“I hate being gay. It’s a lonely, miserable life.”

“I hate being gay. It’s a lonely, miserable life.”

This is a comment I once received on my blog and even my jaded heart went out to its sender. So for him and others like him who read my shit, here’s my view of the world. I don’t profess to be a philosopher or psychologist or sociologist. Just an observer of Life.

You are what you are. Gay is in the genes, so self-hatred is bullshit. If you don’t want to 20150902_121915act on your impulses, that’s fine. But there’s a hell of a lot worst stuff that could happen to your DNA, so get over it and move on. Consider yourself a member of some secret society even if at times you feel it’s a society of one.

Don’t live your life through other people like celebs who so many airheads in America put on this lofty pedestal. (Who really gives a fuck if so and so is getting laid?) Live your life for you and appreciate whatever you’ve got.

Don’t fall for the gay pop propaganda machine. By that I mean, don’t have lofty expectations of what you should get. Come on, now, is the cover guy from GQ the only thing that will turn you on? His chiseled body is probably because he has a meth habit, not a gym one. There are so many other guys out there for real if you just let it happen.

By the same token, don’t measure or compare yourself against these shallow stereotypes of this overblown sub-culture of ours. If greater society glorifies physical perfection, hell, we gays have made it a god. Many of these so-called beauties are shitheads when it comes to interacting with people or being successful at anything more than loving themselves.

I should know – I’ve slept with my share of them.

Instead, search in yourself what you find good and appealing – to you, not HIM. Is it your intelligence, your wit, your crystal clear blue eyes, your talent at making good burgers? Because unless you’re happy with yourself you’ll never be happy, and by happy I mean confident and comfortable, with anyone else even if you have the best looking guy in town in your bed 24/7.

And while I over-preach about getting in shape, it’s a fact exercise – even if means walking around the mall – makes you feel better. And if you start looking better too, the self confidence – “I feel good about me and if the rest of the world doesn’t it, fuck ‘em” – will kick in.

Don’t follow the herd. I think a lot of guys – young and old – think they have to adopt the stereotypical look and mannerisms and lifestyle of what society equates as being gay (including the super butch, buzzed look or sixteen tatts) to be accepted or popular or sexy if, by this sub-culture’s standards, they have nothing else to offer. Again be yourself – whatever the fuck that is for you.

Don’t fall for the fantasy notion that everybody meets their soul mate and walks the sands of time together into oblivion. Frankly, I think most guys – most people – never meet anyone truly on their wavelength. Many of us – straight and gay – pair off for social comfort or financial reasons, not because we’re “in love.” Many of us I even think don’t give a shit. After all, if we wanted lifelong commitment we’d marry a woman.

I’m not knocking those who find HIM, but O.K., so what? Remember, every time we invite another person into our life, we need to be ready to compromise. I don’t know about you – I hate compromising.

Aloneness and loneliness are two very different animals. I’ve never been a very gregarious person; maybe it stems from my childhood when my mother held me back from playing with other kids for fear I’d get hurt. Now, as I grow older, I relish my reclusiveness. Sure I can socialize with a few close friends who I realize still worry more about their own shitty little lives than mine, hit the bars and take in the people parade, have my occasional sex or Kodak moment with a guy, but in the end I’d rather be with my dogs. Alone? Yes. Lonely? Honestly, not very often.

And don’t envy all those coteries of knock-out guys you see in the bars or in the beach with so-called dozens of friends. Most are surface, fly-by relationships, acquaintances, or fleeting fuck buddies, if that. Stats prove most of us have, maybe, two or three people we can rely on. And if there’s no one, so be it. My greatest personal comfort is self-reliance.

Some guys, particularly those in out-of the way places where the closest gay man is 75 miles away, use the web for social networking and buddying up with other guys, something impossible just 15 years ago. So God bless the web for that. But don’t think us gay boys in the urban areas have all the fun. Sometimes because there’s so much to choose from, people get picky and end up waiting for the guy that doesn’t exist. Coming from a small town where you got 10.5 gay men may actually be an advantage.

In the end, what is to be gay any way? We’re men who are attracted to men, whatever the type: young, old, butch, fem, bald, hippy, tall, short, hairy, smooth, chubby, jocky, geeky, slow, smart. Enjoy whatever it is in a man – your type of man – that turns you on and gets you off. But you can do that with web porn or the largest erotic organ in our body – our brains – as much as you can do it in the flesh.

The sexologists say most sexual encounters only last 17 minutes anyway. What about the other 42,031,000 minutes of your life?

Ain’t you got better things to do?




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