I was a “late bloomer” and did not come out to my friends and family until I was in my mid twenties. For a long time, I had heard of “Gay Pride” much in the same fashion I had been taught to feel pride in my country, family history and accomplishments. To be honest, I did not know back then what this “Gay Pride” thing was because I had no context in which to define it.
Picture it, San Francisco, the summer of 1994. I had been “out” maybe a year. Some of my friends had taken me under their wing and introduced me to the gay world of the Bay Area. Being a preppy goodie-two-shoes, I had to learn to adapt. Quickly. The learning curve was fast and furious. They took me to gay restaurants, gay bars, gay bookstores, you name it. They would take anywhere the word gay was put in front of.
I leaned to wear “the uniform”. Back then it was blue jeans and white t shirt with black leather boots. Of course, being preppy, my boots were shinny, expensive and came from England. Back then I had a sense of fashion. My first boyfriend once dressed me in leather to “show me off”. I guess he wanted everyone to meet his “new catch” and have something more in common with me. I did it to make him happy, but deep inside I knew I could not keep it up. That was not who I was. I was, after all, a preppy goodie-two-shoes, except I had a mouth like a sailor given the right circumstances and the right amount of alcohol.
Back then some of my friends also smoked pot, although not a fact originally known to me. With them, I acquired my “gaydar”, that intuitive sense gay men have that aids them detect one of their own kind from miles away. Very amusing, funny and yes, disturbing...are some of the mating rituals in the gay community.
Growing up what I knew of the Gay world were the Drag Queen prostitutes on the town square. I would see them every Saturday night when my parents took me to get ice cream at the best Chinese – owned ice cream parlour in the city. They did make very much the best sorbets and Ice Creams I had ever tasted. But I digress. To this day, I remember those “ladies” on the town square and I knew I did not want to be like them. So I kept telling myself that if that was being gay was all about, I could not be that way. I wanted no part of that world.
Those crazy days in San Francisco were destructive and much as they were forming. I remember being taken to a leather club where men pissed collectively in a dark bathroom with a tub in the center of it. I remember thinking, what am I doing? This is not me. As a matter of fact, I wanted to end the whole thing right then and there.
Why do I have to label myself, I thought? Why do I need to look and act a certain way? Why do I have to conform to someone’s expectation of what being gay is? Outfits? Drugs? Pissing in a dark room? Leather? With time, I leaned to see the funny side of all this.
The outfits were nothing more than drag to me. To this day, when I see a very macho-acting, leather-wearing gay man, I shout out: Drag! And yes, I did drag a couple of times (the real thing) to much acclaim…but that is another story entirely and the subject for another posting. Yes, I was back then a big fan of Norma Desmond, the character created by Gloria Swanson in Billy Wilder’s Sunset Boulevard. I still have the outfit… If you get pleasure out of something and do not hurt anyone in the process, then so be it. Be yourself and take heart. Others feel the same way.
I am telling you this because none of those things gave me much pride on what or who I was. So what made me feel proud back then? It was the friendship, the camaraderie, the bond my friends and I had with each other. It was the fact that someone who a few years back had been in the same situation had taken me under their wing, much as a new bird learning to fly, and had taught me with care to value myself enough to fly on my own.
It was knowing that I had been with one of my employees until his last days on this earth before he died of AIDS. It was knowing that I made difference in his life. It was witnessing the love and commitment my friends Kelly and Jeffrey and Dawn and Amy felt and still feel for each other. It was knowing that if I fell, someone would be there to catch me, and that someday I would be able to “pay it forward.” It was the fact that I could be myself.
It was the fact that I could stand up to the establishment and the corporate world and show them that I was who I was and that in no way that interfered with my work ethics, my views on religion, or my drive to succeed or my family life.
It was the kindness showed to me by one of the biggest assholes I had ever worked for, who one day came into my office, shut the door and gifted me two books, that in his summation, I needed to read to help me “cope.” He too was an openly gay man and wanted me to know that if I fell in despair or needed a hand, he would also be there.
It was my sister who celebrated my life and accepted me as who I was and could care less of what the world thought of her baby brother. To her, I was still the best and most talented brother anyone could ever ask for. It was my parents seeing me through the though times and never failing to say “I love you” and “I am proud of you”, despite of their initial disapproval of the gay “lifestyle”. How I hate that word! It is not a lifestyle at all. It is who we are.
It is knowing that others have given their lives so that I can enjoy what I now have. It was witnessing the fight for justice and hearing the stories about Harvey Milk. It was seeing that amongst my beloved friends, there were no racial boundaries. We were all the same. And we loved each other.
To this day, though I have lost touch with some of those people from my past, I have the most sincere and heart felt-affection for them. Dean Foster, if someday you read this, this applies to you too. You were my rock many times and I had conversations with you I never had with any of my other friends, because in my estimation, you were also a preppy goodie-two-shoes that I could relate to.
It is knowing that my beloved and I have been together for over 10 years and that my love for him is greater today than yesterday. It is knowing that I have the confidence to want to become a parent. It has been seeing other gay and lesbian couples succeed as a partnership and as a family. It is knowing that I have been blessed with wonderful people in my life.
Sadly, I know that not many have been as lucky as me. Every time I hear about someone having been beaten to death (Mathew Sheppard), kicked from home, not being able to serve their country with dignity in the military, being harassed by so-called "people of God", being marginized at work, just because of who he or she is, it infuriates me.
On the first Gay Pride celebration I ever attended, the “Dikes on Bikes”, as it is customary in San Francisco, would announce the start of the parade with the roaring of their motorcycles, to the cheer and delight of the crowd. That day, I felt free to be myself and for the first time, I shed a tear of joy for being who I was, and knowing that my world was at crossroad and not at its end. To this day, when I hear a group of motorcycles roar at the start of a parade, I am immediately transported to that moment and my heart rejoices, and my eyes shed a tear. They shed a tear not because I am sad, but because I have lived and loved with my whole heart, because I honor those who came before me and who had to pay the price for what I now enjoy. It is my debt of gratitude.
Being gay does not define who I am. Neither does the color of my skin. My actions do, as do my ethics, my experiences, my friendships and my thoughts. No one chooses to be this way. We are born so.
I refuse to believe that “sexual preference” is a choice because it negates our soul. To me, humanity is nothing but a collection of souls that have chosen to manifest themselves in human form. To me and to countless others, we are merely energy that has transformed itself into who we are. What we choose to do with that energy is what defines us. It is how you affect ourselves and the world at large.
For these and may other reasons I do feel pride. Gay Pride. Of that, you can Rest Assured.
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