Man Monday! It Doesn’t Matter: Men Dating Other Men, by a Man

**This blog was written by a man and from a males point of view**

For about as long as I’ve been sexually aware, which has been around 20 years now, I’ve always noticed the norms of sex. Men with women is the vast composition of how it all works, it’s the norm. Also, my entire life, I’ve been in line with that. I’ve never had any emotion towards men, and I’m 100% for women. That’s how it is, and that’s how it will always be.

However, at the same time there’s a whole different side of what’s going on around than what I’m into as well. Homosexuality isn’t new; it’s been around for as long as humans have. However, in the revolution of recent times and social norms being more lenient than at any time before, it has come into the forefront more than ever during my time on Earth. And you know what? It doesn’t bother me in the slightest. But you know what else? I’m waaaaay far in the male minority, admittedly or not. I’ve never understood this. My take on life in general is that if it isn’t affecting me, either negatively or positively, it doesn’t bother me. But for so many men, there’s an automatic deflection against anything homosexual at all, whether it’s a person, a supposed color alignment and definitely the connotation that association can personally bring. It’s treated like a plague or something that should be avoided because it can rub off somehow. What it’s become is like the adult version of coodies, which is a theory we long should have grown away from  (unless you’re still as smart as you were when you were six, which may be a bit of a mature estimate for a lot of folks when it comes to the subject).Yet at the same time, we so freely associate with so many more outwardly harmful things with complete acceptance. Domestic abuse, drug users/abusers and even straight out killers. All are given much more acceptance than a person who simply doesn’t have the same desires as you may have in a mate. There are a lot of things I don’t understand, but this is right up towards the top of the list (along with why Chipotle is so good and why people drink rail liquor after the age of 21).

A lot of the time, this gets labeled as homophobic, which isn’t exactly right. While there are clear purely homophobic people, there are plenty of people that aren’t homophobes in any way, shape or form. A phobia implies a fear, and I know of plenty of people who have no fear of gays, but still condemn them for how they choose to live their lives. It’s a default dislike, that while they wouldn’t be violent against one, it still changes the entire way they view a person based on what they sexually associate with. I’ve seen this happen personally in my life, with me in the middle. About three years ago, a friend and mentor of mine came out. Now this is a person that is well known in several circles of my college community, and well liked as well. When he made his decision to share that with the world at large, the reactions were many and varied. Some people were shocked, some people found it funny, others seemed just generally curious.

However, the most interesting reactions were the people that seemed put off or just plain angry. This is a person that you have formed a bond with, and is still that exact same person. A person that if you’d asked about just 10 minutes earlier, you’d have nothing but praise for, now you are uncomfortable around them for something that they’ve never projected on you at any point, but is now an “invisible threat” of some sort. That’s a mentality I will never understand. It changed nothing for me with him. I shared the same jokes, conversations and debates we always had. It just so happened he had a boyfriend now too, who was another really cool dude as well. I sensed no difference in him, and  me? I’m unaffected. There are far worse things that a person can be than gay. It’s not a bad thing to be gay. It’s different than me, sure, but is it something that completely defines who a person is, absolutely not. No more than my heterosexuality defines who I am. Sure, it’s a major element of a major part of my life, but does it change anything about my philosophies on life, what I enjoy and what my conversation and outlook on essential things like spirituality, politics and even food is? No, and it doesn’t for them either.

Think about how little the choice of mate really makes in your relationship with both your established friends and people you meet in random occurrences in life. Differences do separate us, but at the same time, they don’t have to divide us.

– @CheapSeatFan

Gay Pride Month! Being Bisexual in a Homophobic Family

Since June is recognized as Gay Pride Month, I figured what better time to tell my coming out story and the ‘ever-after’ that has followed! Before I begin I want to send a big hug and all the love I can muster to my LGBT community, family and friends. Happy Gay Pride Month!

In 2002 I was driving with my best friend at the time to a store to go shopping for her birthday party. We were listening to the radio and the song playing mentioned something about girls kissing girls. My friend J* then turned the station and said something along the lines of “gay people love rubbing their gayness in your face“. I sat there feeling so uneasy that I am sure my face was beet red. A year prior I had sex with a female classmate, not just “making out” but full-on lesbian sex. Since then I secretly dated girls, secretly had sex with girls and secretly LOVED it. It felt normal, in fact I felt more comfortable at that time with girls than I had felt with my male suitors. Being born in brazilian culture and a heavy catholic rod on my neck, I knew better than to think I was normal. I kept my “sinful” thoughts to myself and let shame replace joy. Once J and I pulled into the Macy’s parking lot I asked her “what if I were gay?”, she turned around and said “I would buy some dick to rape you so you wouldn’t go to hell.” 

College came and I was in heaven, I was dating a female secretly behind my boyfriends back. I kept him around to keep the questions at bay. My life in college had NOTHING to do with my family or upbringing so I felt completely free to be me. I would kiss her in public, go to gay clubs and bars and this is when Facebook emerged. My photos were filled with me being at nothing BUT gay clubs or frat parties. I was so carefree that I forgot that some of my relatives had access to my photos and were secretly showing my mom what I was doing and the profiles of some of my college friends. I remember her calling me one night asking me about my boyfriend, she drilled me for about an hour, she wanted to know how our dates were and if I was “keeping the devil out of my head”. I played along and said yes to everything, hung up and rolled over to my girlfriend. That was the beauty of being in the closet at that time to me, what I did was NO ONES BUSINESS. I felt I was an adult and since I wasn’t living at home- why should I tell her?! I never knew that telling her would feel like my soul taking a big sigh after years of holding its’ breath.

That Christmas came and I went home to visit for a month. During this time my girlfriend and I were fighting and damn near broken up. Every phone call resulted in a screaming match and me crying for at least 2 hours. During one of these fights, I forgot to call her by her nickname and I said “Stephanie“, I had no idea my 12-year old cousin was behind me recording me on his video camera. It was 2am and I thought being on the back porch was private enough. The next morning I wake up to a house full of silent people and my every move being followed. My mother was short with me, my aunt refused to say anything and my brother ignored me. I think my family is weird anyway so at first I thought they were just being their usual, odd selves until I heard my mom say “So you are a full blown dyke now???“

-insert 50lb weight in your belly, nausea, confusion and fear-

The tv turns to camera mode and my cousin hits play and on a 52″ flat screen, I watch myself arguing with Stephanie. I am crying and clearly in the midst of a lovers quarrel so denying anything would not only make me look crazy but also a terrible liar. But I still deny, I said her name was Stephen and the camera heard it wrong and then I just sat there. Head down and crying, ashamed, feeling bad for being me. No one persuaded me to like girls, I’ve always had a natural attraction. I listened to my aunt tell me that my soul was on the “betting table and I was giving the devil the upper hand“. I was confused. I was too young to even know what being gay is! Gay women only exist in prison! womp, womp, womp. I eventually excused myself from the table and retreated to my room to call my girlfriend, and the only other person I knew I could turn to- my neighbor in Columbus. He was a 50+ homosexual reverend. I stayed in my room for the majority of the week, I only went downstairs when everyone else was gone or sleep. I kept headphones on and pretended to have a lot of work to do while on vacation. I sat on my bed and realized, although I was confronted I had never came out. I wasn’t ashamed of who I was or who I dated, I was still me! I was still on the deans’ list at O State, I still worked hard and I wasn’t riddled with diseases. I felt like my home was kindergarten and I had the cooties, everyone became scared to interact with me on any level besides confrontational.

That night I came downstairs while everyone was eating and I said “I’m NOT a lesbian, I just so happen to like men AND women. Nothing is wrong with me, God knew what I liked the day he decided to keep me and you can’t tell me otherwise“. And like that I was open and out of my closet. My mom proceeded to wake me up at 3am “praying the gay away”. I had holy oil thrown on me and at me everyday, I was fanned with smoke sticks to lure the demon out, I was ignored, I was talked at and around in such a mean way while I was right there in ear shot as if I were not human, but I stopped crying. Every day that passed I felt better, I felt encouraged, I was not ashamed of me and if they had a problem with who I had sex with they ought not imagine the kinky shit I partake in. Eventually the silence stopped and that awkward shift relaxed. It wasn’t instant, it took YEARS. My mom all but disowned me, but now she defends me. My aunt has stopped throwing holy water on me, she still tells me I’m going to hell but she’s making progress.

I am the only same-sex lover in my family – that is out and I am okay with that. My family allows my little cousins to judge, ridicule and in some ways bully a transgendered classmate of his. I work twice as hard to explain to him, in front of them, that being LGBT does not make you a bad person and that everyone has a one way ticket to earth, once we board our next flight NO MAN knows our next destination. It has been a struggle, sometimes I walk into my mothers home to hear the word “faggot” 20 times and “those people“, I had to learn how to not fight everything at once with my family. I fought them several times a day, everyday, when I first came out. Every wrong thing they said or did, I was there with a rod in my hand to verbally beat them. Since then I’ve learned that this is totally new for them as well, throwing my opinion around makes for week-long arguments. Now I just hit them with references and facts, my point gets across with no elevated voices and eventually a calm ” I understand”. I don’t rub my “gay” in their face but I will not hide who I am as if it were a bad report card. Shame no longer lives here. I am Afro-Brazilian, Bisexual and Proud!