esrosedotblog

IF THE SHOE FITS

This is pretty good.

The Best Little Boy in the World—That's Me

And me.

When Andrew Tobias' book came out a lot of us identified immediately.

This guy's story is a lot like mine.

Growing up queer is not easy. I knew when I was four. Or, I should say, I knew something.

I adored other little boys especially at the beach and in intimate situations like sleep overs. I remember the moment in time when Dick Higbee and I got our feet wet and my mother made us take our shoes off and go barefoot. Zing.

I wasn't much interested in dolls. But I was not at all interested in hunting, fishing, sports (either watching or doing) or any other "boy" things. All cultural tags.

Later I enjoyed watching sports, wrestling, track, swimming, because the boys/men took their clothes off to do the sport.

I caught on that I was different from my Dad. I scared him. He backed off. He removed a lot of his touching. Of course, that increased the yearning.

I can honestly say that I had no friends without the spark to it.

But. How to hide this? Be smart. Or act it. Be a brain. Be precocious. My mouth kept me out of fights. Often got me into them too but I could defend myself with the verbal barb.

I excelled, deflected attention from that thing, almost unconsciously. I cultivated my iconoclasm and my introversion.

I went to college and within weeks was taking afternoon showers at the campus pool with another kid like me. Awakenings ensued. But it was hard to have a relationship. As it happens, I now know that almost all of my college friends were gay.

I couldn't face being out out even though I was now a young man with some experience so I got married. And had kids.

I am very happy that I did. My life, as it turns out, has been full of gifts as a direct result of being the best little boy.

Eventually, of course, it all fell apart. A house divided will not stand.

Brick by brick, sometimes as a collapse, I took the hidden part of me and brought it to the surface.

I came out, I got an adolescence (in my late thirties), a met some nice men and finally turned that skill of meeting, being comfortable with myself into a gay life. I got a husband. One who could even be a kind of step father to my kids.

It is sad that people along the way got hurt. This hiding hurt me too. But the payoff has been enormous. Finally I am a fallible male human being who desires the complete company of other male humans.

The hardest part of coming out is coming out to ones self.

The over achieving? Not sorry about that. I built a business, made some money, got a professional reputation, wrote a book or two. Nice.

Oh. Later in life I got to be something of a jock too. A runner. I competed. I went to the gym. Still go. It kills me that right now I am banned from working out because of my urological "condition". This will pass and I will go back to my gym rat friends some of whom happen to be straight.

If, in the unlikely possibility that you are just like me and this guy in the article, take courage. Sooner or later you will reach the same point and it will be all right. Sooner is better though.

One caveat. A lot of things a homosexual young man fears, he fears appropriately. The family, the co-workers, the community are not going to break out into cheers for a gay man breaking out. Some will be angry. Others will try to harm you. Some will cut you off, never to be seen again.

Too bad. Can't be helped. The way of the world.

Somebody will not like you and will be your enemy for something. Let it be the real you and not some "idea" of who you are.

You will be making a lot of new friends. And some of them will be happy to sleep and play with you too. Not a fringe benefit incidentally. Years of doing without can be compensated. Live and learn.

Labels: coming out, gay liberation, gay life