Tuesday, October 11, 2005
Happy National Coming Out Day
If you’re in the closet, cut the shit and walk out of it. I’m serious. You’ll find yourself so much cooler and people will honestly like you better. I thought it was safe in my closet too, but then I came out and realized that the rest of the world has much more respect for an “honest” gay man, rather than a “closeted” gay man. Personally, I respect both. But I can tell you in all truth…walk out of it. It’s hard in the beginning, but it gets awesome in the end.
For today’s post, I figured that I would tell my own personal coming out story. I mean, why not? It’s not like “Joe” has always been gay. For a while there, I was the most effeminate stud on the block. I always had a girlfriend. In fact, I had one for 4 years that I never went down on. Now, you show ME an example of a straight guy that could have a girlfriend for 4 years, yet never do the nasty. I’m that good.
Yeah that’s right…I’m big on conversation. And clue to all you straight men out there…get a talkin or get a walkin.
I always knew that something was up with me. When I was in 8th grade, I was shocked to discover that my dick got hard and big every time that I thought about Arnold Schwarzenegger. Yet, then I would think about my girlfriend Jackie and nothing. But then Arnold and SOMETHING. But then Jackie and nothing.
Then I hit 9th grade. I looked at my parents’ Joy of Sex book in order to learn the technique of masturbation. G-d, I tried for hours and nothing. I would raise my ass in the air just like the pictures and I just couldn’t figure out what an orgasm was. Then one day, I’m doing my “technique” while watching Gilad: Bodies in Motion and I just exploded. I remember standing in my family room and jerking my dick and screaming at the top of my lungs when that weird sticky mucus came out. OMG…this was masturbation. And OMG…this was Gilad: Bodies in Motion.
Over the years I learned that personal pleasure was related to muscle men and social acceptance was related to tit touching and pussy fingering. It’s what was expected of me and it’s what I did. Although I gotta tell you, the inside of a vagina does for me now what it did for me then. NIGHTMARE OF MY EXISTENCE. I just don’t understand anything on the inside of my body and vaginas seem too open and fleshy to have a penis in there. Won’t you get an infection? And barf…let’s not talk about yeasties. That shit truly turns my dick inside out.
The years went by and when I was 20, I had my first gay experience. It was awkward and mean and I was made to feel like it was an ugly thing. “We can jerk off together and you can jerk me off if you want, but don’t try to kiss me”. Everything that I had previously believed about gay men was coming true. We’re all a bunch of faggots that don’t deserve love. We only deserve back corner blow jobs and relationships with guys that have long time girlfriends. What a shame.
I’m 28 now and I’ve just walked out of a 5 year relationship. While I’ve not learned much more about gay sex (still an intercourse virgin at 28 ya’ll), I’ve learned how honest and real a gay relationship can be. I will always love my Paul and I will always look at my relationship with him as something that is…was…always will be…a completely necessary step in my growth process. It IS possible to love a gay man and have a literal and logistical relationship.
If it weren’t for my friend Kelly, I probably never would have come out. We were sitting at Nancy’s Coffee Shop one day, in Crossgates Mall, and she told me that she was a lesbian. I sipped my hot chocolate (never was one for coffee) and basically saw my life flash before my eyes. Here was a 17 year old girl telling me that she was strong enough to be a lesbian, yet I was a 20 year old guy believing that I would eventually find the right girl.
I thought about what she said and I did the only natural thing. I went back to college and told the only girl I’ve ever been truly in love with that I was gay.
That was a fun day for Miss Rita and me.
Rita is essentially the first girl I ever came out to and Rita is the first girl that I ever struggled through it with. Within days I came out to Kelly as well and my history just kind of repeats itself after that.
Why is it that gay men can admit they’re homosexual, yet they can’t admit they’re gay? Why is it that I joke with my straight friends about feminine guys, yet I turn around and flame out myself? Why is it that I can’t look at any videotapes from when I was younger, because I’m embarrassed of my true self?
National Coming Out Day is one of the FEW days of the year when I’m actually proud of who I am. I walk around and think…I’m gay and I’m fucking happy with it. And you know why? Because I get a “holiday”, that no one recognizes, but still exists, and makes me feel like a real live, respectable, human being.
So I say to you.
Coming out of the closet is an activity that I do on a daily basis. I question my own “kind”, I put on the masculine voice, I pretend that I don’t have an affinity to Broadway musical soundtracks.
But on October 11th, I rush immediately home to work on a post that will remind me why I’m happy being Joe. Why I’m happy being gay.
This is my destiny. And I’ve chosen to accept the painful journey that goes along with it.
If you’re in the closet, cut the shit and walk out of it. I’m serious. You’ll find yourself so much cooler and people will honestly like you better. I thought it was safe in my closet too, but then I came out and realized that the rest of the world has much more respect for an “honest” gay man, rather than a “closeted” gay man. Personally, I respect both. But I can tell you in all truth…walk out of it. It’s hard in the beginning, but it gets awesome in the end.
For today’s post, I figured that I would tell my own personal coming out story. I mean, why not? It’s not like “Joe” has always been gay. For a while there, I was the most effeminate stud on the block. I always had a girlfriend. In fact, I had one for 4 years that I never went down on. Now, you show ME an example of a straight guy that could have a girlfriend for 4 years, yet never do the nasty. I’m that good.
Yeah that’s right…I’m big on conversation. And clue to all you straight men out there…get a talkin or get a walkin.
I always knew that something was up with me. When I was in 8th grade, I was shocked to discover that my dick got hard and big every time that I thought about Arnold Schwarzenegger. Yet, then I would think about my girlfriend Jackie and nothing. But then Arnold and SOMETHING. But then Jackie and nothing.
Then I hit 9th grade. I looked at my parents’ Joy of Sex book in order to learn the technique of masturbation. G-d, I tried for hours and nothing. I would raise my ass in the air just like the pictures and I just couldn’t figure out what an orgasm was. Then one day, I’m doing my “technique” while watching Gilad: Bodies in Motion and I just exploded. I remember standing in my family room and jerking my dick and screaming at the top of my lungs when that weird sticky mucus came out. OMG…this was masturbation. And OMG…this was Gilad: Bodies in Motion.
Over the years I learned that personal pleasure was related to muscle men and social acceptance was related to tit touching and pussy fingering. It’s what was expected of me and it’s what I did. Although I gotta tell you, the inside of a vagina does for me now what it did for me then. NIGHTMARE OF MY EXISTENCE. I just don’t understand anything on the inside of my body and vaginas seem too open and fleshy to have a penis in there. Won’t you get an infection? And barf…let’s not talk about yeasties. That shit truly turns my dick inside out.
The years went by and when I was 20, I had my first gay experience. It was awkward and mean and I was made to feel like it was an ugly thing. “We can jerk off together and you can jerk me off if you want, but don’t try to kiss me”. Everything that I had previously believed about gay men was coming true. We’re all a bunch of faggots that don’t deserve love. We only deserve back corner blow jobs and relationships with guys that have long time girlfriends. What a shame.
I’m 28 now and I’ve just walked out of a 5 year relationship. While I’ve not learned much more about gay sex (still an intercourse virgin at 28 ya’ll), I’ve learned how honest and real a gay relationship can be. I will always love my Paul and I will always look at my relationship with him as something that is…was…always will be…a completely necessary step in my growth process. It IS possible to love a gay man and have a literal and logistical relationship.
If it weren’t for my friend Kelly, I probably never would have come out. We were sitting at Nancy’s Coffee Shop one day, in Crossgates Mall, and she told me that she was a lesbian. I sipped my hot chocolate (never was one for coffee) and basically saw my life flash before my eyes. Here was a 17 year old girl telling me that she was strong enough to be a lesbian, yet I was a 20 year old guy believing that I would eventually find the right girl.
I thought about what she said and I did the only natural thing. I went back to college and told the only girl I’ve ever been truly in love with that I was gay.
That was a fun day for Miss Rita and me.
Rita is essentially the first girl I ever came out to and Rita is the first girl that I ever struggled through it with. Within days I came out to Kelly as well and my history just kind of repeats itself after that.
Why is it that gay men can admit they’re homosexual, yet they can’t admit they’re gay? Why is it that I joke with my straight friends about feminine guys, yet I turn around and flame out myself? Why is it that I can’t look at any videotapes from when I was younger, because I’m embarrassed of my true self?
National Coming Out Day is one of the FEW days of the year when I’m actually proud of who I am. I walk around and think…I’m gay and I’m fucking happy with it. And you know why? Because I get a “holiday”, that no one recognizes, but still exists, and makes me feel like a real live, respectable, human being.
So I say to you.
Coming out of the closet is an activity that I do on a daily basis. I question my own “kind”, I put on the masculine voice, I pretend that I don’t have an affinity to Broadway musical soundtracks.
But on October 11th, I rush immediately home to work on a post that will remind me why I’m happy being Joe. Why I’m happy being gay.
This is my destiny. And I’ve chosen to accept the painful journey that goes along with it.
