It’s been a while since my last blog. A lot has happened and at the same time nothing has actually happened. Status quo. Lame.
I came very near to a relationship and then the universe (and the guy) made other plans without me. It’s probably for the best but that doesn’t do much to numb the sting of rejection. To make a long story short… I’ve known this guy for years. He was a friend of a friend and then we started taking a yoga class together last May. We would see each other for an hour or two a week and chat before and after class and it was very nice. Eventually I thought to myself “hey, why don’t you ask this guy out?” And the answer in my head was less than enthusiastic. We seemed compatible in most ways but there wasn’t really any spark or attraction there. I assume he came to a similar conclusion as well. But I decided to get to know him better and see if a spark could develop. We went to a few places together – not really dates but not “not dates” either, sort of a gray area where we went places together but without any sort of requirement of romance. On the last “sort of date” two things happened. 1) I started to develop feelings for him and 2) he met someone else and as far as I know they are still dating. This wasn’t so bad… it just didn’t work. I didn’t really have to put myself out there to be rejected… life goes on. But then his roommate (a mutual friend) bought me a drink a day or two later and warned me that the guy in question was going to try to set me up with someone – someone I have met and have no interest in for a variety of reasons but mostly because he’s so far in the closet he can’t even see the door. This is where I got my feelers hurt because this was a clear indication of guilt on his part. This says to me “hey, I realize we were sort of seeing each other but it didn’t really work for me and I want to thank you for introducing me to my current boyfriend by fixing you up with this guy that is clearly all wrong for you.” So, now I get all the pain of rejection without ever having to put myself on the line. Neat. To make matters worse I lost my yoga buddy.
But I bounce back quickly these days. I had one preliminary “not date” with another guy already and plan on having an honest to goodness real date with him in a couple days. This new one is interesting. There is a bit of a spark that I’m having trouble figuring out. He doesn’t seem like my “type” but experience has taught me that my “type” consists of guys that don’t want me, live too far away to be realistic, or have some sort of major issue that prevents a healthy relationship. So, fuck my “type.” I’m going to have fun and meet people and most importantly… I’m going to attempt to not over think every stupid little thing.
Last week was Thanksgiving, the traditional time of year for coming out to your family, except I came out to mine years ago. It went well but we agreed that my parents should be the ones to tell my extended family if they so choose. This was a time gamble that they would tell them before I ended up bringing a “roommate” or “friend” home for the holidays at some point. My reasoning behind this was that my parents have to see my extended family on a regular basis and I see them maybe 4-6 times a year. So the last time I went home I found out that my dad told my grandpa and did an AMAZING job of it. This time I found out that my mom told my grandma, two aunts, and subsequently pretty much the entire extended family. All she said was that my grandma has known since I was a little boy. So, um… that was simple. No muss, no fuss, no drama, no problems. It should have been a relief and maybe it will be once I digest everything but for now I feel weird. I have no excuse to not bring a special someone home for the holidays since they are now expecting it. I have no secrets, no lies, nothing to hide behind… it’s just me and that’s not something I’m used to and it’s kind of terrifying. There were no conversations with extended family this trip. Actually, nobody really said much at all to me. It’s not that they were avoiding me… I think I was avoiding them. I felt oddly isolated and more of an outsider than I ever have before. I’m sure that will pass in time. There is always an adjustment period.
I did have one very unsettling conversation with my parents one night. My dad bought my mom a little pistol “for home protection” for the nights that my dad and brother are out. The phrase “for home protection” grates on my every nerve. My parents don’t live in some inner city neighborhood wrought with violence, they live in cattle country. Their nearest neighbor is a cop, then my grandparents, then an aunt and uncle, then about a mile until anybody else. I’m not so naïve to think that bad stuff can’t happen even there… but it’s astronomically unlikely. I explained this to my mom months ago and she brought up one incident that happened in a town 2 ½ hours away where a man was shot in his bed while he slept. Ok… so what about the thousands of other nights where nobody was shot? And how would having a pistol in his nightstand protected him if he was sleeping? It was a totally fear based argument that was not in the least based in reality. I determined that the NRA had gotten my family to drink the koolaid and there wasn’t much I could do about it. So, I decided to just let it drop. If my mom feels better having a pistol in her night stand then I guess there is no harm in that (other than the very real possibility that my dad or brother will come unexpectedly and get shot and it also made me think twice about getting up for a drink of water in the night).
And then the conversation started up again. Only this time it was aimed directly at me. They said that I need a gun “for home protection.” I asked against what or who since I live in a good neighborhood in a very safe town and have never once thought a second time about going out alone at night or really about doing anything. I’ve not once felt unsafe in my home. I know my neighbors, I know my community, and I know my town. Sure, bad stuff happens everywhere but it’s the exception and even then the far exception and never the rule. I explained this and then my dad did the unspeakable. He invoked “his” name – the poster child of hate crime whose shadow I have lived in since I was 17 years old. Basically my parents argument was that Matthew Shepard was just minding his own business and some bad people killed him for being gay so naturally since I live in the same town the same will probably happen to me and I need a gun to defend myself. I was insulted, shocked, angry, and horribly disappointed. This was exactly the propaganda I fight every time I leave my town. This murder was a fluke… while it does happen all over the world far more often than it should; it was not in any way a reflection of my community. I can feel safe in my community because I help to make and keep it safe. I could have shrugged it off as no big deal except for the look of real fear and concern in my parents eyes. How do I convince them that I’m probably in one of the safest places in the world for me? How do I show them that by even introducing the idea that I am unsafe they are shattering my sense of safety? How do I explain that I don’t want anything in my home that is designed for the sole purpose of killing a person? A giant rift suddenly opened up between me and my parents and years worth of work and understanding and late night heart to hearts fell into it. In a matter of minutes it became clear that my parents, for all their attempts, simply don’t understand who I am on a fundamental level. I’m just some gay dude and in their world faggots are still hunted and killed. Their world is a scary place and now it’s overshadowing the peaceful world I’ve created for myself. I don’t know how to reconcile that.
