Beauty

A friend and I were reminiscing the other day about a few TV shows that we watched as kids. We were discussing "Wonder Woman," when I asked, do you remember "The Secrets of Isis?" He said, "I loved Isis!" Without hesitation I gushed, "I wanted to be Isis! I wanted to be Wonder Woman, too!" We laughed for a moment, then he said, "Isn't it interesting that gay boys want to be heroes like Wonder Woman and Isis, rather than Aquaman, or some other male superhero?" It made me wonder, why are so many icons for gay men women?

Growing up, I can vividly remember dangling a towel around my head, pretending it was long, luxurious locks of hair. I can remember wrapping my body in a blanket, imagining myself clothed in a form-fitting, stunning evening gown. When I was lucky enough, I would commandeer a pair of my mothers high heels and wear them around, proud of this gorgeous feminine creature that I had, in my mind, become. I did this with no shame, no deliberation, no remorse. It was natural for me. It was the exploration of my feminine side, the innate longing to understand the sense of femininity and beauty that lay inside of me.

Growing up, I left such things behind, slowly becoming more comfortable with the masculine side of my being. Yet, deep inside, I still help on to that desire to be beautiful.

I can remember as a young adult, specifically shunning anything typically "gay." Until my late twenties, I had never heard a Patsy Cline song. I refused to listen to her, as she was a stereotypically gay icon, and I did not want to allow myself the possibility of liking her. That would be expected of a gay man. Barbra Streisand? Ditto. Joan Crawford, Bette Midler, Cher -- any stereotypically gay icon I simply turned my eyes and ears to. Then one day, I thought, "Fuck it, let's see what all of the hype is about," and I listened to my first Patsy Cline song. I was mesmerized. Such an incredible voice. Such swooning emotion. She spoke to me...

Over the years, I discovered the talents of other gay icons, some intentionally, some by happenstance. Though my mind wanted to fight the attraction to them, my heart somehow overruled, and I became enthralled with these icons, as so many generations of gay men before me had done. What is it about these women that makes for such positive role models for gay men?

I think within all gay men is a desire to be beautiful. I don't mean in the purely physical sense (though, God knows, gay men have an almost obsessive need to be outwardly beautiful). I mean beauty in all it's forms. I think all gay boys -- growing up to be gay men -- have desire to have someone really see who they are, to accept them, unconditionally, for the beautiful creatures they are. We want to be recognized for our inner strength -- the fortitude for standing tall when everyone is making fun of us, ridiculing us, abusing us, or telling us we're wrong, worthless or going to hell. We want someone to see our humor -- our ability to laugh at not only ourselves, but at the small absurdities that make life delicious. We want someone to accept the desire that we have to be loved -- truly loved -- by someone that just happens to be of the same gender. We want someone to see our vulnerability, tears, weaknesses, successes, hurts, anger, spunk, giddiness, loyalty, romanticism, sensuousness, and affection. We want someone to see that light in our eyes that says. "I am what I am." We want someone to see our...beauty.

I think it is the characteristics that we want others to see in us that draws us to these women who seem to embody all that we want to be. If you look at any gay icon, you will see someone who has led a life that parallels that of a gay man -- self-awareness, self-doubt, success, criticism, standing tall in the face of adversity. These icons are deeply sure of themselves, their abilities, and of who they are, even when everyone around them is telling them to give up, or that they will fail, or that they are not as relevant as others around them. These icons die many figurative deaths, but they persevere. They are unflinching when they need to be, tender when they know to be, and invisible when they have to be. But regardless of what happens, these icons retain their dignity and their strength, and they radiate a light of self-assurance. They are...beautiful.

I cannot speak for all gay men, but I know that I do have the desire to have others see my beauty. I know who I am, what makes me the person that I am, and what it took to get me this far. I know that I have the ability to make others laugh. I have the ability to cry at the smallest thing that touches my heart. I can be outrageous, sensitive, smitten, and carefree. I can be strong, yet insecure. I can hold a friend who needs to be comforted, and can sink into anothers arms when I need to be embraced. I can fight when I need to, and I can back down when I am wrong. I have an unlimited capacity for love. And I can have my heart broken. All of these things make me beautiful. And I desire to have it be recognized. I want the world see all that I embody. I think it is this same desire that I share with other gay men.

We live vicariously through these amazing women, these icons, these beautiful creatures that speak for -- and through -- us. It is their beauty that we see in ourselves. It is our beauty that we see in them...

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The music that completes today's look is: whatever song makes you feel beautiful. Play it, listen to it, embrace it, feel beautiful.