Don't Ask, Don't Tell...

Tonight I find myself more pensive than ever.  Things aren’t going so good in my life and for someone that I care for.  It’ actually made me think of how futile parents can be.  I have heard several different stories of coming out of the closet, from the really good ones with a fairy tale like ending to the ones that seem to be taken out of a nightmare. My story is still unwritten.

I remember the face my father made as I spoke the words out loud.  “I Don’t date girls dad...”  I remember saying. His eyes only got bigger and surprised he said with a nervous tone.  “It’s fine, what ever makes you happy.”  two days after that he moved out of the country and I haven’t had contact with him since.  That was two years ago.  I have never been open about any situation I might encounter in life.  I consider myself to be a very private individual.  My business is my own and no one else's.  

My mother on the other hand has never heard me say “I’m gay” she has an idea.  A mother always knows.  But I have never been clear with her because I’m afraid to shatter the image she has of me.  In a sick and twisted way she sees me as her hero.  The perfect son that never gave her any headaches.  She often asks if I’m dating any girls.  I simply say no.  Deep down inside she knows because of the arguments we have gotten into in the past.  One time she asked me straight out if the rumors she heard of me from one of my friends in high school were true.  Me being gay.  I never denied anything nor admitted it.  It sickened me to think that someone was making a part of my life I considered so private public.  

Here and there she notices certain behaviors of mine.  Certain triggers that puts her on alert and sends a signal as far as my sexual preference.  But to this day it is an unspoken agreement me and her seem to have.  Don’t ask don’t tell.  Lately something inside me is telling me it’s time to face it and come to terms with her.  I don’t fear for myself because I can take anything.  But I fear for my mom because I don’t know how she will take it upon herself.  At this point my story remains unclear.

On a side note I cannot come to terms with the stories I have heard.  A child is supposed to be a blessing.  Or so I’m told.  Talking to some friends and people I have come in contact with have shared their experiences coming out.  It’s shocking to hear that some have gotten kicked out.  threatened to the point of death, beaten, disowned and to some extent denying their existence.  

Whenever I hear or see heterosexual people voice their uneducated opinion about the gay community it sickens me because these very people are the ones causing all the suffering to their own children.  I have no problem by being gay.  I have no issue against anyone.  Weather you are straight, fat, skinny, or of certain ethnicity I don’t mind.  If I can live with you being who you are and what you are.  Why can’t you deal with what I am?

The structural society of the United States gives people licenses to drive, to hunt, to open a business, permits to travel, etc.  But it seems that any asshole can be a parent.  People such as the parents of certain acquaintances and friends should not even be allowed to exist in this world.  The stories are outrageous to a point where they make Nazis look like a bunch of amateurs.  There is no bigger sin than to hurt your own child.  it makes one think and question who the biggest sinner is?

Pitcher and Catcher... Let's Play Ball!

Based on my personal experiences over the past two years since the “closet outing” I found myself submerged into a world rather divided.  When I first realized the concept of being “gay” I thought it would only categorize me into basically a guy liking another guy.  But instead I found myself putting the pieces of a puzzle together.  Terms such as: top, bottom, versatile, power bottom, vers-top, vers-bottom, masculine, effeminate, bear, cub, and twink were merely the beginning of my search for self identity.  I mean it was clear to me that I was simply a young male attracted to other males, and yet I never felt more intrigued by all the sub levels of gayness. 

The first three were pretty much clear since day one.  (top, versatile and bottom) basically just translated into: pitcher, sandwich and catcher.  But the rest were such a confusing topic I found myself a little more lost than before.  If one is young and thing one is a twink, if one is hairy and big one is a bear and if one so happens to be feminine as far as one’s mannerisms goes then most likely one will be categorized as power bottom.

I came to call it the levels of gay...  which so happens to be from 1 to Ellen...

Masculine- the term masculine only refers to someone possessing typical characteristics of a man.  Now this can be tricky because I can say that at first glance a guy might look masculine; broad, muscular, chiseled face, a bit hairy and sharp features but once this gay man acts it can be a complete opposite with his mannerisms. I believe masculinity to be perhaps the most attractive feature in a man.  Personally I say to myself that if I wanted someone girly I would be with a girl...  Although I’ve found myself cheat this rule plenty of times.  But it happens to be a matter of personal choice.  Talking to many of my friends so happens that they get aroused over effeminate behavior.

it is often believed that a masculine man in the full context of the word will most likely to be a “top” in a relationship.  In many cases it so happens to be true but masculinity or femininity has nothing to do with sexual position preference.  Femininity in a man can often be mistaken and immediately categorized as bottom.  Don’t we have enough labels already?

I believe sexuality to be perhaps the most interesting thing in the human parameters because as a culture we make it so deep and full of meaning and yet it can also be completely meaningless and satirized.  As we grow we are taught about sex, everything in western modern culture revolves around sex and we don’t even know it.  We are taught that is the most precious and beautiful almost spiritual thing in the world.  But also we are taught to reprimand such feelings.  No one really knows what it is like to suddenly realize you like the same sex.  And because we are taught about heterosexual encounters once one realizes one happens to be gay more questions arouse and fear.

Sex can be the most uplifting feeling and the turning point in a relationship.  Or it can simply be a physical act that can relieve even the most stubborn level of stress.  But weather you are the pitcher or catcher in a game of ball in the end it is no ones fucking business but yours and your parter.  weather steady or a different one every other night.

As I stated before even the gay bars and clubs of Los Angeles seem to be divided and attract the attention of the different “gays” Our preferences have divided a community who so happens to only claim unity at the several Pride events across california and the nation.

Dating... and Grinding?

As my transformation continued and turned me into the man I am today certain tools helped along the process whenever I wanted to date.  Whenever my friends and I ventured into the clubs and bars, I found myself approaching guys which in turn either they politely declined my dancing invitation or just turned around without a single word.  Then my friend Vic happened to say one day “why don’t you use the app I used when I had my iPhone?”  I looked at him puzzled.  He smiled and said “Grindr!!”  and that was just the beginning of all my troubles.

Nowadays technology has opened the door to many things; from shopping online, to banking, to video calling and for a while now, dating.  People may laugh and say “I could never try that!” For the gay community the gateway of online dating is not only safer but in reality its child's play.  Apps and websites such as: Grindr, Adam 4 Adam, Scruff, Jack’d and POF (Plenty Of Fish) provide not only a quick way to contact any cutie that might pop up on ones vicinity but a safe keep as well.  Like most gay men I faced certain insecurities and when guys turned me down at the club or at a bar because of the way I looked and in the end it was taking a tow on my self esteem.  These websites provided me with a virtual wall I needed that was both safe and easy to use.

On an app or a dating site there is the risk of rejection but it’s so much simpler than some sharp words spat at ones face.  The only thing to guide you is a brief description of the person, a few lines, and a picture.  The rest is up to luck.  I call it “fishing” because it is the same as casting a line and see what bites.  I never dared to try a more formal website for online dating other than “Grindr” the app suggested by my friend, which conveniently I was able to check wherever I went.  Other sites required certain fees I was more than cheap to pay.  After all why should one pay to find love? Right?  In the beginning I had no luck, only the uglies would dare to say hi, but it was definitely a world full of possibilities.  My picture looked exactly as I was in person and it was not only until after the transformation that more guys started to send messages.

Something odd caught my attention.  You see my intentions were purely and utterly innocent.  I had never been with a guy before other than make out and touch a little here and there.  I was a 21 year old gay virgin, a latte bloomer and the idea of sexual intercourse with a guy made me both insecure and nervous.  Terms such as “DTF, Hook up” and questions such as “what are you into?” or “Are you top or bottom?”  were a shock to me.  I had no idea how to respond.  I had no idea what I was and did it even matter?  I mean I was only using these apps to meet guys go on a date and find prince charming.  Sadly this is not how everyone thought of it.  Apps such as these are a gateway to easy sex and casual encounters.  Men saw me as a cute piece of fresh meat ready to be devoured.

I met a few others who like me were only looking for someone to talk to.  My circle of friends grew and the number of facebook friends rose like never before.  I decided to meet the ones that could keep a decent conversation and found them to be no more than awesome friends who to this day I still keep in contact with.  We would start flirting here and there but as we shared more with each other a bond of friendship developed and the attraction became a thing of the past.  I had my share of good encounters and others that simply ended in disaster.

I must admit that my hunger for attention was never satisfied on this app.  I was determined to find “the one” an imaginary man that only existed in the deepest confinements of my mind.  I imagined meeting the perfect guy.  I guess we all have an idea of what this might be.  The ideal man is only made of the same material as dreams.  I grew tired of waiting for something good to come and finally gave up to my biological needs and found myself doing what the stereotypical grind seemed to do.

Dating is harder than I thought, at times I’ve thought I nailed it and got sprung on a guy more than once.  All to fill in the void. At this point I guess I should have given up on these sites and although my intentions are only to chat nowadays I must admit I feel almost a necessity to just open an app and see who I can find.  Read the stupid comments people leave and witness how thirsty and hungry for sex these plastic dolls are.

Lance Who?

Today as I listen to some Pulina Rubio and browse online for perhaps some inspiration to keep on writing this, the thoughts of the weekend came by.  I went out two nights in a row and both were more fun than I could possibly imagine.  On friday my friend Vic and I decided to hit the west side of town and have a few drinks.  Much like the heterosexual world the plastic gay world also has its levels and hierarchies.

It’s rather odd and funny to categorize the gay world because throughout our lives the gay community tries to escape the labels that follow us as we grow.  Every gay man can relate to being called a fag, homo, little girl, nancy boy and in my case, what I got for being hispanic, puto or maricon.  Society teaches us to label, you are pretty if you are tall and thin and you are a pig if you got a few pounds on you.  In the gay world a double standard applies simply because in general, gay men tend to criticize what ever we see because most of us still feel uncomfortable with who we are.

If you like to party and have a great time with friends West Hollywood is the place to be.  This side of town is as plastic as L.A. can get.  Like a small little town built out of doll houses where dozens of gay bars are next to each other and yet clearly define the different ramifications of this small community.  Seems as if going back to high school and walking into the cafeteria with your tray in hand and you stare in awe feeling both excited and lost.  You got your jocks, the preps, the geeks, the freshmen, the goths and the losers siting at their exclusive tables.  West Hollywood is just like that except that now you got your bears, twinks, papis, gaysians, fem-boys and power bottoms and the sugar daddies.  Only this time it is not high school but a rather glamorous version where all the gays battle for their title of top Queen Bitch.

I you like the young and trendy you got Rage.  Get them while they are fresh.  Get them before the hair does!  If you are latino and just feel like gathering with friends and have a good time drinking as you listen to the most upbeat gay theme songs then Fiesta cantina is the way to go.  Like its name its always a party in there.  The older, mostly caucasian, crowd gathers at Micky's and stare at the strangers passing by the side walk.  Forgot to mention that this is perhaps the most popular of all because of the different themes at different nights and the go-go boys are willing to give a little more than just a tease if you happen to have the right number of bills in hand.  But if you have the money, the looks and the desire for a small dance floor overpowered by loud speakers and delightful go-go dancers, walk down the street turn at the corner and find the Abbey.  If you are lucky a special famous guest might stop by for a drink or two. No joke.  (I saw Lance bass former N*Sync member and his boyfriend one time.)

At the different spots you can distinguish immediately who is there for fun and who is there to take somebody home.  Just like high school dress a bit different and either you fit in or will be stared at.  Depending on your attire and the way you dance that’s the kind of guys you will attract.  So how is it to be gay in Los Angeles?  I can tell you this... it is way harder than it seems.  It’s all about plastic.

Fresh Meat... Mmm Meat!

Being a 23 year old gay male in Los Angeles has its advantages and disadvantages.  On the up side, being young means “fresh meat” wherever I go.  I see guys look at me whenever I go out and it feels great.  It is nice to feel wanted once in a while after feeling like the ugly ducky for so long.  On the down side, it means that no one past the age of 25 takes me seriously.  I mean even though I’m young, responsible have a car, a job and have my goals and mind set does not necessarily put me at par with the guys I come to like.

For some reason or another I seem to only meet guys who happen to be older than me.  At first I thought that if I met someone older it would mean meeting someone mature and with similar life goals such as my own.  Time and again I have been proven wrong.  An older man does not necessarily have his life set.  I have encountered everything from middle age crisis men, to “I still live at home.”  29 year olds.  To “I want all the benefits of a relationship except for the title.”  Kind of person.  Frankly the more I think of it the more tired I feel towards trying to make it work.

Also it is important to mention the insecurities that come reflected by the age difference.  Sometimes it has been me the one who feels threatened by a guy’s age.  I have met a few individuals who are living the life I want to have and a little green monster seems to only grow more when this happens.  Older men have experienced more.  Weather it is traveling across the world, have a great job and way better economic stability to simply having it all and feel comfortable with what they have and never moving forward.  And then there has been plenty of times when it’s not me but them who seem to have bigger issues.  Middle age crisis, depression, immaturity and at some points addictions of some sort.  If you think older men have less baggage... think again.  Many times I have been told “ you are young you could have anyone you want.  Why me?”  

I have dated for quite some time.  Regrettably for the past two years I became a serial dater.  What can I say? I’m social, I’m young and I’m fun.  If meeting guys and going out a couple of times makes me a whore, so be it.  I’ll wear the tittle proudly.  But since Roger all I seemed to do was to set my hopes high on every guy I met and in the end I would only feel more alone than before.  The need for attention and affection only dragged me deeply into a dark hole.  Along this road a few great guys have come my way but in the end my heart just takes another beating.  Now something has changed... I feel tired, done, expired.  I feel lazy into putting an effort to get to know someone and date.  It has cost me both time and money that I will never get back.  I am no more happy than I was three years ago, only more experienced.

So what does it mean to be young in the eyes of other gay men?  It means that you can be a whore and no one can say anything about it because you are young and you are allowed to experience and have fun.  I hate it when guys say this to me because if I wanted to be a real slut I would.  But at the time I wanted something steady, something I missed, something that would fill me up and make me happy.  Perhaps it is just time to focus on what I want out of life rather than what I want in a guy.

Takes Cockiness and Persuasion to Melt My Plastic Heart

it was november 2011 and my small circle of friends seemed to grow as the nights out seemed to be more and more frequent.  The guy that had asked for my number months before was now a thing of the past.  A topic better saved for another time.

This time my adventures had taken me to Long beach, a small two story bar, in pictures it look decent, dark and open to major possibilities.  I was upset because my relationship with this one guy (Chris) had never progressed so I ended it.  This time I was gonna have fun regardless of the hurt.  I was there for my friend and no one else.

The music and the alcohol led me by the had to perhaps one of the most interesting nights of that year. The new Image i portrayed and the change in attitude and self respect were making me more plastic by the minute. 

My friend Vic and I have an unspoken game in which we check out guys and debate who is hotter for who.  It is something we do only for innocent fun.  along with talking major crap about each other.  So we see a group of guys coming into the bar and immediately our hungry eyes focused on them.  “Comadre! I like the tall one for you!”  said Vic.  I laughed.  Yes, the tall one as he mentioned was definitely quite the looker.  

I guess at this point I should describe my type.  I like hispanic men who have that urban kind of style.  In the gay world are known as papis and thugs.  But most importantly I like a guy that knows how to carry himself.  posture, clothing, skin, teeth, hair and mannerisms are the first things my brain takes notice. Confidence is the sexiest thing a man can have.

This boy was tall.  Taller than me and I’m 6 foot one.  I walked across the small dance floor to the closest restroom and it was then when I felt a hand grabbing my shirt, and as i pulled away the same hand grabbed mine. it was the tall boy I had just been staring at a few minutes before. The need to pee was greater than my need for a boy so I left him there.  When I came back to look for my friends this guy grabbed my hand once more and pulled me to dance with him.

That is how I met Roger the boy that would break my heart for the first time.  We dated for a brief time.  I have seen him a few times since then.  I’m over him.  And when I look at him I ask myself what the fuck was I thinking?

I bet all of us have taken a look at an ex and wonder the same thing.  How could I have possibly like that person? right? 

My thirst for attention led me to believe every lie he told.  Every sweet word he said melted my heart a little more and made me soft.  I was only 21 and had never been in love and for the very first time someone was giving me attention.  Affection. Love?  My infatuation was so big on this guy that I even left to Vegas with him.  Not even knowing a thing or two about him.  I simply got the little money I could get, packed my bags, kissed mom and left...

I didn’t realized what I had just gotten myself into until the second night out in Vegas where in the limo ride to the club Roger offered me a line of cocaine.  I panicked.  250 miles away from home I realized the guy I came to like, came to care for and even loved for a second was a drug addict... 

I love Los Angeles. I love Hollywood. They're beautiful. Everybody's plastic, but I love plastic. I want to be plastic. -Andy Warhole-

As I have mentioned before I live in Los Angeles a city that is all about fashion, money and who looks the best as one does the runway in the street.  I confess to have certain self esteem issues which to this day I battle constantly.  I mean who doesn’t?  everyone has at one point thought about changing something about themselves.

I grew up being made fun of.  I was the chubby nerdy kid with glasses and a cute dimpled smile.  People made fun of me for the way I spoke and most of the times because I played no sports and pretty much sucked at every physical activity I tried.  Which brings me to one of the most interesting times of my life.  after coming out of the closet and checking out every gay club in town I noticed that men really didn’t look at me the way I looked at them.  I was once again the chubby, nerdy kid with a dimpled smile.  I was shocked to see that to some I even seemed repulsive.

I’m not gonna sugar coat it for anyone.  Gay men are bitches... gay men are mean lean plastic ken dolls ready to cut anyone with sharp words.  I found myself in the middle of a world I did not understand.  A marvelous plastic world I desperately wanted to belong to.  I remember spending the little money I had every weekend on an outfit I would never wear to the same spot twice.  I remember little by little becoming a little more concerned about the way I looked rather than school or my passion for art. 

The swan... I remember planning everything along one of my closest friends and my cousin.(Albert)  the goal was to slim down and drastically change my image. from style of clothing to hairstyle to even certain mannerisms.  I looked for days at pictures online of famous actors, singers and even sports figures but no one quite fit the image I wanted to portray.  I was never daring enough to cut my hair, pierce my ears, get a tattoo, wear baggy clothing or even tight clothing.  I was a deteriorated blank canvas forgotten in a corner.

I found my inspiration one day as I looked online.  to this day I can’t recall how exactly I came across the image of a major Canadian R&B singer.  His style was exactly what I had in mind.  The cute hispanic bad boy with a baby face.  As time went by I dropped weight by methods a little more than unorthodox.  My clothes changed from simple T-shirts and jeans to elaborate urban inspired outfits.  Never replicated.  only inspired by Danny Fernandes.  

The day the hair came off... If you look at a picture of me before and after you could tell the major difference in my looks.  sometimes I look in the mirror and astounded remember how much I have changed.  I always had a messy hairstyle that to me seemed as fashionable as my minimal concept of personal image.  I had what i came to call a bad attempt to a faux-hawk. 

the barbershop in town most popular among men according to yelp was only a few miles away from my cousins house and the courage in me to drastically change only led me to 20 minutes of a clipper running over my head. I had taken down 2 inches of hair down to 1/4th of an inch. I had never had hair that short before.

that night my friends and cousins went out to the same club where I had kissed that man.  I looked good.  A few pounds over now that I look at pictures but none the less good.  I was finally shinny.  Hard.  Finally plastic.  I remember the faces that once looked at me with a sense of repugnance and now they curiously stared at the new fresh meat in the club.  I have forgotten now what was exactly what I wanted to accomplish other than maybe a guy ask me out on a date.  everyone stared and smiled but none were daring enough to approach me and ask for my number.  Until alone, I walked out to the patio and a cute, tall, dark and handsome guy said hi.  I had done it.  I had actually caught someones attention.  I loved it.  Suddenly the hunger for acceptance was satisfied and the thirst for attention quenched.

This is For Starters...

The story goes a little bit like this...

Being a foreigner living in Los Angles and growing up in a very conservative family never seemed to fit right with who I wanted to be.  But this is not about my life growing up, this is not about the hardships i had to overcome to get me where I'm at, but mostly is about a personal discovery, which for some time I have been wanted to share.

I guess you could say everything started in my third year of high school.  I had just broken up with my girlfriend at the time and I was trying something new.  I have never been much of an athlete but the one physical thing Im good at is swimming.  So I gave it a shot.  I joined the swim team and it was here where everything changed.  During this year I felt liberated as if for the first time I belonged to something bigger the myself.  As if for the first time I knew who I was.

It was here when I felt curious about the same sex.  never in my life did I ever think that maybe I was gay and I just wasn't ready to face it. I started to notice myself checking out guys a little more each day and playing games in my mind about who was cutter. I must admit it was both thrilling and disappointing to notice myself doing this.  I feared for what other people might think.  I feared for the things my parents would say.  I guess I just feared because I really didn't know what was going on inside me.

The years passed and living alone after high school and attending college made me mature a little bit more.  I discovered new talents and new horizons.  But something was still missing. At this point I fantazized about men each day and girls became a thing of the past.  But still I remained in the closet a bit more.  I just wasn't ready.

I turned 21 in the winter and one of my cousins turned 25 in the summer of that year and we were going to celebrate at a club for the very first time all of us together.  What I didn't know was that we were attending a very famous gay club among the community.  Finally the day came and my cousins told me where we were going and my heart sank. I knew that a little alcohol and a guy's cute smile would mean some kind of trouble for myself. 

I must admit I was shocked to see so many men with the same sexual preference gathered together and openly.  My eyes gazed at the many faces I would eventually meet and to be honest I caught myself staring at two or more during the night.  But my family and friends didn't know about me.  I myself did not want to face the gay in me.  So I acted cool, I remained a little introverted throughout the night until the shots of tequila affected my judgement...

I disappeared away from my friends and family for some time and suddenly in the middle of the dark and flashing lights and the music something inside me took over and for the first time in my life I dared to be myself despite anything that ever held me back.  

I noticed him in the middle of the dance floor.  Tall, dark and handsome, or at least he seemed to be, all this and more, definitely older, way older, but with a charm that hypnotized me and pulled me to him.  there in the middle of the dance floor we moved to the same rhythm, our bodies moved in unison and as we got closer to each other his lips met mine...

I woke up the next morning nauseous, with a headache and with a terrible burden I couldn't seem to shake off no matter how hard I tried.  I had done it! I had actually went ahead and kissed a guy for the first time in my life! What scared me was it felt great, it felt natural and utterly simple.  I liked it.  

I remember my face in the mirror something that night had changed me for ever.  I pondered over the idea of confessing the nights account to someone... I mean it was at the tip of my tongue waiting to spill over.  My cousin was up first and to this day I still remember the nervous sound of my voice as I told him what happened.  He listened atentively with a smile on his face growing only bigger by the minute.

On a side note he is seven years older than me and to that day he was the only open gay member of the family so I felt like he would be the one who would be most understanding and supportive and Im glad to say that to this day he remains just like that.  Then my other cousin found out and she seemed in doubt. "Me" her cousin gay? She seemed to be a little shocked because she knew everything about me and I had never kept anything from her except that.

I guess that is it for starters all I know is that as time passes by I get closer to my goal and like anyone else I keep evolving.  I came to love myself the way I am and accept the things I cannot change. Not to mention the fact that I'm blessed because I have the support and comprehension of my family and friends and lets not forget their love as well.
stay tuned this ride isn't over yet.