A year ago I had my first gay encounter.
It wasn't sexual, it wasn't even really friendly, but we both felt it and it affirmed the fear within me that I had no idea what I was doing.
We were out in a university town, my friends and I from home guests of a few friends who had gone to this school. I couldn't get over how differently they socialized compared to other schools; here it felt almost like the American college system. The group of friends, 25 of them, were inseparable. They lived together, had class together, went to the bars together...it was nice.
New Years Eve saw us entering one of the 'fancier' bars, the foreign guests and the locals mixing together to celebrate the new year. I was with a few of my closest friends, so that was really all that mattered to me, and quite drunk by the time the dancing started. I think I was even having fun.
He had crossed my field of vision a few times through the night, talking to some of the people in our party but never speaking to me directly. I didn't even know his name, only that he was a friend of one of their group, along for the festivities.
Something inside me pulled me to him, unlike anything I had experienced before. I just knew he was gay. No reason why, and he certainly was very 'straight acting', especially in this small-town homophobe crowd. It was so peculiar to me, to feel this 6th sense somewhere in the back of my mind shouting that I should do something with this guy.
For me, it was bizarre. Remember, this was roughly a week after I'd started this blog, and I was just beginning to understand the idea of what being gay meant and that I really wanted to pursue my attraction to men. And there I was, overstimulated and wondering what to do next.
He passed in front of me a few times through the evening, never really speaking or even seeing me, but each time he did I wondered what move I should make next. How could I get his attention, signal to him that I knew?
Midnight was fast approaching, only minutes away, when I noticed him sitting on the sidelines with a few other people, not really talking. I was there alone that night, and it seemed like he was as well, other happy couples bouncing around him. This was it.
I walked over to him, and he looked up at me. I can still remember the look in his eyes, that glance of confusion at first, but ultimately of some unspoken understanding.
"Hey, what are you doing sitting down," I asked. "It's almost midnight. You should be up here," I said, motioning towards the dance floor.
He gave me a bit of a smile, and awkwardly rose to his feet. We walked the few steps to the edge of the floor, as the countdown approached...10, 9, 8...
I looked behind me. He was standing there. Now what do I do?
...7, 6, 5...
In front of me, a friend was standing, shouting out the numbers with the crowd. I joined in, unable to do much else.
...4, 3, 2...
As the numbers came to a close, I shot a glance behind me, to see the boy walking back towards the sidelines. I guess it was a...
...1...
...failure. My friend reached out and grabbed me in a hug, screaming happy new year in my ear while I put the previous moments events to the back of my mind and sipped on my drink, welcoming 2007.
Of course, looking back at it now, it was an interesting and funny experience. I can laugh now, because when I think about it, what exactly was I going to do? Start making out with a guy, surrounded by my friends who thought I was straight in a homophobic college town bar at midnight on New Years? Would I sneak him down a back alley and blow him? Would he grab my hand and hold it as the streamers fell from the ceiling? Hardly.
It's funny that it happened. I hadn't really thought about it much until a little while ago, when we were again planning our celebration for the year. But in some way, I guess it was another step in the journey.
Tonight I'll be in Toronto, surrounded by friends. When midnight comes, I'm going to be alone again, a little anxious of what to do with myself while couples all around me embrace and probe each others mouths for leftover bits of hors douvres. I'm not crazy about going out with a group of almost exclusively all couples...except for the other two single guys who are coming along. But they have a nasty habit of picking up single women when out at bars, so I don't think we'll have a good shot at standing awkwardly together.
In the off chance that some guy sets off my gaydar, and is standing awkwardly himself at the dawn of the new year, I think I just may know better than last year how to handle the situation.
To all of you I wish the very best for health, happiness and love in 2008. The new year really can be a clean slate, and no matter if the changes you wish to make are small or big, I hope you find a way to make your dreams come true.
Monday, December 31, 2007
Friday, December 28, 2007
Turned tables...
You've probably noticed the poll's I've conducted, on the right of your screen.
I was curious a little while back about who exactly was walking through my door. After all, this is the anonymous Internet, and site counters don't keep track of if you're a bisexual 30-something who likes reading about my comical stabs at being gay...
So I drafted up the two polls to try and "capture the snapshot," if you will, of who all is reading. Here's what I've found:
Ages -
Under 29: 31 (60%)
30-45: 12 (23%)
46-60: 7 (13%)
60+: 1 (1%)
Orientations -
Gay Male: 50 (63%)
Bi/Pansexual Male: 10 (12%)
Questioning/Curious Male: 6 (7%)
Straight Male: 5 (6%)
Lesbian Female: 1 (1%)
Bi/Pansexual Female: 0
Straight Female: 3 (3%)
None of the Above: 4 (4%)
First off, I appologize to anyone who was offended by any of the categories. As for age, yeah, I know I'm lumping a lot of different groups pretty close together, but I was just looking for a general trend. In terms of orientations, I realize I didn't put any options for Trans people, or people with undefined sexualities. I'm sorry.
So, not surprisingly, you guys are mostly under 30 gay men. But it's interesting to note that people of all ages are reading, and I think it's really amazing that anyone over my age is reading...I hope that means I'm hitting on some universal topics that are of interest to everyone.
But, like any good researcher, I'm more interested in the outlyer results. I'm a little surprised that so few straight women are reading...I guess that's a general stereotype that women are interested in the lives of gay men. I couldn't seem to get women interested in my back in High School...and it seems that hasn't changed! Though I mind a hell of a lot less...
To all the questioning/curious guys reading, I hope some of the things I've written have been a help in trying to figure yourself out. I'd suggest going back and checking some of the really old entries to see where I was coming from, and how things developed. And of course, I wish you all the best of luck in your own journey.
What amazed me the most was that 5 STRAIGHT males are reading! Guys, that's amazing. You're all a rare breed, and I'm so impressed that you've taken the time to read about things you may not want to hear about... Really, you people, whoever you are, are an inspiration and I hope the rest of the world catches up to your attitude and acceptance of us ominous 'others'.
So there you have it, a brief look at your fellow readers! Another obvious question would be, "Are you out?" but maybe I'll save that for another time.
Until then, thanks for voting.
I was curious a little while back about who exactly was walking through my door. After all, this is the anonymous Internet, and site counters don't keep track of if you're a bisexual 30-something who likes reading about my comical stabs at being gay...
So I drafted up the two polls to try and "capture the snapshot," if you will, of who all is reading. Here's what I've found:
Ages -
Under 29: 31 (60%)
30-45: 12 (23%)
46-60: 7 (13%)
60+: 1 (1%)
Orientations -
Gay Male: 50 (63%)
Bi/Pansexual Male: 10 (12%)
Questioning/Curious Male: 6 (7%)
Straight Male: 5 (6%)
Lesbian Female: 1 (1%)
Bi/Pansexual Female: 0
Straight Female: 3 (3%)
None of the Above: 4 (4%)
First off, I appologize to anyone who was offended by any of the categories. As for age, yeah, I know I'm lumping a lot of different groups pretty close together, but I was just looking for a general trend. In terms of orientations, I realize I didn't put any options for Trans people, or people with undefined sexualities. I'm sorry.
So, not surprisingly, you guys are mostly under 30 gay men. But it's interesting to note that people of all ages are reading, and I think it's really amazing that anyone over my age is reading...I hope that means I'm hitting on some universal topics that are of interest to everyone.
But, like any good researcher, I'm more interested in the outlyer results. I'm a little surprised that so few straight women are reading...I guess that's a general stereotype that women are interested in the lives of gay men. I couldn't seem to get women interested in my back in High School...and it seems that hasn't changed! Though I mind a hell of a lot less...
To all the questioning/curious guys reading, I hope some of the things I've written have been a help in trying to figure yourself out. I'd suggest going back and checking some of the really old entries to see where I was coming from, and how things developed. And of course, I wish you all the best of luck in your own journey.
What amazed me the most was that 5 STRAIGHT males are reading! Guys, that's amazing. You're all a rare breed, and I'm so impressed that you've taken the time to read about things you may not want to hear about... Really, you people, whoever you are, are an inspiration and I hope the rest of the world catches up to your attitude and acceptance of us ominous 'others'.
So there you have it, a brief look at your fellow readers! Another obvious question would be, "Are you out?" but maybe I'll save that for another time.
Until then, thanks for voting.
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Three hundred and sixty five days...
A lot has changed.
More than I ever thought it could. Good. Bad. Otherwise.
I can gladly say I feel more at peace with myself today than I did exactly one year ago, when I flailed wildly, resisting myself and hating my circumstance. It was so hard for me to understand...but I knew I was doomed to unhappiness and self-hatred and loneliness if I continued to let things be. I also had no idea what to do, where to go, and who to turn to.
Over the past year, my life has changed more than it had in the 20 years before it. For the first time I kissed and meant it, held hands and got the flutter in my chest, dated same-sex partners, gone to bed with them...
Sitting here now, I almost cannot imagine my life without these things. It seems like five years ago, not one, that things started to change. I am so very thankful that they did.
Am I at peace with myself now, 100%? Yes and no. I'm at peace with my sexuality. I don't have that crushing weight on my chest that screamed the need for change and to let me be me. I'm at peace with my friends, who have not turned their backs on me during my harder days or lost respect for me because I'm 'different'. I'm happy to say I love sex!
You know that I still have my tumultuous times, mostly centering around my place in the gay universe. I feel isolated from the gay community in a way I didn't really see myself feeling when I started this journey. A year out of a lifetime isn't exactly a long time, but when it feels like the rest of the world can just come out and embrace things, learn and understand and become part of a community, I feel like I'm very much behind. I'm not at peace with that aspect of my life.
I'm also not at peace with my family. I'm still worried my Mom doesn't really grasp the situation, and I haven't even told Dad yet. How badly I just want it to be out there, so I can stop wondering about what might happen if someone said something...I just want more of a resolution to this part. It's not that I don't know who I am, but I want my close family to know and understand, and ultimately accept too.
Like I have said before, I don't regret the things I've done. I do, however, regret things I did not do. I'm not an extrovert with brazen sensibilities. I think before I act...sometimes too much and for too long. I don't regret the people I've met, the places I've gone or the decisions I made. I'm just sorry that I didn't do more, pushed myself out on a limb and really took myself to the limit. I regret the simplest things, like a missed kiss. I regret the biggest things, like not forcing myself to join the GLBT group at school, or forcing myself to walk through that bar door instead of past it.
What surprises me the most about my experience is how hard it's been, even at my age. I was 20 when I started this journey, and everyone said how young I was and how I had my entire life ahead of me. I will never understand the younger gay guys, some even as young as high school kids, who somehow figure things out, come out and really get the most out of life as a young gay man. Even now after all my progress, I have relatively little gay 'street cred' compared to these twinky boys who were out at age 16. And jealous as I may be for their position in society, I am also overwhelmingly happy for them, that they did not have to go through so many years, when life is so simple, not understanding themselves and not being who they are.
This blog has been my saviour. Without writing my thoughts down, I would never have been able to think things through, and come to a better understanding of how I feel and what I want. Many times I have started writing a post only to have an, "Ahhh," moment, seeing the light and getting a better understanding of my problems, positions and questions. Without the act of writing, I don't know how I would have discovered things about myself.
I also cannot wrap my mind around how fundamentally blogging has changed my world. Because of this blog, I know people all across North America and Europe, who were in the same similar situation as I was. I've met bloggers in person, spent hours on IM to people I may never meet, and texted and phoned my newfound friends, sorting out our lives and our places in the world. Without bloggers and readers, I would never have considered things, understood myself and the world we live in like I do.
In some ways, I wonder if our blogging is a bit of a curse as well. How would things have been different for me if I could not blog, but was forced to start my coming out some other way? Would I have gone to the GLBT office on campus and talked to someone there? Would I have visited a bathhouse in desperate search of answers? Would I still be in the closet, miserable and defeated? Would I have killed myself by now?
I will never know the answers. In some ways I wonder if I could have found what I was looking for faster had I just thrown myself to the wolves. But a large part of me looks at that alternate universe and sees nothing but black because of the missing component of this blog. I do not know where I would be if it was not for all of you. When I think of the faces of people I now know, I cannot imagine life without knowing you. And quite simply, I would never have known you.
This journey has been hard. Not a single step has been easy, unquestioned or painless. There have been times when my energy is tapped, when I have no more to give to myself and nowhere else to get it from. I have felt alone and afraid, with no one to turn to. I have pat the empty side of my bed and asked my eternal question, "Why?" I have cried with and because of my family.
But I have come so far.
Am I proud of myself? Who knows. I'm pleased that I know who I am now, that I understand myself and accept myself. I'm happy that I've come out to my friends and can live freely in my identity. I'm glad I have more to myself than the fact I'm 'gay', and that people seem to recognize that. I'm happy that I've tried (though failed) to love and be loved. Still, I feel there is so much to do... but maybe the worst is behind me.
Thank you for being with me, for however many of the past 365 days you have been. I hope you'll stick around for the next 365.
More than I ever thought it could. Good. Bad. Otherwise.
I can gladly say I feel more at peace with myself today than I did exactly one year ago, when I flailed wildly, resisting myself and hating my circumstance. It was so hard for me to understand...but I knew I was doomed to unhappiness and self-hatred and loneliness if I continued to let things be. I also had no idea what to do, where to go, and who to turn to.
Over the past year, my life has changed more than it had in the 20 years before it. For the first time I kissed and meant it, held hands and got the flutter in my chest, dated same-sex partners, gone to bed with them...
Sitting here now, I almost cannot imagine my life without these things. It seems like five years ago, not one, that things started to change. I am so very thankful that they did.
Am I at peace with myself now, 100%? Yes and no. I'm at peace with my sexuality. I don't have that crushing weight on my chest that screamed the need for change and to let me be me. I'm at peace with my friends, who have not turned their backs on me during my harder days or lost respect for me because I'm 'different'. I'm happy to say I love sex!
You know that I still have my tumultuous times, mostly centering around my place in the gay universe. I feel isolated from the gay community in a way I didn't really see myself feeling when I started this journey. A year out of a lifetime isn't exactly a long time, but when it feels like the rest of the world can just come out and embrace things, learn and understand and become part of a community, I feel like I'm very much behind. I'm not at peace with that aspect of my life.
I'm also not at peace with my family. I'm still worried my Mom doesn't really grasp the situation, and I haven't even told Dad yet. How badly I just want it to be out there, so I can stop wondering about what might happen if someone said something...I just want more of a resolution to this part. It's not that I don't know who I am, but I want my close family to know and understand, and ultimately accept too.
Like I have said before, I don't regret the things I've done. I do, however, regret things I did not do. I'm not an extrovert with brazen sensibilities. I think before I act...sometimes too much and for too long. I don't regret the people I've met, the places I've gone or the decisions I made. I'm just sorry that I didn't do more, pushed myself out on a limb and really took myself to the limit. I regret the simplest things, like a missed kiss. I regret the biggest things, like not forcing myself to join the GLBT group at school, or forcing myself to walk through that bar door instead of past it.
What surprises me the most about my experience is how hard it's been, even at my age. I was 20 when I started this journey, and everyone said how young I was and how I had my entire life ahead of me. I will never understand the younger gay guys, some even as young as high school kids, who somehow figure things out, come out and really get the most out of life as a young gay man. Even now after all my progress, I have relatively little gay 'street cred' compared to these twinky boys who were out at age 16. And jealous as I may be for their position in society, I am also overwhelmingly happy for them, that they did not have to go through so many years, when life is so simple, not understanding themselves and not being who they are.
This blog has been my saviour. Without writing my thoughts down, I would never have been able to think things through, and come to a better understanding of how I feel and what I want. Many times I have started writing a post only to have an, "Ahhh," moment, seeing the light and getting a better understanding of my problems, positions and questions. Without the act of writing, I don't know how I would have discovered things about myself.
I also cannot wrap my mind around how fundamentally blogging has changed my world. Because of this blog, I know people all across North America and Europe, who were in the same similar situation as I was. I've met bloggers in person, spent hours on IM to people I may never meet, and texted and phoned my newfound friends, sorting out our lives and our places in the world. Without bloggers and readers, I would never have considered things, understood myself and the world we live in like I do.
In some ways, I wonder if our blogging is a bit of a curse as well. How would things have been different for me if I could not blog, but was forced to start my coming out some other way? Would I have gone to the GLBT office on campus and talked to someone there? Would I have visited a bathhouse in desperate search of answers? Would I still be in the closet, miserable and defeated? Would I have killed myself by now?
I will never know the answers. In some ways I wonder if I could have found what I was looking for faster had I just thrown myself to the wolves. But a large part of me looks at that alternate universe and sees nothing but black because of the missing component of this blog. I do not know where I would be if it was not for all of you. When I think of the faces of people I now know, I cannot imagine life without knowing you. And quite simply, I would never have known you.
This journey has been hard. Not a single step has been easy, unquestioned or painless. There have been times when my energy is tapped, when I have no more to give to myself and nowhere else to get it from. I have felt alone and afraid, with no one to turn to. I have pat the empty side of my bed and asked my eternal question, "Why?" I have cried with and because of my family.
But I have come so far.
Am I proud of myself? Who knows. I'm pleased that I know who I am now, that I understand myself and accept myself. I'm happy that I've come out to my friends and can live freely in my identity. I'm glad I have more to myself than the fact I'm 'gay', and that people seem to recognize that. I'm happy that I've tried (though failed) to love and be loved. Still, I feel there is so much to do... but maybe the worst is behind me.
Thank you for being with me, for however many of the past 365 days you have been. I hope you'll stick around for the next 365.
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Glad tidings...
There is nothing more comforting than Elvis Presley singing Christmas/Religious songs.
After I sent my guests home tonight, many bottles of wine and even a bottle of Bollinger put away ("Thanks to my very best friends, from highschool to today, I love you all" I told my story to one of my best friends while one slept on the couch, the others preoccupied with the piano playing Cohen's "Hallelujah."
For the first time ever, I cried about a boy and an impossible situation.
While holding each other on the couch, she told me it was the most romantic thing she'd ever heard.
What can I say, other than I feel drained. Even after I sent a text and received a phone call, I don't know what to say.
Thank God Elvis is on the stereo, reassuring me that Christmas, family and friends are what matters at this time of year.
"Listen to those wonderous bells..." he said, during 'The Wonderful World of Christmas'.
"Shall remain every day in our hearts..."
But still, why does it ring so true, "It won't feel like Christmas without you, no matter so many miles between..."
Gah...I'm a hopeless romantic that will die after I get myself in too deep one too many times. But then what?... and why do I torture myself so now. This wasn't the way it was supposed to work. But, as my friend said, "It's the way things happened, can't you just be happy for it?"
After I sent my guests home tonight, many bottles of wine and even a bottle of Bollinger put away ("Thanks to my very best friends, from highschool to today, I love you all" I told my story to one of my best friends while one slept on the couch, the others preoccupied with the piano playing Cohen's "Hallelujah."
For the first time ever, I cried about a boy and an impossible situation.
While holding each other on the couch, she told me it was the most romantic thing she'd ever heard.
What can I say, other than I feel drained. Even after I sent a text and received a phone call, I don't know what to say.
Thank God Elvis is on the stereo, reassuring me that Christmas, family and friends are what matters at this time of year.
"Listen to those wonderous bells..." he said, during 'The Wonderful World of Christmas'.
"Shall remain every day in our hearts..."
But still, why does it ring so true, "It won't feel like Christmas without you, no matter so many miles between..."
Gah...I'm a hopeless romantic that will die after I get myself in too deep one too many times. But then what?... and why do I torture myself so now. This wasn't the way it was supposed to work. But, as my friend said, "It's the way things happened, can't you just be happy for it?"
Friday, December 21, 2007
Shopping with Mom...
I never knew Christmas shopping could be so...awkward...
Mom and I had gotten what we needed that day, and were about to pack it in. After a moment, we wound up stopping for dinner, because we both figured we'd rather eat there than go home and cook...hey, it's Christmas, right?
A few doors down from the restaurant was a sex shop. It looked kinda small, and kinda run down, but hey, sex stores are fun. As we walked by, my Mom looked through the window and said, "Maybe we should get your father something from in there, he always talks about going in...sometimes I think he's serious!"
We both laughed, because it's true; he's always joking about needing to stop off for a few things. At least, I hope he's always joking...
We sat down to dinner, and tried again in vain to figure out some small gift for Dad to open that would be a complete surprise. My mind kept pulling back to the sex store...what could I possibly find in there? I kept racking my brain...after all, what do straight men buy at sex shops? Considering most of their stock is, uh, penetrable items, I don't understand what the average straight dude buys.
After dinner, we were walking past the store again, and I knew it was now or never. "I'm going in," I said, laughing, "are you coming?"
Might as well play this for all it was worth...
She hesitated for a second, then nodded. And so, mother and gay son entered the den of inequity together.
I tried not to make it too obvious that I was staring at all the, uh, penetrable products, because I didn't want to scare her too badly. I was half expecting a quiet question about my experiences, after me blurting out, "Well damn, they don't have a lot of selection, do they?"
In the novelty section, cards, candy and games were priced to sell. I selected a pair of chocolate tits for dear old dad, and made my way further into the store. We hit the lingerie section, complete with articles for him and her. Jokingly I walked to the His section, scanning the wall until inspiration hit.
There, hanging low on the rack, was a Tartan jockstrap.
It was a regular jock with no material in the crotch, and a little curtain of silky Tartan-patterned fabric covering the crotch. We both burst out laughing.
That was it! That was the present! A perfect gag gift that will make for hilarity all day. We both could not stop laughing at the imagined antics of said strap, which, though not sporting the family Tartan, will be the source for most laughs of the day. I have no doubt that at some point it will wind up on my father, grandmother, lamp, Christmas tree and possibly the turkey.
Surprisingly enough, Mom seemed to really get into it. "Make sure you get the right size," she said. Oh God, I don't want to know what happens to this thing after Christmas day...
That night I went home and wrapped it up in a big box, weighed down by two cans of beans. So my fathers new Tartan jockstrap is now tucked under the tree, with Grandma's body wash, Mom's new purse and Grandpa's box of chocolates.
Twisted Christmas.
Mom and I had gotten what we needed that day, and were about to pack it in. After a moment, we wound up stopping for dinner, because we both figured we'd rather eat there than go home and cook...hey, it's Christmas, right?
A few doors down from the restaurant was a sex shop. It looked kinda small, and kinda run down, but hey, sex stores are fun. As we walked by, my Mom looked through the window and said, "Maybe we should get your father something from in there, he always talks about going in...sometimes I think he's serious!"
We both laughed, because it's true; he's always joking about needing to stop off for a few things. At least, I hope he's always joking...
We sat down to dinner, and tried again in vain to figure out some small gift for Dad to open that would be a complete surprise. My mind kept pulling back to the sex store...what could I possibly find in there? I kept racking my brain...after all, what do straight men buy at sex shops? Considering most of their stock is, uh, penetrable items, I don't understand what the average straight dude buys.
After dinner, we were walking past the store again, and I knew it was now or never. "I'm going in," I said, laughing, "are you coming?"
Might as well play this for all it was worth...
She hesitated for a second, then nodded. And so, mother and gay son entered the den of inequity together.
I tried not to make it too obvious that I was staring at all the, uh, penetrable products, because I didn't want to scare her too badly. I was half expecting a quiet question about my experiences, after me blurting out, "Well damn, they don't have a lot of selection, do they?"
In the novelty section, cards, candy and games were priced to sell. I selected a pair of chocolate tits for dear old dad, and made my way further into the store. We hit the lingerie section, complete with articles for him and her. Jokingly I walked to the His section, scanning the wall until inspiration hit.
There, hanging low on the rack, was a Tartan jockstrap.
It was a regular jock with no material in the crotch, and a little curtain of silky Tartan-patterned fabric covering the crotch. We both burst out laughing.
That was it! That was the present! A perfect gag gift that will make for hilarity all day. We both could not stop laughing at the imagined antics of said strap, which, though not sporting the family Tartan, will be the source for most laughs of the day. I have no doubt that at some point it will wind up on my father, grandmother, lamp, Christmas tree and possibly the turkey.
Surprisingly enough, Mom seemed to really get into it. "Make sure you get the right size," she said. Oh God, I don't want to know what happens to this thing after Christmas day...
That night I went home and wrapped it up in a big box, weighed down by two cans of beans. So my fathers new Tartan jockstrap is now tucked under the tree, with Grandma's body wash, Mom's new purse and Grandpa's box of chocolates.
Twisted Christmas.
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Mental health/physical health...
I just realized something about the last post and my over-arching gay situation.
It's the same thing.
I'm scared to go to the gym, because I don't know what to do there, or how to act, or the 'rules' and how things work. I don't have a friend in my life to be an introduction, to show me the ropes and help me make a smooth transition. I know where the gym is, but I don't know how to enter into that culture successfully.
I'm scared to go to gay bars, because I don't know what to do there, or how to act, or the 'rules' and how things work. I don't have a friend in my life to be an introduction, to show me the ropes and help me make a smooth transition. I know where the gay bar is, but I don't know how to enter into that culture successfully.
Totally different things, I know, but it's hitting me like a tonne of bricks. But it's the same sort of confusion, terror, dread and unknowing I feel when I think of either situation. And how cut off I feel from finding helping hands.
Food for thought...I guess this just means even though I'm really well rounded, there are a few 'scenes' in life that I have no clue about. I'm not built with the capacity to just throw myself into a totally new and foreign situation. I need to research and understand everything before I then walk through the door. I get my confidence from my intelligence, understanding and ability to problem solve and outthink.
I have no confidence in these few yet important parts of life because I know nothing about them. And what's over-riding my ability to just do it is my fear of rejection and failure in a situation I've already convinced myself I'm going to drown in.
Damn.
It's the same thing.
I'm scared to go to the gym, because I don't know what to do there, or how to act, or the 'rules' and how things work. I don't have a friend in my life to be an introduction, to show me the ropes and help me make a smooth transition. I know where the gym is, but I don't know how to enter into that culture successfully.
I'm scared to go to gay bars, because I don't know what to do there, or how to act, or the 'rules' and how things work. I don't have a friend in my life to be an introduction, to show me the ropes and help me make a smooth transition. I know where the gay bar is, but I don't know how to enter into that culture successfully.
Totally different things, I know, but it's hitting me like a tonne of bricks. But it's the same sort of confusion, terror, dread and unknowing I feel when I think of either situation. And how cut off I feel from finding helping hands.
Food for thought...I guess this just means even though I'm really well rounded, there are a few 'scenes' in life that I have no clue about. I'm not built with the capacity to just throw myself into a totally new and foreign situation. I need to research and understand everything before I then walk through the door. I get my confidence from my intelligence, understanding and ability to problem solve and outthink.
I have no confidence in these few yet important parts of life because I know nothing about them. And what's over-riding my ability to just do it is my fear of rejection and failure in a situation I've already convinced myself I'm going to drown in.
Damn.
Get thee to a gym...
My mother doesn't know how to be helpful sometimes.
This is yet another classic example of her 'trying to help' with things in life. We were talking about nothing, and out of the blue she tells me, "The gym is having $25 passes for students for the Christmas holidays until school starts again."
What she didn't say was, "You should join."
I took a few seconds to decide how I should respond to this. I played it at face value. "Oh, that's nice."
The thing that drives me mad is her inability to just come out and say 'Lets go to the gym together while you're home, it'll be easy and you might like it.' She just drops this 'hint' out of nowhere, I guess expecting me to jump all over it with excitement.
Truthfully, I would love to join the gym. I'm thinned down. I'm not toned up. This needs fixing if I am ever to be exposing my upper arms, chest and stomach to anyone under more than a candle-glow of light. And God-willing that will be soon, so I need to start working now.
But my problem is, I have no idea what one does at a gym, or how they do it. Hell, I don't even know what guys wear at a gym. I don't own a stitch of sport clothing, or even 'running shoes'. And that isn't even the biggest part.
I was never an athletic kid in school. Far from it, I hated (and still hate) sports, the jock mentality and the cliquiness of physical fitness. I've been so under-exposed to it that I have very little concept of what one does in a gym, other than some very clever porn movies I might have seen. And something tells me marathon sex on the mats isn't what the gym is all about.
I'll admit it, I'm scared of the gym. I'm scared of people (boys) with nicer bodies than mine, scared of people (boys) who will undoubtedly laugh at me while I haplessly try to navigate this 'fitness' thing. Even though I'm sure most people are quite nice, I can't help but associate gym-goers with jocks. It's like prisoners in a jail, you instantly tense up when surrounded by people who are so out of your element.
But I want to start going, I want to learn what you do, and I want to overcome this insanity that is my complete lack of knowledge about gym practices.
The biggest issue is simply that I do not have any skills at all. I wouldn't know what you do with a weight, how far and fast you run on a treadmill, how to use something called an 'elliptical trainer'. And I'm embarrassed, because I'm a boy, and boys are supposed to know how to do this stuff.
I essentially would be a danger to myself and others.
"I wouldn't even know what to do at a gym," I told her, sort of expecting some answer as to how one starts to learn about working out. "It'd be totally new to me, I haven't got a clue how you do anything..."
She paused. "Oh, well, I'm sure people would help you get started..."
What in hell is that supposed to mean? Talk about making me not feel any better about the situation! At least she could have told me a story about someone new to the gym, and how they made out. But no, she just figures people would 'help me out'!?
So boys, tell me, how does one start going to a gym? And how does one do so without making an ass out of himself?
This is yet another classic example of her 'trying to help' with things in life. We were talking about nothing, and out of the blue she tells me, "The gym is having $25 passes for students for the Christmas holidays until school starts again."
What she didn't say was, "You should join."
I took a few seconds to decide how I should respond to this. I played it at face value. "Oh, that's nice."
The thing that drives me mad is her inability to just come out and say 'Lets go to the gym together while you're home, it'll be easy and you might like it.' She just drops this 'hint' out of nowhere, I guess expecting me to jump all over it with excitement.
Truthfully, I would love to join the gym. I'm thinned down. I'm not toned up. This needs fixing if I am ever to be exposing my upper arms, chest and stomach to anyone under more than a candle-glow of light. And God-willing that will be soon, so I need to start working now.
But my problem is, I have no idea what one does at a gym, or how they do it. Hell, I don't even know what guys wear at a gym. I don't own a stitch of sport clothing, or even 'running shoes'. And that isn't even the biggest part.
I was never an athletic kid in school. Far from it, I hated (and still hate) sports, the jock mentality and the cliquiness of physical fitness. I've been so under-exposed to it that I have very little concept of what one does in a gym, other than some very clever porn movies I might have seen. And something tells me marathon sex on the mats isn't what the gym is all about.
I'll admit it, I'm scared of the gym. I'm scared of people (boys) with nicer bodies than mine, scared of people (boys) who will undoubtedly laugh at me while I haplessly try to navigate this 'fitness' thing. Even though I'm sure most people are quite nice, I can't help but associate gym-goers with jocks. It's like prisoners in a jail, you instantly tense up when surrounded by people who are so out of your element.
But I want to start going, I want to learn what you do, and I want to overcome this insanity that is my complete lack of knowledge about gym practices.
The biggest issue is simply that I do not have any skills at all. I wouldn't know what you do with a weight, how far and fast you run on a treadmill, how to use something called an 'elliptical trainer'. And I'm embarrassed, because I'm a boy, and boys are supposed to know how to do this stuff.
I essentially would be a danger to myself and others.
"I wouldn't even know what to do at a gym," I told her, sort of expecting some answer as to how one starts to learn about working out. "It'd be totally new to me, I haven't got a clue how you do anything..."
She paused. "Oh, well, I'm sure people would help you get started..."
What in hell is that supposed to mean? Talk about making me not feel any better about the situation! At least she could have told me a story about someone new to the gym, and how they made out. But no, she just figures people would 'help me out'!?
So boys, tell me, how does one start going to a gym? And how does one do so without making an ass out of himself?
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