #8: When do you plan to tell your father (or mother)?

Since I'm telling you now, I see no reason putting off telling him (or her). I don't want to live with this secret any longer; the sooner he (or she) knows, the sooner I can get on with living my life the way I was meant to. Plus, I don't want to put you in a position of keeping this from him (or her).

Question #9: Does your brother (or sister) know?

No, I haven't told my sister yet. You're the first person I wanted to tell, and, now that I've had this experience with you, I hope to find it a little easier telling the other important people in my life. I understand every time I tell someone, the discussion will get a little easier.

Question #10: What am I supposed to say to family members, friends, and neighbors?

Telling other people shouldn't be a concern of yours. I'm the one who's gay, so it's up to me to tell the people who I think should know. Anyone I choose not to tell doesn't need to know. Whether or not they know shouldn't make any difference to them.

Question #11: Do you know other gay people?

I've had difficulty meeting other gay people, but I've met some, and I consider them good friends. I don't want you to worry that because I'm gay, I'll never meet other people like me and end up alone. There are lots of gay people, and I'm hopeful I won't have a problem meeting that special someone.

Question #12: What about what the bible says about homosexuality and your soul?

I'm not so sure what some people claim the bible says about homosexuality is entirely correct. I think a lot of bible passages are open to interpretation, and some people use them in ways that serve their purposes, whatever those purposes may be. And I consider my soul to be between me and God.

Question #13: Are you sexually active?

Obviously, discussing my sex life with you makes me a little uncomfortable, in the same way discussing the details of your sex life with me would make you uncomfortable. But I will tell you I've had sex with other men.

Question #14: Do you practice safe sex?

I appreciate your concern for my health and wellbeing. If I feel comfortable enough with a partner to engage in sexual activities considered risky, I always practice safer sex. Everyone, gay or straight, should practice safer sex to protect ourselves and their partners.

"The Journey to Myself"--Guest Post

2011-10-18T17:27:00.000-07:00

Some of you will recall, back in July, that Donna Smaldone of The You Evolution asked me to write a guest post for her blog. It was the third in a series titled "When Being Gay Isn't Always Gay," and the first time a piece of my writing appeared somewhere other than my own blog.

I'm pleased to tell you that Donna recently invited me to contribute another guest post, this one about my journey to myself as a gay man, which she published today. I encourage you to swing over to Donna's website, take a few moments to read it, and explore what Donna has to offer in more depth.

Thanks again, Donna, for this wonderful opportunity. I sincerely appreciate your interest in what I have to say.

To read my post, please click here.

To access Donna's website, please click here.

Makes You Want to Holler

2011-10-18T15:02:00.000-07:00

More tragic news about yet another teen suicide.

James Hubley was 15 years old. He lived in Ottawa. He was openly gay at A. Y. Jackson Secondary in Kanata, a suburb of Canada's capital city. He was bullied. He died on Saturday, October 15.

I want you to know a little about this young man, and what he went through. The following excerpts are from "Gay Ottawa teen bared his emotional pain on blog," by Matthew Pearson, published in today's Vancouver Sun:

In his blog, James wrote: "I wish I could be happy, I try, I try, I try.... I just want to feel special to someone."

Suicide is the second-leading cause of death for Canadians between the ages of 10 and 24 and disproportionately affects gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender youth.

...The sensitive boy was struggling with being out in high school and often felt the sting of verbal bullying. ...All that Jamie wanted was what every teen wants, somebody to love.

His friend, Steph Wheeler said: "I just remember him wanting a boyfriend so bad.... I think he wanted someone to love him for who he was...."

...He wrote of his sadness and despair, about being called a "fag."

James said: ...Being gay in high school was so hard--a thousand times harder in real life than on the popular television show, Glee....

"I hate being the only open gay guy in school. It fucking sucks, I really want it to end," he wrote.

On Friday, Jamie made a final, heartbreaking post [on his blog]. He thanked his family and his friends, but wrote that he just couldn't take any more.

"It's just too hard," he wrote, later referencing It Gets Better, a popular online campaign in which millions of people have posted heartfelt messages directed at young people struggling with their sexuality and acceptance in the world.

"I don't want to wait three more years, this hurts too much. How do you even know it will get better?"

As I sit here in front of my laptop, reflecting on everything above, I don't even know what to write anymore.

This young man, this precious soul, killed himself because he was gay. Can there be any less a reason to kill yourself, especially since there's nothing wrong with being gay? This isn't good enough, dear readers. What can we do to get the message out that this isn't good enough? That we're not going to accept this? That this can't happen again?

Accountability. I want someone held accountable for James's death. James took the pills that ended his life, yes. But he died at the hands of others. They are responsible. They have his blood on them. They made life intolerable for him, put the gun to his head, and pulled the trigger.

Who is to blame? Our culture? James's parents? The principal and teachers at the school he attended? The bullies? Religion? Who? I want to know. You should want to know. All of us should want--need--this to end.

Because, you know what? This could have been me. This could easily have been me. In the 1970s. When the bullying I put up with for years was so harsh and bitter, I didn't know if I could take it. How easy it would have been to find my mother's bottle of Valium and consume every pill. I wanted my pain to end. I would have done anything to make my pain end. Except, thank God, commit suicide. Somehow, I found the strength. I don't know where, but I did.

You bet I'm pissed off. I'm angry as hell, and you should be, too. We cannot accept this any longer. None of us. Our young people deserve better. None of them deserve to die because they're gay. This has to stop.

THIS MUST STOP!!!

(I encourage you to click here to check out Ian Capstick's terrific article "Coming Out Should Be Easier," published in the Ottawa Citizen on October 18, regarding the recent suicide of James Hubley, and what we can do to stop the insanity. Thanks, Sarah, for bringing this to my attention so I can bring it to the attention of my readers. I appreciate your thoughtfulness and support.)

Coming Out Month: Thought for the Day, #39

2011-10-18T13:50:00.000-07:00

Burst down those closet doors once and for all, and stand up and start to fight.
-- Harvey Milk

Coming Out Month: Who is Coming Out About?

2011-10-18T13:42:00.000-07:00

Here's a comment I received from a faithful reader in Calgary, to the post titled "Coming Out Don'ts." I so appreciated what Sarah wrote that I needed to place it front and centre during Coming Out Month at "This Gay Relationship."

For me, Sarah, a straight mother of three, exactly captures the issues related to coming out, forcing us to ask the question, Who is coming out about anyway? As you'll see from the comment, parents usually make it about themselves.

Thanks for the words, Sarah. I couldn't have said it better myself.

Seems to me a lot of the turmoil [related to coming out] comes from parents's expectations of their kids and the blind assumptions we make for them. A bit like the football coach dad whose son wants to take ballet, there would come a time when the son had to have a challenging conversation, which would probably be really stressful, and might lead to the dad viewing the son in a different light. Which, to me, means we have to allow our children to have the freedom to be whoever they want to be, not to follow our preconceived notions.

...From what I've read, a lot of parents have trouble coming to terms with their kids being gay because all of their preconceived ideas fall away..."I won't be able to shop with my daughter-in-law, you won't have kids [why not?], what will I tell my friends?" There's nothing in that conversation that has anything to do with the woman's son, but has everything to do with her, and maybe that's the problem.

Parents should learn to live their own lives, and be happy for their children, regardless of how it will impact their own lives. We raise them to be independent, right?

Coming Out Month: Congratulations, Zachary Quinto

2011-10-18T13:19:00.000-07:00

Every occasion when someone from the entertainment industry comes out of the closet is reason to rejoice and celebrate.

Among the latest is Zachary Quinto, who played Spock in the 2009 remake of "Star Trek," based on the 1960s TV series of the same name. In an article titled "What's Up, Spock?", by Benjamin Wallace, which appeared in New York Magazine on October 16, Quinto said the recent suicide death of bully victim Jamey Rodemeyer inspired him to come out publicly. Quinto blogged: "...When I found out that Jamey Rodemeyer had made an "It Gets Better" video only months before taking his own life, I felt indescribable despair."

Whenever I hear about a well-known man or woman coming out, I smile to myself and my heart is gladdened. In my mind, I see a solitary human being bravely setting off from the safe mass on one side...to the other side, where only a few are gathered, and where the future appears uncertain. No worries, Zachary. Welcome to our side--the side that stands for identity, authenticity, and freedom. From those of us who've been here for a while, the future is good. You're going to be all right.

Every person who comes out, well-known or not, is a victory not only for him or her, but for all of us. Our number is small, but it's made up of those with a lot of courage and a lot of heart. More than ever, our ranks are growing. Everyday, people all over the world come out, to family and friends, fellow students and colleagues--each one inspiring someone else to come out, each one setting an example of what's possible, each one proving how alike gay and lesbian people are to everyone else.

But I, like them, eagerly await the day when coming out is no longer necessary, when we no longer have to be separate from everyone else to be ourselves, and when the mass that is humanity accommodates all of us, just as we are. That day will come. It's well on the way.

For the New York Magazine interview with Zachary Quinto, please click here.

For my blog post on Jamey Rodemeyer titled "Stop the Insanity," please click here.

Men 50 and Over

2011-10-17T15:42:00.000-07:00

Picture of Steve, 58, taken by Tommy Wu and Alan Reade

Today, I'm taking a short detour from Coming Out Month at "This Gay Relationship" (which, at the beginning of October, I suggested I might). Over the weekend, I saw a piece at Advocate.com that on first glance made me happy, on second made me unhappy, and I want to tell you about it.

What got my attention was an article called "Men Over 50," featuring photographs of older men (I understand some gay, some not), between the ages of 50 and 67, all of whom have obviously taken good care of themselves over the years and have reason to be proud of their bodies.

That said, the preamble to the article states the following:

We hear that gay men are obsessed with youth. Really? Tommy Wu and Alan Reade have a different perspective in their photos of men living beautifully into the second half of the century.

Being over fifty myself, what initially appealed to me about this article was that Advocate.com published it at all. In the gay male world, any man over thirty is old and no longer considered newsworthy, sexy, or desirable (what I call sexually viable). And, since there's such an over-emphasis on sex in the gay male community--as well as a tendency to eschew relationships for the single life--remaining sexually viable, well into old age, remains critical, especially if you don't want to end up alone and lonely.

I understand what Wu and Reade are trying to do with this series of photographs, but several things are wrong with what I see here.

Contrary to dispelling the supposed myth that gay men are obsessed with youth, rather, the series reinforces it by featuring mostly shirtless older men who, without question, spend hard time at the gym. Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with working out and being fit--I'd like to think older gay men do it more for the benefit of their health than to attract younger men, although I know I'm wrong--but I think what we see in these pictures is unrealistic and not representative of the demographic in question.

Gay men, who aspire to continue turning heads, particularly those of men younger than themselves, might well be motivated to spend long hours running on treadmills and pumping weight, but the average man (read: straight) 50 and over couldn't care less about having a buff body. To prove my point, take a look in any gym across North America, where there isn't a large gay male population, and you'll see older men are largely absent.

I'm not sure who made the decision that these men should be photographed shirtless, but it was an unfortunate error in judgement. What's wrong with admiring the beauty of age in men with their shirts on? Sure, men like Steve (in the picture above) have beautiful bodies, irrespective of their ages, and they're entitled to show them off, when the time is right. But, clearly, the time isn't right in an article where the point is to disprove gay men are obsessed with youth.

A series such as this perpetuates the importance of physical appearance over factors related to being human and older that matter far more. For example, accomplishment, contribution, and character. Instead of making the true value of age a matter of a youthful body and sexual vitality, why not share with readers who these men are as individuals, what they achieved in their lives, what they learned about themselves and the world, what they can teach us to make our lives easier or better, etc.?

Self-esteem in the gay male community has always been centered on facial beauty, muscular bodies, and desirability to other men, but all of that must change. You'd think by the time we reach our 50s, we could focus on something else, something less stereotypical, something more consequential than proving we can still compete with, or attract, younger men. As a community, when are we going to get that value as a human being, gay or otherwise, is not about physical appearance or looking hot?

Here are some of the comments the article received from readers:

"Loved the article. But not all of us are chiseled Gods and we manage to make a difference." (Stephen Edwards)

"The pictures were nice to look at but only go so far. I would have rather read about their inspirations, accomplishments, adversities, etc." (Cory Crowther)

'"We hear gay men are obsessed with youth. Really?" If you really wanted to disprove this you would not have a collection of men who look as if they spend half their waking moments in the gym...which screams "youth obsessed" to me!' (Paul Keckonen)

'Shouldn't the title be "Gym Bunnies Over 50"?' (Michael B. Welch)

For the full article at Advocate.com, please click here.

Coming Out Month: A Coming Out Party (Reprise)

2011-10-14T17:54:00.000-07:00

Some years ago, Chris and I went out for dinner with my first lover, Adrian, and his partner, and, on that occasion, Adrian told us how he'd come out to his family and friends years earlier. You may find his method radical, but I can't think of a more efficient or effective way to do it.

Once Adrian had accepted his sexual orientation--that is, when he refused to believe there was anything wrong with him because he was gay--he held a coming out party, of sorts. He gathered all his relatives and friends together and told them he was gay. The message came directly from him, and everyone heard the exact same words at the same time.

His big secret revealed, Adrian then told everyone it was up to them to deal with it and left.

No question, he took a bold position, both with his admission and how those he was closest to would be affected by it. But he got it over with all at once, and he ensured everyone was in the company of others who would help them through the initial shock, if they needed support.

Adrian never told us the outcome of what he did that day, but I believe the confidence he exhibited during his announcement, and the position he took that this is the way I am, take it or leave it, showed everyone he was okay with himself, and they should be, too.

I give Adrian a lot of credit for the way he came out. Unlike most of us, who put other people's feelings ahead of our own, he made his coming out about him. Which, if you think about it, is the way it should be, since we're the ones most profoundly affected by our sexual orientation.

If you're thinking of coming out anytime soon, you might want to consider this bungee-jumping alternative--if you dare.

Coming Out Month: Coming Out Don'ts

2011-10-13T15:23:00.000-07:00

When coming out, here are a number of things you might not want to do:

(For the list of Coming Out Dos, please click here.)

Coming Out Don’ts
	Comments
Don’t be intoxicated.	You might think a little liquid courage will give you the confidence to come out, but I don't recommend it. The words you use might not be the best ones, and you could make an already difficult situation worse. Better to be completely sober and conscious when you tell someone you're gay.
Don’t come out in the middle of a fight, argument, or confrontation.	Blurting out that you’re gay in the heat of the moment, when you’re having an argument or fight, might seem like the right thing to do at the time. But, believe me, it isn’t, particularly if it's your intention to stick it to a loved one by admitting you're gay. This one will backfire on you, so don't do it. You'll wish you hadn't. Wait until you're calm and steady and in control of your emotions and words.
Don’t be surprised if some people already figured out you’re gay.	It could be the person you’re coming out to already considered the possibility you’re gay and, even better, accepted that about you. So much the better. This will make your job easier. On the other hand, don't be insulted if someone thought you're gay before you came out. Don't question it. It could make your job a lot easier.
Don’t expect every reaction you receive to be positive.	Depending on who you tell and what they think about homosexuality, people’s reactions will be different. Be prepared for that. Some people’s reactions may be negative, at least initially. But, upon reflection, they’ll come around and support you, just as you’d hoped they would. This is what typically happens for most gay and lesbian people.
Don’t collapse or crumble under the stress of the moment.	First, have the guts to stand up for yourself and finish the job you start. And, if the reaction you receive isn’t good, respect yourself enough to walk away. You’re gay, for goodness sake. You didn’t kill anyone. Keep everything in perspective.
Don’t expect everything you say to be perfect, and don’t get frustrated at yourself if it isn't.	Yes, you’ll be nervous. Yes, you’ll probably stutter and stammer as you try to find the right words. Even if you rehearsed in your mind what you intend to say, you might forget some of it in the moment. That’s all right. Remember to breathe and keep going. You’ll get back on track. Be patient with and don't judge yourself.
Don’t mumble.	You might think you can get away with mumbling a few words and out yourself, the person you're telling accepting you wholeheartedly, But it doesn't work that way. Be sure the person hears you correctly so there's no confusion about what you said. The only thing worse than having to come out once is having to come out a second time, to the same person, because you did a sloppy job the first time around.
Don’t expect coming out to be over quickly.	At the time I came out to my mother, I hadn’t thought about the ball I'd gotten rolling--in other words, all the other people I'd have to come out to in addition. Not only did I have the rest of my family, but also I had friends and co-workers. And, because friends come and go and, in my case, because I worked in different locations, I continuously faced the task of coming out, as all gay and lesbian people do to some extent. Coming out is a continuous process that takes place over a lifetime, but, the more often you do it, the easier and more natural it becomes. And the less you care about having to do it.
Don’t get your sexuality wrong.	Some think telling loved ones they're bisexual is more palatable than admitting they're gay, but I suggest coming out only when you know for sure what your sexual orientation is. By trying to soften the blow, all you do is create confusion, both for yourself and your loved ones. Get it right the first time. Own what you really are and move on.
Don’t take bad reactions personally.	Yes, you’re the person who’s gay, who’s sitting down with a family member or friend and admitting your sexual orientation. So you might think you’re responsible when your family member or friend reacts badly. But don’t take that on. It’s not about you. You are what you are; you can't help that. Nor can you help your loved one's reaction. They own that, not you.
Don’t rush.	You might want to say what you have to and escape as quickly as possible, leaving loved ones wondering what just happened, but I wouldn’t recommend that. Unless you and the person you’ve told you’re gay need a cooling off period, in which case you can provide further details at a later date. Otherwise, while planning to come out, give yourself lots of time to say what needs to be said and to answer any questions or address any concerns that come up.
Don’t use the word “gay” if you’re not comfortable with it.	When I came out, the term “gay,” and all it stood for, was hard for me. In fact, I hated the word. That’s because, even though I’d begun to accept myself and realize being gay wasn’t so bad after all, it felt hard and final and confrontational. And I didn’t think it described what I was, or how I felt about myself. So, instead of saying, “Mom, I’m gay,” try, “Mom, I’m not into girls like other guys are,” or, “Dad, I prefer the company of other guys.” And go from there.
Don’t come out in a car moving down the road.	The first person I came out to, a good friend at the time named Judy, was when we were both in a car. But the car was parked under the apartment building where I lived at the time. Judy and I had enjoyed a night of dancing together, we’d gone out for something to eat, and we found ourselves watching the sun come up as we sat in my car, talking about everything, including my homosexuality. But I would never have come out to her, or to anyone for that matter, if we’d been in a moving car. It’s not the time or place. If you’re driving, and the reaction from the person you’re telling is bad, you could be significantly distracted. And, if you’re not driving, you could impair the driver’s ability to keep focused on the road. Either way, you could find yourself in a worse mess than coming out.
Don’t come out on Facebook or online before your family knows.	Young people today use websites like Facebook to tell the world everything about themselves. But coming out online before you sit down with the people important to you is not the right or respectful route to go. No mother or father should have to learn his or her son or daughter is gay by reading it on Facebook, or, worse, hearing it from someone who’s seen it on your profile or in a video. There are much better, more effective, ways to come out.
Don’t avoid talking about it again.	Once you’re out, you don’t have to be in the face of everyone you’ve told, bringing it up again and again. Respect that each person will need a different length of time to process what you said. On the other hand, don’t avoid discussion of it altogether. If you do, you might give family and friends the impression your coming out never happened. And they could fall into a comfortable place of denial. Be sure your loved ones know you’re happy to discuss your sexual orientation, and to answer any questions they may have, when they’re ready.
Don’t assume people won’t change.	When my mother reacted badly to learning I was gay, I believed I’d done irreparable damage to our relationship, and things between us would never again be the way they were before. But I was wrong. And I thought when my father found out (through my mother), he’d hold it against me for the rest of my life. But I was wrong. People change. People are resilient, even in the face of what they consider the most difficult and distressing news. Give those you come out to the benefit of a doubt. In other words, don’t write anyone off. Ninety-nine point nine percent of the time, people come around. And you’ll find everything will get back to normal—only this time, you won’t be keeping a big secret, and you'll be able to get on with the life you were meant to live.

Coming Out Month: Coming Out Dos

2011-10-12T14:49:00.000-07:00

When coming out, here are a number of things you might want to do:

(For the list of Coming Out Don'ts, please click here.)

Coming Out Dos
	Comment
Do lead up to it.	I’m a big advocate of a softer, gentler approach. Sure, you could come right out and say, “Mom, Dad, I’m gay,” but I believe the message would be more shocking than it needs to be. If you’re more the direct kind, by all means do what you want to do. But, if you want to ease your parents into it, then plant a few seeds ahead of time. For example, find out what they think about current subjects in the news, like same-sex marriage. By their reactions, gauge how challenging (or not) this big step could be for you. Don’t go into it cold. Don’t hit them over the head if you don't have to.
Do be financially independent.	No way could I have told my parents I was gay while I still lived at home. What if things had gone badly? What if they’d kicked me out? A good many young people come out when they’re still dependent on their parents and end up on the street with nowhere to go. Don’t be another unfortunate homeless statistic. Wait to come out after you’re on your own (if you can).
Do be prepared.	Before you come out to anyone, be prepared. Know what you want to say and how you want to say it. Anticipate the reactions you might receive, from mild surprise to outright anger. Have ready answers available for the questions you could be asked (there will be a future post on this). Figure out where you’ll spend the night if you still live at home but can’t stay there for a few days or longer. I’m a fan of managing situations as much as I can. No, you can’t manage other people, but you can manage you by anticipating the best and worst case scenarios, and everything in between.
Do come out to someone you trust first.	Parents are among the hardest people to come out to because of the high stakes. Rather than come out to them first, why not confide in someone else you trust? This person could be a good friend, a fellow student, or a colleague. Choosing to reveal your truth to him or her first will give you valuable experience with the coming out process, build your confidence level, and provide you with much-needed support should coming out to your parents not go well.
Do ensure the time and the place are appropriate.	Coming out to your mother while she’s driving the car at 100 kms per hour on the freeway may not be the wisest choice. Coming out to your entire family around the Christmas dinner table may not be the wisest choice. You get the idea. There’s a right time and a right place for everything, and you should go out of your way to ensure both are right when you come out.
Do be ready in your own mind that this is the right thing for you do to.	You are not on anyone else’s timetable to come out. Every gay person has to get to the point where he accepts his own homosexuality before he can tell anyone about it. Arrive at that place first, and don't let anyone talk you into doing it before you're ready.
Do breathe.	Sounds silly, doesn’t it? After all, breathing is something we all do naturally; it’s a part of being alive. But when you’re nervous or in the middle of a difficult situation, circumstances become worse if your breathing is shallow or if your body doesn’t receive the oxygen it needs. So remember to breath deeply and evenly. Take air right down into your diaphragm. Be conscious of your breaths. Breathing properly will help you control your nervousness, and keep you calm and levelheaded as you make your way through the coming out process.
Do be sure you’re sitting down.	It’s nerve-wracking to admit to someone you’re gay. You’ll need all the support you can get, including having a comfortable chair to sit on so that, if your legs turn to jelly, you don’t fall. A firm chair beneath you will help you feel more comfortable and secure.
Do be yourself, both while you come out and afterward.	By being yourself, you confirm for the person you’re coming out to that you’re still who they know and love. Just because you’re gay doesn’t mean you suddenly become someone else. And don’t think that just because you’re out, you have to be and act like you think gay people do. Resist becoming a stereotype. Be gay on your own terms.
Do the job alone.	In other words, don’t bring along a trusted friend or someone you’ve already told you’re gay. And never bring your new lover. This is not the time to tell your parents you’re gay, and, “Oh, by the way Mom, here’s Glen, the guy who shares my bed." Respect the person you’re telling by doing it one-on-one, or, in the case of both parents, one-on-two.
Do follow through.	Your intention is to tell someone important to you that you're gay. So get the job done. Don’t give up because the reaction you get is bad, or because you lost your nerve at the last minute. Coming out will never get any easier. Assuming you've done your planning and you're ready, now is the time. Make it happen. You’ll be grateful you did.
Do find out how the people you plan to come out to feel about homosexuality.	When I was in college, long before I came out, one of my assignments was to design a survey, compile the results, and interpret what they meant. So I decided to do a survey on current attitudes toward homosexuality (remember this was 1978). I gave the survey to everyone I knew, including my parents, and, although the answers were anonymous overall, I knew how each individual answered when the completed surveys were returned to me. There are other ways to find out how people you love feel about homosexuality, so be creative.
Do be respectful of the situation and the person you’re coming out to.	Yes, you may be impatient about the whole coming out process and wonder why you’re in the position of having to come out at all, especially since you’ve already accepted yourself and can’t understand why everyone doesn’t. Fair enough. But have respect for the people you tell. They may have no idea you’re gay. They may feel they have a stake in you being straight and living your life as a straight person. The more respect you have for the people you tell, the more respect you’re likely to receive back when you say the words.
Do be ready for any reaction you receive.	If there’s anything I learned when I came out to various people, it’s that those you think will take it well don’t, and those you don’t think will take it well do. So be prepared for that. Reactions could range from immediate acceptance, to indifference, to shock, outrage, and anger. Be ready for all of them and don't overreact when things don't go as expected.
Do get the person you told previously on side.	One of the reasons why you told this trusted person before your parents, for example, is because you hoped he’d be there for you as you continued to come out to other family members and friends, and in case you needed moral support or a place to stay for the night. Just as you’re about to tell a parent you’re gay, let this person know. That will put him or her on notice that he or she could be called upon to help you if need be.
Do give people as much time as they need to process what you tell them.	Remember, you took years (perhaps most of your life) to come to terms with being gay. Depending on their reactions, those you tell may need anywhere from a few minutes, to days, to weeks, to months, or even longer to work through what they need to. Give them all the time they need, and be there for them if necessary.
Do come out in a letter if you think that might be the best way.	There’s nothing wrong with a letter. No, you’re not a coward if you choose to come out that way. Rather, it means you want the time to think about the perfect way to say what you have to, and to get it down on paper. It beats stuttering and stammering, and not being able to get the job done right. You can either send the letter to the person and follow-up on it, or you can hand the person the letter, wait while he reads it, and be available for a discussion afterward. Either way works. (For a sample of a coming out letter, please click here.)
Do focus on being gay is about love and not about sex.	People get hung up on the sex part. They just do. Perhaps you haven’t given a moment’s thought to the person you’re coming out to having sex with his partner, but, when people find out someone is gay, almost immediately, the focus is on sex. Be sure to tell the person you’re coming out to that being gay is about who you love, not who you have sex with. I think he’ll relate to you better when you talk about how we all have love in common.
Do rehearse beforehand.	At a certain point, the person you’re telling will likely interrupt to make a comment or ask a question. But, before then, it will be all you and a lot of dead air. Prior to entering this emotionally charged situation, think about what you want to say. How will you say that you’re gay? What words will you use? After you say it, what else do you want the person to know?
Do come out.	That’s right. Come out. Make it happen. It’ll be the best thing you’ll ever do for yourself. Because it's about you. It’s about finally owning what you are and not being held back or restricted by it any longer. Set yourself free. Be who you were meant to be. The world needs all of you, not just the part you don’t hide.

Coming Out Month: Coming Out Day, October 11, 2011

2011-10-10T12:21:00.000-07:00

Happy Coming Out Day!

If you came out today, CONGRATULATIONS! As a gay man or lesbian woman, it's one of the most difficult things you'll ever do, and it's the best thing you've ever done.

If coming out was particularly difficult, and you have no one to talk to about it, I invite you to leave a comment on this post or to send me an email directly. I want to be there for you and support you in any way I can.

Sometimes, all you need to do is tell someone how you're feeling. Go ahead and tell me. I'm listening.

Hang in there. You might not feel good about yourself and your life right now, because your secret is finally out and the reactions of your loved ones's weren't the best. But you will, I promise. Give it time.

You've given your family and friends a lot to think about. Let them digest your words and offer to be there for them to answer any questions they may have. Remember: You took years to come to terms with your homosexuality. Give your loved ones the time they need, too. They will come around.

Life will be good again. In fact, it will be much better than when you were in the closet. Anything is better than that.

Coming Out Month: Coming Out Online

2011-10-10T12:00:00.000-07:00

In this age of Facebook, YouTube, and Twitter, many of us might think coming out to family and friends online is the way to go. After all, there are some advantages:

* you don't have to look anyone in the eye and do the deed;
* you don't have to deal with unfavorable reactions (not right away);
* everyone (including the entire world) finds out at the same time.

But Steven Petrow, writer of Steven Petrow's Complete Gay & Lesbian Manners For Every Occasion and webmaster of gaymanners.com, and I agree on this point: Coming out online, particularly if many of your family and friends have no idea you're gay, is bad form and shows a lack of respect for people who are supposedly important to you.

According to some comments on Advocate.com, coming out is all about us and not about those we tell. They maintain it's already difficult enough admitting to someone you're gay without making it more formal, stuffy, and painful. Let's just get it out there, they think, favoring a more casual disclosure, a sort of dine and dash approach.

I couldn't disagree more. Putting the shoe on the opposite foot, if I had a son or daughter, whom I loved very much, I would be insulted and offended big time to learn online that he or she is gay. And I'd ask myself, where do I fit into his or her life, in terms of priorities, if I didn't even rate being told something so personal to my face?

As much as I'd like coming out to be all about us--because getting to the point of coming out is a long and difficult process on its own--we have to respect that many of those we love may have no idea we're gay and not react favorably to our news, at least not at the outset. This is one instance where I believe it's in the best interests of all concerned to let the other person's feelings dictate the right course of action.

So, as Petrow advises, "Instead [of coming out online,] this year's National Coming Out Day could be an opportunity to start the conversation with family and friends. Email or text them and say, "There's something important I'd like to talk with you about." Don't make it sound too ominous--you don't want them to think you're ill--but be serious enough that they accept the invitation. Remember, every time we come out we change the stereotypes straight folks have about LGBT people."

Great advice!

(To read the full article at Advocate.com, please click here.)

Coming Out Month: Thought for the Day, #38

2011-10-10T10:49:00.000-07:00

"Coming out" is the central event of a gay man's life. It is at once an act of self-acknowledgement, self-acceptance, self-affirmation, and self-revelation intimately linked to how he views himself and how he interacts with the world. It can happen in stages, or be an instance of illumination in which a gay man recognizes who he is. It can be interior, a psychological sorting of facts and feelings, or an external act of identification to another person or persons. For most gay men, coming out involves all of these in one way or another. Because the individual's very identity is involved, and society in general makes such an issue of sexuality..., the event is intimately linked to how the person views himself and how he responds to other people and the world. So much is at stake that the way in which a man comes out can reverberate throughout his entire life, whether the response to his disclosure is positive, negative, or neutral."Coming out"

(From Boys Like Us: Gay Writers Tell Their Coming Out Stories, edited by Patrick Merla, p. xvi.)

Hate is Not a Family Value (Guest Post)

2011-10-08T08:08:00.000-07:00

Today's guest post comes to us from S. B. Graves. Over the past months, I've received feedback from this devoted reader, whose writing, voice, and sensibility I not only identify with but also appreciate. I've wanted to approach S. B. to write a guest post for a long time, and I'm thrilled to share this with you. I hope you enjoy what S. B. wrote as much as I do. Please be sure to let me know your comment.

Thanks, Rick, for the generous opportunity to write a guest piece for your wonderful blog!

As I considered what I could share of value with your readers, I realized that my perspective, both now and before becoming aware of the issues facing LGBT people, might resonate for gays and lesbians, as well as for straight people: in the case of the former, wondering how straight people can often be so clueless, and, the latter, becoming aware of the current climate in which LGBT people are trying to live their lives.

I’ve tried to remember what was happening in my life when former Prime Minister Paul Martin made same-sex marriage legal in Canada, because the debate is but a dim memory. I wish I could say I was writing letters and campaigning with the same devotion I do today, but that’s not the case. I was building a house (me, the English major, taking on the role of general contractor) and raising (I use the term loosely) three kids. Gay marriage simply wasn’t on my radar.

But that’s my point: For better or worse, I just didn’t care. I was far too busy pleading with recalcitrant roofers and stoned dry-wallers to worry about what honeymoon plans two guys down the road might have. Had I paid closer attention, and been aware of the opposition to same-sex marriage that came from some quarters (most, notably, my own province of Alberta), I probably would have gotten involved, for the same reason I’m involved today: Because it isn’t fair to deny a person’s human rights on the basis of sexual orientation, any more than on gender, race, or religion.

It never occurred to me to think that same-sex marriage would have any effect on my own marriage, as some anti-marriage activists suggest. Which makes me wonder: What drives some straight people to so fervently deny the rights of others, or, in the case of the recent Institute for Canadian Standards ad in the National Post, request that we not tell children at all about gays, lesbians, or transgendered people? Whether the discussion is about same-sex marriage (six years ago here, now in the US) or current classroom anti-homophobia and anti-bullying programs in Canada, there is a vociferous group of people who are under the impression it is their job to deny human rights to anyone who isn’t straight.

I certainly understand being so wrapped up in one’s own life that he or she simply doesn’t have time to think about current events; it’s not an ideal situation, but it is reality for certain periods of one’s life. What I genuinely do not understand is why certain straight people, like conservative radio host Kari Simpson, who filed a police complaint about Burnaby’s anti-homophobia school program, make it their life’s mission to promote discrimination and hatred. What can they possibly gain?

Personally, I believe that if you are straight, it is your responsibility, as a member of the group that primarily does the discriminating, to defend others. While I am blown away by the huge amount of work gay activists have done to move LGBT rights forward, straight people need to join in as well. The civil rights movement got a huge boost when whites joined blacks in marches and demonstrations. We need to do the same for LGBT people today.

In his wonderful rebuttal to John Carpay’s bigoted editorial in the Calgary Herald, Professor Darren E. Lund quotes Elie Wiesel: "I swore never to be silent whenever and wherever human beings endure suffering and humiliation. We must always take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented." And, similarly, Martin Luther King, Jr. wrote: “History will have to record that the greatest tragedy of this period of social transition was not the strident clamor of the bad people, but the appalling silence of the good people.”

For any straight person reading this and asking, “What does this have to do with me?”, I urge you to speak up. Challenge your children and their friends, your friends and co-workers, when they say things like "that’s so gay." Tell them comments like that offend you. It’s difficult the first time. It’s not in our nature as Canadians to be self-righteous, to draw attention to ourselves. We tend to be British about it and pass it off.

But, as someone who was born in the United States, being opinionated comes as naturally as eating chocolate. For the polite Canadians reading this, I encourage you to channel your inner American! Start small, start with your own family. If your kids say "that’s so gay" or "faggot" with regularity, make sure they understand how comments like that affect every gay kid who hears it at school. Studies have shown that all kids, gay and straight, bullied and not-bullied alike, do better in schools where anti-bullying programs are in place. Please make sure your kid is on the side of providing solutions rather than creating problems.

Don’t assume your kids are straight. Maybe they are, but, in some cases, you won’t know for sure until they’re adults. Consider this when making statements.

If adults you know make homophobic comments, tell them, “I find that offensive.” Repeat it every time it happens. They may react with denial or justifications at the time, but, in my experience, they’ll stop saying it eventually. Too often we consider the feelings of those making the bigoted statements, rather than the feelings of those targeted. I promise, the first time you call out someone for a making a hateful remark is the hardest. After that, it becomes a refrain.

It isn’t enough to support gay rights; you must challenge those who are against gay rights. It isn’t enough for our kids to stand back and not bully; they need to defend their gay and lesbian classmates. Part of what makes a country healthy is its ability to look out for everyone, not just those who are members of the majority. I truly believe it’s our duty as members of a productive society to stand up for people, to defend those who are persecuted, and not to remain silent.

Coming Out Month: A Sample Coming Out Letter

2011-10-07T15:56:00.000-07:00

Continuing on the theme of Coming Out Month, gay people choose to come out--for example, to parents--in different ways, depending on the method they think will work best for them. One of those ways is in a letter. There are several reasons why you might write a letter instead of come out in person, or why you might use a letter in conjunction with coming out in person.

On occasion, I've used letters to deliver potentially difficult messages, because, in my case, I'm a better writer than speaker. Usually, before I sit down to write, I've given what I want to say careful thought. So, by the time I put pen to paper, I have notes spread around me to refer to so I'm sure to include everything.

In addition to content, writing allows me to get the form right, too. The process of writing affords me the opportunity to edit until I'm satisfied with the expression of every thought and the use of every word. So, rather than stutter and stammer, as I do when I'm nervous, my message comes across smoothly and effectively.

In my reading, I recently came upon a letter a man used to tell his parents he's gay. For the most part, the letter is well written and effective; however, some of the details were specific to his situation. Using his letter as a starting point, I made several changes, which I hope suit your specific circumstances better. That said, feel free to make whatever additional changes are appropriate to you and your situation.

Even though your choice may be to come out in person, you might still find the letter helpful, in terms of identifying points you want to cover and specific phrasing you could use. Whatever the case, I hope you find the content of this letter helpful in your own coming out process.

A Sample Coming Out Letter

Dear Mom and Dad,

For a long time, I've wanted to tell you something that, for reasons that will become apparent in a moment, I haven't been able to. But, before I do, I want you to know that I love you, and nothing will change that.

There's no easy way to say this, so I'll just tell you that I'm gay. I've known that I'm gay for most, if not all, of my life. Keeping this secret from you has been difficult for me and an increasing burden over the years. It's also placed an invisible wall between us, because I can't share with you some things about me or what's going on in my life.

I know that learning I'm gay might shock you, make you feel confused, angry, and sad. And you might blame yourself, thinking you failed as parents. All of these reactions are natural and common. But be assured you haven't failed as parents, because of what you did or didn't do, any more than I made a conscious choice to be gay. Over time, I've been able to accept myself, I'm happy with who and what I am, and my life is good. I'm hopeful you can be happy for me, too.

Part of me thinks you might have suspected for some time that I'm gay, because I never brought home girls while I was in school, or because I never dated any. On the other hand, perhaps my being gay is a complete surprise, and you need time to become accustomed to the idea. Whichever is the case, ultimately, I hope our relationship will be closer than it has been in the past.

Among the reasons why I'm coming out to you now is to bring down the wall between us. When you ask me about what's going on in my life and I tell you nothing, I haven't been honest. I didn't tell you the truth because I couldn't. Not being able to share with you details of my life has been eating at me for some time, and I can't do it anymore. As I see it, I had two choices: Either I could keep the distance between us by holding things back from you, or I could tell you the truth and hope that our relationship would be better in the long run.

I know you've always loved me. Writing this letter and sending it to you has been one of the most difficult things I've ever done, because of the fear I could lose that love. Although you may not understand about my being gay, I hope your love for me hasn't changed. I'm still the same person I was before. The only thing that's different is you now know I'm gay.

No doubt, you need time to think about what you've read in this letter. When you're ready, please call me so we can talk about it.

Love,

Your name

(For those of you who are interested, the original letter is located here. It's also found in a slightly different form on page 9 of Steven Petrow's Complete Gay & Lesbian Manners For Every Occasion: The Definitive Guide to LGBT Life, by Steven Petrow, with Sally Chew.)

Coming Out Month: We Need You

2011-10-06T14:26:00.000-07:00

In my research for an upcoming post, for Coming Out Month here at "This Gay Relationship," I watched a YouTube video from a young, gay man named Dan, who said he was impatient with gay people who didn’t come out and urged them to do it, because, as he put it, we need you.

And so we do.

Of course, it’s not easy to come out to parents, friends, fellow students, teachers, colleagues, and whoever else might be in our lives. Having come out himself, Dan understands that, and so do I. I know from personal experience how difficult and lengthy the process can be for many of us--to get to the point where we feel comfortable enough with ourselves and our sexual orientations to tell people, particularly those we love and who love us back, or who we're dependent on in some way. But that doesn’t take away from one simple fact: We need you.

First of all, I need you. I need you as another out gay brother or lesbian sister. I need you out because I care what happens to you--perhaps more than I should. I know what living life in the closet is like. It isn’t living; it’s existing. It’s getting by from one day to the next, going through the motions, knowing in your heart there’s so much more, yet not being a part of it. From my own experience, I know just how much more is waiting for you after you’ve come out, after you’ve embraced yourself and everything you are, and I want you to take full advantage of that. After all, you have only one life to live, and there’s no time to waste.

I need you to come out, too, because, even in 2011, it’s lonely out here. Sure, gay and lesbian people are everywhere. But, to a large extent, unless you frequent the places where they gather--for example, in the gay ghettos of large cities, bars, clubs, and organizations--we’re all isolated. It’s difficult to find each other because, to some degree, we’re all still scared, even those of us who are out. Family and friends may accept us for who we are, but, as a rule, we keep to ourselves because we’re not sure how the world in general will receive us. I especially think about those gay and lesbian people in small communities, where there are few if any places for them to go to meet, to be in each other’s company. When more of us come out, more of us are available to connect, to befriend each other, and to show our love and support.

Which returns me to why we need you. We, the gay and lesbian community, need you because we’re still at war, if you want to look at it that way. The war we continue to fight every day is for legitimacy, for dignity, and for respect. It’s for our human rights--to love who we want to love, to be protected equally under the law, and to have the right to marry our same-sex partners. Each of us is a potential soldier in that war, yet most are not on active duty. Most of us fight from the sidelines, give moral support, cheer the rest of us on from safe places. That’s all they can do because they’re closeted, because they still live in fear, remain in hiding.

When you come out, you join the ranks of all those who came before you, who had the courage to be who and what they were, and, in some cases, to take up political causes and fight vigorously on our behalf. (We didn’t get to where we are today because all of our predecessors stayed in the closet.) But, even if you’re not political or an active warrior, you still help fight the war with the rest of us when you come out, by being visible within your own sphere of influence, by being yourself, and by being an example for other gay people and for the mainstream community of what we’re about, what’s important and not important to us, and what we’re here to do.

And that brings me to why the world needs you. The world needs you to come out because you have talents, abilities, and gifts to offer, unique to you and you alone. The world does not need these talents, abilities, and gifts compromised in any way because you can’t accept yourself as the gay or lesbian person you are, because you’re still hiding in the closet. Life is about going big or going home. There’s no room for half-baked efforts grounded in self-loathing and fear. You need to give it all you’ve got, and the only way you can do that is to get over being gay or lesbian and to get on with the job of living your life to the fullest extent.

So, yes, those of us who are out know what you’re going through. We know how difficult making peace with what you are is because we’ve all been there. And we recognize you need the time and the space to do your thing. That’s why we’ll wait for you. We'll wait for you because we need you. Because there’s work to be done, a lot of work. And because there's a war to be won. And because there’s a world out there that not only wants all of you and everything you have to offer, but also needs you, fully and completely, to help improve the mess we’re in as a human race, and to do it with style and grace and fortitude.

Coming Out Month: Thought for the Day, #37

2011-10-05T13:38:00.000-07:00

It is healthy for an adult to come out in all areas of his life, including to important straight people, in order to provide continuity between his internal, private life and his external, social life. Coming out alleviates the anxiety and depression caused by the sense of inauthenticity that arises from hiding or disguising oneself. Closeted gay men are usually cautious and circumspect in their social discourse and relationships. After coming out, they inevitably affirm they are now more self-assured and that all relationships, including those with straight people, are more authentic and, therefore, more gratifying.

(From Becoming Gay: The Journey to Self-Acceptance, by Richard A. Isay. M.D., p. 8.)

Coming Out Month: My Coming Out Story (Reprise)

2011-10-04T13:06:00.000-07:00

This post first appeared here on September 17, 2009. In keeping with the Coming Out Month theme this October, on "This Gay Relationship," I thought I'd return to it, (as it turns out) edit the hell out of it, and present it once again.

If you have yet to come out, I hope my story inspires you and gives you strength. If you have come out of the closet, and want to share your story to help my readers on their own journeys, please email me by clicking on Send Mail at the top right hand side.

I was invited to attend a New Year's Eve dance to be held on December 31, 1985. The person who invited me was a customer of the branch where I worked at the time--a tall, huge man, with a face like Shrek and an ironic name. Tiny. Yet, despite his intimidating (even frightening) size and appearance, Tiny was sweet, gentle, and endearing. Over time, I came to trust him. Without question, he sensed how tough the struggle to accept myself as a gay man had been.

For many weeks, Tiny kept working on me, extending the same invitation over and over. And, consistently, I refused. One of my colleagues, Sue, whom I'd told I was gay, was on Tiny's side. I'd confided in her how difficult being gay was. So, every time Tiny came in the branch and tried to cajole me into attending, Sue supported him. "You should go," she'd say. "What do you have to lose?" Thankfully, they both persisted. Who knows where I'd be today if they hadn't?

The night of the dance, I was scared shitless. The idea of two men dancing together, something I'd never seen before, made me uneasy. I was convinced I'd see a freak show when I walked into the room. Creepy, older, gay men, some of whom had come on to me over the years, would be there and approach me. Open sex would be going on everywhere, and I'd be attacked and sexually assaulted. Obviously, I didn't have a high opinion of gay people in general and gay men in particular.

I'm pleased to report nothing my wild imagination invented beforehand actually happened. I arrived at the makeshift dancehall before everyone else, except for the bartender, Ross. My interest was piqued the minute I walked in and saw him. Ross couldn't have been more different from what I expected to see. Not only was he young, but also he was cuter than hell. I hoped I'd have the chance to meet him during the evening and get to know him better (alas, Ross was already partnered).

Over the next hours, several customers I knew from the bank showed up, confirming, in some cases, suspicions I'd had they were gay, too, and, in others, shocking the hell out of and embarrassing me. I'm not sure who was more uncomfortable--them, when they saw the teller from the bank who processed their transactions, or me, because I'd have to serve them again in the future, and pretend like we'd had no contact with each other at a local New Year's Eve gay dance.

The music was exactly the kind I loved and couldn't sit still to. Many of the tunes I owned copies of in my own record collection, and many others instantly appealed to me because of their persistent beat and catchy melodies. I was scared to death someone would ask me to dance, but, the way I was bopping around, I guess it was only a matter of time before someone would. One thing was for sure: watching two men dance together became not only natural but fun, and I began to breath a little easier.

I met the most amazing young man that night, who told me he was from Vancouver, which sounded exotic. I have no recollection of his name, but he sure was attractive and into me. We spent a good portion of the evening together, dancing almost non-stop. Occasionally, we took a breather, returning to our seats and yelling at each other over the blaring music. I'm sure the opportunity was there for me to take him home at the end of the night, but, gratefully, the subject never came up.

The following day, I was invited to a family New Year's dinner at my aunt and uncle's, and, when I told my mother I'd gone out to celebrate the turn of the year at a dance, rather than stay home as usual and watch Dick Clark's "New Years Rockin' Eve," she was surprised. But I couldn't give her any details about where I'd gone or what had happened, not while everyone was able to overhear our conversation. So I told her if she was interested to give me a call after we both returned home.

I was on a natural high following my experience at the dance. For the first time ever, I didn't feel as negative about being gay. The people I'd seen or met were not the freaks I'd thought they would be. In fact, they were regular, everyday folks just like me, and, thrilled with how the evening had gone, I left the dance in the early hours, thinking it might just be all right to be gay after all. Perhaps my future wouldn't be as bleak as I'd always expected it would be.

Feeling emboldened, I moved headlong into telling my mother, the most important person in my life, the one whose love I valued and needed the most, that her son was gay. As much as possible, I tried to steer her to that realization. I did everything I could to get her to say the word so I didn't have to, including telling her I'd gone to a place where gay people were. I prayed she'd say something like, "So, you're gay then?" Instead, she said, "Why did you go there?" She wasn't making this easy for me.

I hemmed and hawed for a long time, trying to draw from her what I couldn't say myself. But she didn't budge. It's like the thought was completely beyond her. Finally, I blurted it out. "Mom, I'm gay." The word I loathed caught in my throat. It sounded so leaden, so consequential, so final. Once uttered, it's impossible to take back. The tone of my voice was impatient, as if to ask, how could you not get this? I gave you all the hints I could. Why did you make me say the word?

"Oh, Ricky," my mother whispered, finally. She began to cry. As a kid, watching my mother cry was one of the most difficult things for me. I'd seen it happen many times when I was growing up. My mother spent most of my early childhood alone with me and my sister, waiting for her husband to return from work, from being out with friends, from drinking at the Legion. I swore I'd never hurt her, or make her cry, the way my father had. But, here I was, doing exactly what I said I wouldn't.

"Didn't you know?" I asked her then, all the positive feelings from the night before draining from my body, desperate for her to say she'd had her suspicions over the years. It's not that I'd never given her or my father any clues--as a boy, I'd played with dolls, gravitated to my mother in the kitchen rather than my father in the living room, never dated a single girl, couldn't play sports, wore the latest fashions and hair styles, had effeminate mannerisms, and spoke in an affected way. How could she not know?

"No," my mother answered, "I didn't know. I had no idea." Even more upset now, she cautioned me between sobs not to say anything to my father; she didn't know how he'd react to the news that his only son was gay. As it turned out, I didn't have to say anything to him. Over the next several days, my mother was so upset that my father asked her repeatedly what was wrong. Finally, she told him. When I asked her what he'd said, she told me his response was, "At least he's not in trouble with the law."

It's no overstatement to say that, at the time, I thought the world as I'd known it was over. When I got off the phone from talking with my mother, I was as upset as I'd ever been. I was certain my relationship with her would never be the same. In tears myself, I turned to the only person I could: Tiny. He'd given me his phone number prior to the dance, just in case I needed to talk to someone. Gratefully, he was available to support me while I went through the most difficult time of my life.

In the end, my family didn't turn their backs on, reject, or disown me--by this time, my mother had told my aunt (her sister) and my grandmother (her mother)--although some time passed before I felt welcome to return home for our usual Sunday dinner. In retrospect, I'm stunned at how quickly, relatively speaking, my parents assimilated the news about my sexual orientation. I'd struggled with it for years; in a matter of weeks, circumstances between us felt like they might get back to normal.

But I don't want to paint a completely rosy picture. For some time after my parents knew, I felt ashamed around them. I couldn't help but think I was a disappointment. At the time, there was no hope of me being a father, so I thought they were concerned the family name would end with me. Plus, while my mother and I became increasingly comfortable talking about my homosexuality--even going into detail about my first lover, Adrian--my father and I didn't bring it up until over twenty years later.

For some time after I came out, I treaded carefully around my parents. I always wondered what they thought of me now that they knew, if they saw me the same way. I also worried I might antagonize them in some way, and they'd use my being gay against me, making me feel worse than I already did. But that never happened. If anything, I think we were more careful around each other. I believe they knew how difficult coming out had been for me and, in their own ways, wanted to show support.

Over the following months and years, I learned the coming out process never ends. Some time after my parents knew, I had to consider how to tell my sister, who was half way around the world in Saudi Arabia, on a two-year work program at the hospital there. While I could have told her over the phone, I decided to write a letter instead, partly because telephone conversations were difficult with signal delays, and partly because I thought she would not have as much difficulty with the news.

Oddly, her reaction was not at all what I expected. When I didn't receive a return letter within a reasonable period, I suspected something was up. So, early one morning before work, I called her on the phone and was greeted by anger. My sister wasn't angry that I was gay, or that I'd written to tell her that. Rather, she was angry my revelation had upset our mother. My sister didn't want our mother to be hurt anymore than I did. In time, though, she came to accept me as everyone did.

Coming Out Month: "Yes, I Still Love You"

2011-10-03T11:33:00.000-07:00

"Yes, I still love you."

Can there be five words any gay person needs to hear more from his parents and loved ones upon telling them he's gay?

As part of "Coming Out Month" on "This Gay Relationship," I want to share the video below with you to prove not only how difficult coming out is, but also how liberating.

If you are a gay person, you will experience few other events in your life more frightening, but I urge you to remain focused on the end result. Coming out is not just about revealing yourself as the gay person you are; it's also about setting yourself free after years, or even decades, of being imprisoned within your body and mind. No one can live like that forever. All of us are entitled to be who we were meant to be.

The young man in the video is U.S. Airman 1st Class Randy Phillips, who is just twenty-one years old. According to Advocate.com, he is currently stationed at Ramstein Air Base in Germany and has been away from home for almost a year.

In the video, Phillips comes out to his father, who lives in Alabama. The video is part of a series he recorded on YouTube on the AreYouSurprised, to visually document each step of his coming out process, in anticipation of the September 20, 2011, repeal of the "don't ask, don't tell" policy in the U.S. military. A short time after Randy came out to his father, he called his mother and did the same.

Make no mistake, this is one brave young man. Not only is coming out difficult enough as it is, but to set up a camera, record what happened live, and make it available to the world puts Randy in a class all his own. I don't doubt for a minute his videos will embolden a good many young gay and lesbian people to follow his lead. What an example he is to all of us.

Although my own coming out story happened decades ago, watching Randy brought me back to that day, reminding me of the nervousness and trepidation I felt. I know what this young man went through. None of us should have to face the possibility of losing loved ones because of who we are. His apprehension and hopefulness are palpable, but so are his relief and joy when it's all over.

Are you this courageous?

To see the entire video of Randy coming out to his father, please click here.

To see the video of Randy coming out to his mother, please click here.

October is Coming Out Month at "This Gay Relationship"

2011-10-01T08:01:00.000-07:00

Logo designed by Keith Haring

According to Wikipedia, "National Coming Out Day (NCOD) is an internationally observed civil awareness day for coming out and discussion about gays, lesbians, bisexuals, [and] transgender people (LGBT).... It is observed by members of the LGBT communities and supporters (often referred to as "allies") on October 11 every year, or October 12 in the U.K."

But here, at "This Gay Relationship," for the first year ever, I've designated this October as Coming Out Month. While the occasional post may appear having little to do with coming out, the majority will be related in some way to arguably the most difficult and liberating experience in every gay person's life. Each post will begin with the logo, so just look for that.

I have amazing ideas of things I want to share with you, under the theme of Coming Out Month, so I sincerely hope you'll keep checking back to take part in what's going on. And if, as is the case with many of my readers, you have yet to come out, my intention with these posts is give you some things to think about and tools to use on your own journey to freedom.

As always, I look forward to hearing from you. If you have a coming out story to share, or if you have a question about coming out, please leave a comment or send me an email. Hopefully, with this series, if you're not out yet, you'll feel empowered to burst your closet door wide open (just like in the logo) and begin to live your life as an authentic gay or lesbian person.

Let's get started.

(This series is dedicated to Elevencats in Estonia, and to all gay men and lesbian women who will one day come out.)

In Tribute

2011-09-29T16:43:00.000-07:00

I must share this with you. It's extraordinarily beautiful. Please be sure to watch until the very end.

You Were Born to Love (Guest Post)

2011-09-26T15:40:00.000-07:00

Dear Readers,

A little background. In July of this year, Donna Smaldone, whom I met when she responded to a post, and I became friends, even though I live in Metro Vancouver, she lives in New York State, and we've never met in person. You could say our spirits connected across the miles, because we get each other and what each of us is individually trying to do with his and her blog.

That same month, Donna invited me to guest blog on her website, "Donna Smaldone: Welcome to The You Evolution," which came as a pleasant surprise. She'd already written Parts One and Two of a series titled "When being gay isn't always so gay," and she entrusted me to complete the third and final part. I was thrilled and jumped at the opportunity. If you haven't read what I wrote, and if you'd like to read all of the series, please click here.

Then, in August, Donna prepared a video post on her site called "What exactly IS The You Evolution?" As I watched her explain, I saw how what she said applied not only to straight people but also to gay and lesbian people. That got me thinking I should ask Donna to guest blog for me, to share with you details about how The You Evolution applies to you, but I didn't get the courage to ask her until recently. (To see the video post, please click here.)

Donna is a vivacious, positive, and uplifting human being, and it gives me great pleasure to share her guest post with you. I hope you agree that what she has to say is both powerful and empowering. At the end of the post, you'll find a direct link to Donna's website. I invite you to be a part of what she has to say about being the best you you can be, both as an individual and in your relationships.
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You Were Born to Love

You were born to love and to love fully. So why should itmatter who you were born to love?

It shouldn’t.

I do not pretend to understand the trials, wounds, andjudgments so many gay people have endured for loving who they love. As astraight woman, I admit there’s a certain luxury in being a heterosexual – and knowingmy friends can’t enjoy that same luxury breaks my heart.

I’ve known my friend De since we were children. Although legally blind, she capturesthe essence of life in the most beautiful photographs. She’s an artist, a NewEngland Patriots fan, and an unapologetically overindulgent Mama to pup “Juno”. De has a heart bigger than most and loves wholly and unconditionally. Oh, andher partner of twelve years is a woman.

De will tell you she’s never fully identified with labels—‘lesbian’included. She’s merely succumbedto society’s need to paste it on her forehead. De once queried, “Why can’t I just be a woman who happenedto fall in love with another woman?”

Love is love. Period. Unfortunately, people have become masters ofcondemnation of things they don't struggle or identify with themselves.

God’s not disappointed in us for loving who we love, man orwoman. He’s disappointed in the disdain and disrespect we’ve adopted to passjudgment on how others love.

Friends, your love isnot wrong. Your love matters. YOU matter.

In the beautiful uniqueness that is YOU, you’ve been given apurpose. There is NO ONE else on this earth who has been given the same purposeas you. Being gay does not negate this fact. If you aren’t embracing theuniqueness that is YOURS, not only are you missing out – but your friends,family members, neighbors, and co-workers are also missing out.

Embrace yourindividuality.

Everything that has happened in your life up to this pointhas played a role in your You Evolution™. Every smile, every kiss, everyargument, every mistake. Everygood, every bad, every one. Without even one of those things,events, or people – you would not be fully you.

Don’t give up on yourself. Don’t give up on your self. Gay or straight – it makes nodifference – there is NO other like you. You are special. You are precious. You are beautiful. And in noway are you a mistake.

Like so many of you, I am honored to have Rick Modien in my life. He andI have yet to meet face-to-face, but our souls are connected across this greatcontinent. Rick’s mission, to elevate the experience of being gay throughunderstanding, accepting, and loving yourself, parallels my goal in The YouEvolution™.

My hope through The You Evolution™ is tochallenge YOU to embrace your own unique, personal journey so you maycontagiously enjoy community and relationship with others. Thank you to Rickand to each of you for allowing me to be part of your journey.

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To access "Donna Smaldone: Welcome to The You Evolution," please click on the logo or here.

Thought for the Day, #36

2011-09-26T12:35:00.000-07:00

I am a man who loves men, and I am proud to wear that uniform and fight for things like gay marriage, but I also look forward to the day when I can take that uniform off, and just be me, a human being not defined by sexuality and religion.... I would like for there to be a day when all kids grow up in a world in which they will not be judged negatively based on who they fall in love with. This day is coming, faster than anyone expected....

And:

Falling in love will not send you to hell. Love is beautiful. You are beautiful. Sex with someone you love is always beautiful.

Both quotes are from Randy Roberts Potts, gay grandson of infamous televangelist Oral Roberts. In 1982, Ronnie Roberts, Randy's uncle and Oral Roberts's son, committed suicide after coming out. Randy was profoundly affected by his uncle's death and now travels throughout the United States trying to undo the damage his grandfather did.

For more information, please click here.

Check out Randy's website here.

Stop the Insanity

2011-09-23T16:09:00.000-07:00

It happened again.

This past Monday, September 19, another American teenager committed suicide because he was bullied for being gay. His name was Jamey Rodemeyer, he lived in Baffalo, New York, and he was just fourteen years old.

According to news reports, Jamey came out in May of this year, and the experience was so positive for him, so filled with love and support from friends, that, ironically, he made his own video to tell other gay teens it really does get better.

In part, here's what Jamey said in his video:

You were born this way. All you have to do is hold your head up and you will go far. Because that's all you have to do. Just love yourself and you're set. And I promise you, it will get better.

So what happened between the time Jamey made this video and the day he died for nothing? His parents know he was bullied not only at school but online as well. By insensitive shitheads who must be held accountable for his senseless death. Jamey's case is under investigation. Let's hope justice is served.

When will the insanity stop?

When will we stop losing precious lives just because they're gay?

What can each of us do to ensure this doesn't happen again?

Speak up.

Play your part.

Resources:

www.itgetsbetter.org

www.makeitbetterproject.org

www.facebook.com/stopbullyingspeakup