Faggotry: Why do gay men make it difficult to be a gay man...

Everyone likes to look at beautiful things.  There is nothing wrong with that.  In gay society beauty seems a prerequisite.  But much like everything else, when excess exists, it can be quite a bane.  This concept is so ingrained that it is mentally debilitating to those that do not place themselves in the mold of beauty.  Those who do not think of themselves as beautiful, have quite the hurdle to jump.

 

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. There are so many forms that people find attractive. Even under those headings are many subheadings. For instance, I have a friend that likes bears… but not all bears… just the muscle bears, otters, and polar bears. I have other friends that like daddies, or chubs, or twinks. To each; their own! It is often hard to remember this when talking to our friends, and our friend says ohhh he is hot, and we look over and think… ummm not at all. We all have very different tastes. Can’t we agree to let people be attracted to what they want, even if we don’t share their opinion? Do we have to voice our opinion that their taste does not match our own? Really our friends think they know what we are attracted to already.

Diagram of common gay 'types'

  

We as gay men denigrate ourselves.  What sense does this make?  We denounce ourselves.  We have our own diction, Twink, Bear, Bottom, Daddy, Hawk.  These are all terms that I have heard used both positively and quite negatively.  These terms have been used with such disdain at times that I cringe.  They are just words, but they are empowered by their speaker.  Any of them can be praise, description, or insult given the tone, and general usage. 

 I do not understand why we as a community try to make others of our community feel bad about their personal views / lifestyle.  I would think we would be open to all lifestyles.  Instead I see songs like “This boy is a bottom” (which I do not condone, so I will not post a link to) or hear people talking about those two went home together, but they are both bottoms, so you know it was just angry scissoring.  Of course... then I imagine two men acting like angry cats in heat, spluttering, and aggressively rubbing their naked asses on one another, while growling, and neither being satisfied.  I am faced with such prejudice each time I turn around.  I know several gay racists, gynephobes, heterophobes, Republican-phobes, Christian-phobes, etc…  It just goes on and on.

When you take the stereotypical competitive aspect of men, and blend it with the stereotypical cattiness of women, you get a heinous thing indeed.  You get a stereotypical gay man.  When he sees competition for his prospective target one of two things happens.  He judges himself inferior to the competition and bows out of the contest, not necessarily gracefully.  Or he decides to ensure that this upstart will not win at any cost. 

Claws are sharpened, teeth are bared, and no holds are barred.  On one hand, it is more civilized than a physical confrontation, but the fact that it is filled with subversive commentary makes it far worse.  Rather than physically proving dominance, attacks are made at the psyche of the competition.  We all know emotional scars take much longer to heal.  It seems that the goal is to get the competition to believe that he is inferior and back off, as opposed to getting the target to believe that you are the superior choice.  It is a lot easier to make your competitor feel bad about them self, than it is to make your target see how great you are.  Again, I am not free of this activity.  I have often caught myself critiquing other people in order to feel superior. 

How can we turn this around?  How can we lift each other up, and be stronger as a community?  How can we support our brethren in their life choices while maintaining the integrity of our own?  How can we break through the stereotypes, and be a people?  How can we break the shame cycles, and cycles of abuse?

Guilting the Lily

Guilt is a cognitive or an emotional experience that occurs when a person realizes or believes—accurately or not—that he or she has compromised his or her own standards of conduct or has violated a moral standard, and bears significant responsibility for that violation.

 Things that make us feel guilt:

• Lying
• Flaking (Though apparently Seattleites are naturally immune to this one)
• Our Bodies
• Health
• Wealth or lack there of
• Family
• Friends
• Privilege
• Race
• Gender
• Other

Each of these things at one point or another has caused those pangs of guilt to rise up in me.  Sometimes I quell those pangs with defiance and anger, and sometimes the pangs get to hang out for a while until something shiny distracts me.

 It is such an odd sensation when you are talking to someone and all of a sudden you realize that you are feeling guilty for something that you have not intentionally done.  Typically this is unintentional on the part of the other party as well.  Yet here you are feeling guilty for being born a certain way, or for having a loving family, or for having a stable job.  Usually this passes.  Sometimes it doesn’t and you grow to resent this person that always arouses feelings of guilt for being who you are.

 Other times we earn our guilt.  We lie to a friend about a prior engagement when really it is something we would rather do.  We assume that our little white lie (why’s it gotta be a white thing?) will somehow hurt their feelings less than the truth.  Then all of a sudden they are behind you in line at the bar…  Your stomach sinks…  You want to hide…  Instead you offer to buy them a drink (cursing under your breath that it is one less that you can have that night, because now you have to pay for one for them, and really why did they have to schedule their fucking birthday on the same night as the underwear party that you HAD to go to, and even though you could have made it to their dinner and still had plenty of time to make it to the underwear party, you didn’t want to have a heavy dinner and then run around half nekkid, so it is their fault that you had to lie to them anyway…) to help assuage your guilt.

 Not only do we have the pleasure of dealing with our own guilt… We also like to share guilt.  This usually takes the form of shaming people.

 

• Can you believe her?  She has no shame.
• He just shamelessly cruised that guy.

We make these statements judgmentally. Why?

Why should we have shame when it comes to attraction.  Really it only gets in our way, and why is it there?  What purpose does it serve?  Is there something wrong with being interested or attracted?

Of course there isn't. But there is a self-imposed sense of propriety that is a convenient mask for guilt. The guilt associated with sex and sexuality.

What is wrong with expressing interest... With showing desire? Nothing!

I leave my shame at home.  Really there was no room for it in my outfits.

“Funny thing about guilt: There's nothing so bad that you can't add a little guilt to it and make it worse; and there's nothing so good you can't add guilt to it and make it better.”

- Latter Days

 

As Latter Days eloquently reminds us… Guilt isn’t always bad.  I mean there is always Guilty Pleasures.  That glorious feeling you get when you are doing something wrong that is oh so right.  You know what I am talking about

• Public Sex
• Free Balling/Lipping
• Telling children that Santa isn’t real.
• Eating a glob of mayo out of the jar with your finger.
• Reading the Missed Connections on Craigslist

I mean…  It is awesome to waste an afternoon at home even though you should be productive.  It is even better to do it in your underwear…

while eating a pizza…

and a pint of Ben & Jerry’s…

            and sexting an ex that you no longer care about…

                        and listening to Call Me Maybe

or your Spice Girls album.

I had a galfriend while I was in the Navy that would always wear sexy lingerie under her uniforms.  It helped her feel like a woman, and also it felt a little naughty to her.  I also had a guyfriend that wore panties under his boxers in the navy.  I always kept my toenails painted in uniform.  I still do, but it is much less of a statement now.

These little acts of social defiance are all guilty pleasures.  Taking things we are supposed to feel bad about, and turning them into a thing of joy.  Each of these is a personal victory over the human condition, and a step in the right direction toward true self acceptance, and love.

What about you?  What are your guilty pleasures?  Leave me a comment and let me know.

Nothing Tastes as Good as Skinny Feels…

This is one of the most disgusting phrases I have ever heard.  I once heard a mother say this to her daughter.  I also have friends who have told me their parents told them this.  On the rational side of my mind, I know that some of these parents are trying to protect their children from the cruelties of a fat-shaming society.  I get that.  Other parents are just participating in the fat-shaming model.  I don’t get that.

I was very lucky.  My mother was amazing, something I often forget to tell her, and as such I hope she reads this entry.  She accepted me.  She instilled in me the tools that she felt I would need to make it through life, and then let me figure out how best I could use them.

In my early 20’s I was living in San Diego.  The vibe I got there was that if you were not size 2, blonde, hairless, masculine and tan; then you were not worth shit.  Well, I was a bulky, brunette, hairy, sassy, pale guy.  I allowed the culture to make me feel like I was a beast.  I felt undesirable and unlovable.  More so, I felt like I was unworthy of desire or love.  When someone would flirt with me, I thought it was some sort of cruel joke, and that it would end up as a scene from Carrie, with a bucket of pigs blood dropping from the rafters.  I did the best I could to bury all of those feelings, and hold my head high.

Then I decided to make a change.  I hired a personal trainer 4 days a week (at 50$ a session). I took supplements, vitamins, and meal replacement shakes.  I ate a chicken boob, and a cup of spinach leaves for lunch and dinner.  I went tanning 3 times a week.  I dyed my hair blonde.  I got waxed every 3 weeks on the dot.  I did all of this to feel accepted.  It didn’t work.

Eventually, I let all of that slip away, and just stopped trying to fit in.  I was much happier, but still felt like I was somehow less than human.

I moved to Seattle in September of 2006, and my story takes a little turn here.  The average build in Seattle and the PNW in general is a little heavier than southern California.  People up here have facial hair, and body hair.  There is no sun up here, so most of us are pale.  I remember being at a bar with my dear friend JJ, and some guy walked by me and woofed at me.  I was appalled.  JJ calmed me and explained that it was the way some people appreciate sexiness.  I was confused by these strange new customs.  Moreover I was confused that someone thought I was attractive.

I joined the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence in August of 2008.  I was still ridiculously body conscious and shy.  I would not leave the house without being in an undershirt and an over shirt.  My sponsor sister Isabella Ringing and my big sister Edith Moorecock were instrumental in breaking down my barriers here.  They were both very racy in their dress, which I admire.  They kept telling me to raise my hemline.  My response was that no one wants to see that.  Isabella told me that I have no right to decide what other people want to see.  Brilliant! 

It was still much later at Sister Karma Za Betch’s (may she rest in peace) novice project that I finally broke through my fear of self.  I wore a fishnet shirt, and fishnet pair of square cut underwear with thigh high boots.  I was terrified.  TERRIFIED! 

I hid it well and strode with pride.  I passed this pair of guys who were standing off by a wall.  One of them said ‘Wow, I didn’t need to see that.’  I was mortified, but anger took over.  I turned on my heel, and in Novice Sister regalia addressed him directly.  I said “Well then, maybe you should avert your eyes.  And where in the fuck do you get off trying to make someone feel bad about their body?  The day you have the confidence in your body to walk around in the outfit I am wearing, come talk to me.  Until then, keep your snide comments to yourself.”  I then turned on my heel and walked away.

From that point on I have made it a point to dress risqué as a Sister.  I still had body issues, but I would not let them show.  I was proudly showing off my body to let other people know it was okay to show off theirs.  It was my hope that my confidence would inspire others to be more confident in their own skin.

Since then, I have also done burlesque here and there to great appreciation, and I started studying bellydancing.  In those costumes I reveal proudly my most troubling of areas, and I flaunt, shake, jiggle, shimmy and shiver it.

I still do not have the body that I want, and I am working on that for myself.  However, I no longer feel like a beast.  I feel like an empowered person.  I am utterly comfortable in my skin.  I still sometimes have the crazy voice chime in when people are hitting on me, but it is very quiet and seldom actually impacts my life.  Maybe someday I will allow someone to love me.  One step at a time.

Sons of Trimurti

This is my first post, so I figure I should tell you a little bit about myself.  I have way too many labels that can be attached to me to sit here and write them all out.  For now I will say I am a proud gay man, a Tribal Bellydancer (and teacher), and a Sister of Perpetual Indulgence.  (I keep myself very busy.)

 

The Bellydance community in the US is female dominated. Partly as a way to promote female empowerment, and to allow women to be present in their bodies in an environment free of shame, and the lasciviousness of men. Don't get me wrong, I am not saying that women can not be lascivious, or that all males are base creatures incapable of controlling their instincts/hormones. I am saying that this was the case. Personally I looked for years to find a bellydance teacher that would accept a male student. I even had a prospective teacher physically laugh and hang up the phone on me. I kept at it though, and finally found one, and then several others. Now a few years later, I am a certified instructor myself.

I find that the overall attitudes are changing. My dance sisters are more and more accepting. A few might be hesitant to dance with a guy, but most are more curious than concerned. It quickly becomes obvious to people that I am interested in the dance, and not some sort of exxxtracurriculars if you catch my drift. Truly, the fun shift now is when my non-dance contemporaries hear that I am a Bellydancer... They must imagine me in some bond girl inspired cabaret outfit, and what an image that would be covering my frame. Sometimes, I ease their minds, and explain what I actually do. Sometimes, I can't be bothered.

 

This weekend was Cues and Tattoos, an annual tribal bellydance festival in Seattle. I had the pleasure of dancing with 3 other male ATS Dancers. I believe it is the first time in the country that a quartet of male ATS dancers have performed together. The performance brought members of the audience to tears. It really was momentous. 

 

 (video link http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=439429776141300.)

 

We called ourselves The Sons of Trimurti.  The Trimurti is the hindi triune god form comprised of Brahma, Shiva, and Vishnu, or the divine male energy.  Our goal was to embody the power of the male form blended with the grace and elegance of ATS.  I think we did a pretty good job of it.  This performance could be a herald of great things to come.  I was given a challenge to continue on this path I have claimed for myself, and to see where it leads.  I accept that challenge willingly, and look forward to its twists and turns.