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.

To Become What I Became?

I used to be attracted to a certain type of man -- masculine and confident, with facial hair, a hairy chest, and a little bit of a rough side. Unfortunately, that type of man was not attracted to me. This perplexed me, as I was attractive, grounded, and an all around nice guy. I went to the bars where specimens of this type of man hung out, but I never got noticed, never got approached. Then someone told me, "To get what you want, you have to become what you want." This intrigued me, and being young enough to not have a real sense of who I was, I took this advice to heart. I changed my look from innocent college boy, to a more masculine, adult, sexy man. I changed my wardrobe. I changed my behavior. I changed the way I interacted with others when I visited the places where this type of man frequented. I had become a new man. The change was apparently more than I had realized, as a then recent ex questioned, "Wow, I was not your type at all, was I?"

The plan worked. I found myself having one night stands, dates, friendships and relationships with this type of man. I had become the man that I wanted, and this was what I attracted.

Time passed and I settled into a more relaxed version of the man I had become. I ended up in a long-term relationship with a man that embodied some of the characteristics that I had become used to, but ,in essence, was quite different, more "mainstream." I remained on this mainstream side of the fence for twelve years. When the relationship ended last year, I found myself in the unique situation of not having any real "type" that I was attracted to. I found that I was attracted to many different types, shapes, and looks of man. Recently, however, I have found myself looking at a particular type of man and saying to myself, "Wow..." Apparently I do have a type after all. Surprisingly, or maybe not so surprisingly, this type seems to be the one I had become all those years ago. And surprisingly -- or not so surprisingly -- that type of man is eluding me once again...

There is the thought that I could once again become what I became years ago. There are still traces of that man -- the masculinity and confidence, though the facial hair has disappeared. My dress has segued into a more sophisticated style, as I opt to shop at Banana Republic these days. However, it would be easy to move back into that old person I used to be -- a slight change in dress, attitude, venue, a few more days of stubble. After losing my identity during the twelve years of my last relationship, I am prime to become someone else while I am in the process of discovering who I truly am. So the question seems to be, do I once again become what I became in order to get what I want..?

I am now at an age where I view the world differently. My priorities have changed. My ideals and dreams, desires and needs are different than they were when I was younger. Even now, as I am trying to discover who I am as a person, I am more confident in who I am and what I want to be than when I was younger. I can see the value of being a whole person, devoid of semblance to anyone else but myself.

My main track of thinking now is, "Why should I change who I am to become something that I am not to attract a man?" Do I want to be in a relationship with someone who is not attracted to me as I am now? If I need to become someone else to be with the type of man I want, is that type of man really for me? If I compromise myself to be happy, am I really happy?

The decision seems obvious. But I find myself in the same predicament I found myself in all those years ago -- the type of man I am really attracted to, the type I want to be with, doesn't know I exist. I smile at him...I speak to him...I try to converse with him...I flirt with him...but nothing. So, where does that leave me? How do I get this type of man's attention without changing who I am? Do I relegate myself to another type and accept that that my desired type is not for me...?

I subscribe to the belief that everything happens for a reason. Because of this belief, I realize that the universe has its plan for me. It has lined up my next partner, and has chosen when and where we will meet. But waiting for the universe to work its magic can be a bitch. Sometimes I want to give it a nudge...

Perhaps I can give it a little nudge. Maybe there's a minor solution, one that doesn't require me to drastically alter myself. Maybe I could adjust my dress in subtle ways that are still keeping true to my own style. Instead of Sketchers, maybe I could wear boots. Always wanted a pair, maybe now's the time to buy. Maybe I could start going to a few of the bars that I've wanted to try anyway, bars where these men hang out. Maybe I can reach out through my network of friends to have them introduce me to men who are "my type."

So, maybe I can make this happen, while still remaining myself. Maybe I can make it happen by revealing deeper shades of me. I may even find that as I am discovering who I am as a person, that who I am embodies many of the qualities I admire and desire in others. I may not need to change anything. Those things may have been a part of me all the time. They just needed to be rediscovered.

So, I will continue my journey of self-discovery. I will discover what elements of myself, my look, my personality are truly who I am. When I find me, perhaps I won't need to look for my type. Maybe then he will find me...

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The music that completes today's look is "Only When I Lose Myself" by Depeche Mode.

What Becomes a Man

I never had anyone to show me how to be a man.

My parents divorced when I was three years old. I only saw my father once after the divorce, when I was eight. I heard from him only once after that, at twenty-seven. I grew up never really missing having a father. I have always credited my mother with doing a superb job raising me so that I never really needed a father. I don't think I ever gave any thought to the fact that there was a presence missing from my life, an influence that should've been there, but for whatever reason, was not.

The first time I ever missed having a father was when I went away to college. I can remember my first night, in my dorm, crying to my new roommate, adrift because I had no idea how to act like a man. I was surrounded by a campus full of other men who, I assumed, had a fatherly influence and took away from that how to walk, talk, act, and be like a man. I was missing that experience. I felt lost. Not knowing how to act like a man is hard. Not knowing how to act like a man when you are gay is overwhelming. I struggled through, burying the fear and unknown -- as I had done with so many things in my young life -- until it was accepted and not thought about again. Until now...

So, here I am today, a 42 year old man. I know that I am a man. Everthing in my consciousness tells me that I am a man. But how did I get here? How did I become a man? What makes a man a man? Is it having reached the age of twenty-one? Is it having responsibility, a job, bills, others who depend on him? Is it self-awareness? Is it knowing that you are drastically different than the opposite sex? Or is it simply the basic biology of a male homo sapien - facial hair, chest hair, rugged features, a penis..? For me, up to now, I have just been accepting that I was a man because that's what I was told I am. I have never stopped to think about what exactly has made me a man, what has made me the man I am today.

I have recently begun a journey of self-awareness. I have been trying to discover who I am as a person. What activities do I enjoy? What do I require in those I call "friend?" Accepting the body that I have. Being able to admire what I see in the mirror. How I express myself as a person -- vocally, in writing, and in what is unspoken. Becoming comfortable in my own sexual skin, accepting what gives me pleasure, and allowing myself to ask for what I want to make me feel good. Knowing that I can stimulate a partner, mentally, physically, sexually. In this journey I am becoming to understand what makes this man a man.

This is what I know:

I have my beliefs. I believe that everything happens for a reason. I believe that karma exists. I belive that good can be found in everyone and in every situation, sometimes you just have to look closely to find it. I believe that there is may be a higher power, though I do not belive it was the one I was raised to believe in.

I have my needs. I need to be heard. I need to make a positive change in this world, no matter how small in may be. I need the company of friends, friends who accept me unconditionally for what, and who, I am. I need to accept myself, flaws and all. I need to keep close the traumatic things that have happened to me in life, because I now understand that without them I would not be who I am today. I need to feel wanted.

I have my desires. I desire to leave this world having made an impact that will be remembered. I desire to make a living as a writer. I desire to be the type of person who can go to the closet, pull out anything, put it on and leave the house feeling comfortable that I look good. I desire to have the self-acceptance and sense of self to not worry about what others think of me. I desire a partner that loves me unconditionally, allowing me to be my own person, but wanting me with him whenever possible. I desire to be asked for my autograph. I desire the winning lottery ticket (LOL!). I desire... to be desired.

I know that these things make me human. Do they make me a man? Well, these things are me, and I am a man. So, in part, yes. But I think that becoming, and being, a man is an ever-changing experience. What makes me a man today may make me more -- or less -- of a man tomorrow. The trick is discovering what it is in myself and my life that makes me the man I am, and how I can alter those things to make me a better man, and the man I want, and need, to be.

I have an idea of who this man is and who I need, and desire, him to be. As my journey of self-discovery progresses I hope to understand why I went through life without that male influence that could've made becoming a man easier. But as I stated earlier, I believe that everything happens for a reason. Maybe if I had had a father, I would never have had the opportunity I have now -- to discover myself and who I am. Maybe I would've been just as adrift having become a man the "traditional" way. Maybe I would still be questioning what makes a man a man.

All I can do now is take a deep breath and accept what I know this man to be. Then exhale and become the man I will be tomorrow...

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The music that completes today's look: "Wild Is The Wind" by Nina Simone.