Hate’s in the mind

What goes on in the mind of someone who’s so eaten up with hatred for gay people that they resort to killing someone they believe may be homosexual? Yesterday, Mark Malone was sentenced to 30 years in prison for murdering Jeff Akers in Walton-on-Thames, England in February of this year.  More on that story here.

Mr Malone had stabbed Mr Akers so deeply that the entire 8 inches of the knife used in the ferocious assault was embedded in his back, completely severing his eighth rib and puncturing his right lung. He staggered from the toilet where the attack occurred before collapsing.

I cannot comprehend the mindset capable of such savage brutality. It’s completely lost on me. At what point did the programming start which resulted in an act of such barbarous inhumanity, leaving one man dead and another rotting away in an institution not to mention the negative impact on the lives of those left behind who loved Mr Akers, not least his partner of 22 years, Mike Drew.

Was Mr Malone perhaps homosexual himself? They do say that those who have the greatest hatred for homosexuals could very likely be ‘that way’ themselves and are unable to deal with it. So, seeing people out there living the lives they are too cowardly to carve out for themselves, are seen as targets who are ‘flaunting’ their sexualities and therefore fair game to be vilified.

Looking closer at Mr Malone’s criminal past, it seems he had a history of violence against people he perceived to be gay. Where does all this anger come from though? Growing up, I often heard homophobic taunts in the playground from other kids and you’d hear it from teachers who wanted to ‘make a man out of you’ on the playing fields. What has manliness got to do with sexuality anyhow?

There is an assumption that homosexuals aren’t ‘real men’ but what does that mean? It’s like saying that all lesbians are butch, wear hiking boots, possess a toolkit, own every album by the Indigo Girls and strum acoustic guitars at all-women camps. The same kind of drivel surrounds gay men, who are perceived by many as being sissies who dress up as women and hang around public lavatories soliciting other men for anonymous sex.

We need to educate people as to what being gay really means and we need to start early, in schools and through community-based initiatives. We need to show people that being gay is entirely to do with who you find attractive and are able to fall in love with. Love is rarely mentioned in conjuction with the lives of gay men, bisexuals and lesbians. By breaking down the misconceptions and preconceptions, we can foster a society based around acceptance of others and maybe, just maybe, incidences of this nature will stop happening altogether.

A website dedicated to Mr Akers can be seen here.

35!!!!!!!!!!!!

So, here I am.  I’m 35 and so what if I haven’t ticked all the boxes I ’should’ have by now in terms of life, love and all else besides.  I’ve been thinking about myself, my life, the way I dress and a load of different things and when I take out what others think and feel, I’m pretty okay with myself and how life’s panning out.

An old man in a new fleece!

Mum bought me a fleece jacket for my birthday from a department store in town yesterday and I love it.  It’s so cosy and warm it’s unreal.  So what if what I wear can hardly be termed haute couture, who wants to buy into all that superficial shit anyway?  I’m me and I like who I am, thank you very much.  35 isn’t so bad when all is said and done …. yes it is, it’s bloody awful!

The knowing look…

I’ve always been able to spot other gay people, whether they be men or women.  I know loads of gays who can’t tell and it amazes me.  I don’t know what it is about ‘us’ (getting all tribal here Ulla!) but I can tell.

Yesterday I was working about 30 miles away delivering leaflets around a village, for some extra pennies.  I had my media player on, was listening to the Rolling Stones and intermittently jerking my body along to the music and just getting on with the work really.  About halfway through the ‘drop’ (technical term there for a leafletting round!) I saw him.

A gay man!

He was walking towards me, he saw me and I saw him.  He kept his eyes straight ahead as did I until we were almost on top of one another (in my mind we already were but that’s another post entirely) then his eyes met mine, solidly and steadily and in that moment, two gay men were fully and completely aware of one another.

He knew I was, I knew he was and there was that point of connection.  I could smell him, taste his mouth, his sweat, his body underneath my fingers.  I felt a rush of tension and excitement course through my body.  For that brief moment we were locked into one another and then his gaze shifted as did mine and we went on our way.

The colleague who was walking behind me noticed nothing nor did my other colleague who was walking just ahead and who turned round to tell me something in that moment.  I glanced back to where he was and he did also.  Once again, there was eye contact.  A second or two longer than would be usual then he turned away as did I but I was still aware of him.

The way he walked. His full, sensuous and eminently kissable lips. The sound his boots made as they connected with the gravel. The way his sweater clung to his chest. The nape of his neck. Mmmmmmmm. That look, which means everything to a fellow gay person yet which remains elusive to just about everyone else is just beautiful.

We’re everywhere and it’s marvellous!

Anal hex….

What is it with straights and their obsession with anal sex?  This week I got my first pile or haemorrhoid if we’re being posh or bunch of grapes if we’re being gross!  To be fair, it was just the one and I got it from straining.  Yes gay people can strain, they don’t go round shitting themselves from too much bum play!

I happened to mention to a friend who also suffers with piles (and in fact has had them for many years) that I had a pile and he said “you’re gonna have to get used to that mate.”  I said “what do you mean?”  His reply “well, that’s to be expected in your game.”  “My game?”  “Yeah, you know being a bum boy and all!”  It was said in jest and there was no malice whatoever but there is this assumption that every gay man is out there stuffing things up their bums all the time.

What is that all about?????

Piles are caused by pressure exerted downwards not up so although having anal sex is hardly going to help if someone has a pre-existing issue with their dirtbox, it’s not going to be the primary cause.

I would imagine in sheer numbers, there are far more heterosexuals involved in anal play than gays.  I’ve heard that as many as 40% of gay men don’t have anal sex at all though as many as half of those have tried it and didn’t like it.  Does that ever get mentioned?  Hardly.  To some people, being a gay man is simply about bending over and taking it up the arse.  I don’t know what’s worse if I’m honest, the assumption or the preoccupation with it.

The rainbow’s bluer today…

Yesterday, I did something which surprised me.  I denied my sexuality to someone who really doesn’t have a problem with it out of a fear of them perhaps viewing me differently.

I was chatting away with them and the subject of gay people came up.  My friend said “I’m not being funny here Jon but you mention gays a lot.  Are you gay?”  He was smiling when he said it.  I suddenly felt totally ashamed and guilty.  I said “no but I’d like to be” and he laughed.  “I’ll have to write that down, that’s a great response” he replied.

I don’t know why I did it.

Well, I do know why I did it because it would change the dynamic between us on some levels and because he has spoken of people not coming out until later in life and how he can’t comprehend it at all because “we all know what we are don’t we Jon?”  Yes, it’s true.  I have always known of what I am but dealing with it has been another thing entirely.  Anyhow, the conversation changed and I was relieved but the feeling nagged away at me.

I got back home, Ulla was online and I spoke with her about it.  I was totally and utterly disgusted with myself, I felt like a complete letdown.  She told me not to be so hard on myself, that coming out and being comfortable with one’s sexuality is a process.  She’s right, it is.  What shocked me I suppose is how I not only denied it but wanted to push the whole thing away from me and kind of disown it.

I thought because I had done the Coming Out interview, had fantastic gay friends and in many ways had made peace with who I am that these awful moments were gone altogether.  Having spoken to someone the other day about just this, he said it’s hard to free yourself of all the negative ideas and opinions and that occasionally, there will be tough days.  He talked to me about Internalised Homophobia and how that plays a part in eating away at a positive gay self-image.  He’s right, it does.

My head’s in a bit of a spin at the moment and I don’t know where I’m at on some levels. I do know that I’m gay and in the main I’m happy and comfortable with it.  I just sometimes get the sense from wider society that because I’m homosexual my sexuality is in some ways inferior to heterosexuality because it’s not about anything more than intimacy and having fun!  How fucked up is that?  I need to stop thinking and playing things over and just get on with it.

Thanks for listening, I appreciate it.

Shattering myths….

Shortly after coming out earlier this year, I got chatting to a friend and he said “does this mean you’ll start being all camp and buying records by Kylie Minogue, going on pride marches and waving rainbow flags?”  I replied “why would I?”  He said “well, that’s what gay people do isn’t it?”  I was taken aback by this.  Is this how gays are perceived?

I don’t possess a single album by Kylie Minogue or Madge (as Madonna is affectionately known by her trillions of adoring gay fans) nor do I wish to because I don’t like that kind of music.  I do however like Blues, Prog Rock, Heavy Metal, Jazz, Folk and World Music among many other genres.  Does enjoying a meaty guitar solo pulled out of the bag by messrs Gary Moore or Joe Satriani make me any less queer than say dancing round the room to The Village People whilst vacuuming?

There are so many assumptions floating around out there about what constitutes being, in my case, a gay man.  Let’s get this next one out of the way as soon as we can.  I don’t like cabaret, musicals or show tunes! I feel ill when I hear Shirley Bassey’s voice coming out of the radio speakers at home and have to get up as soon as I can and switch it off.  I abhor the sweeter-than-sweet warblings of both Celine Dion and Barbra Streisand though I am able to appreciate how technically proficient both of them are, I’d just much rather not have to endure listening to them if I can help it.

I don’t cross-dress. I shouldn’t have to write this but again these are assumptions based on sexuality that a lot of people make.  British writer and doctor Vernon Coleman cross-dresses and argues that the majority of men who do enjoy wearing women’s clothes are in actual fact heterosexual.  Quite why being gay automatically means I would want to don a frock is beyond me.  Still, when the only exposure some people have of gay men is when they see them dressed as nuns at pride events or in stock video footage whenever a news story features us in some way, can’t really help.  Plus, one now well-known and cherished out gay tv presenter began his career dressing up as a woman and that only adds to the misconceptions.

I’m not effeminate.  When I told one person of my homosexuality, she looked me up and down and said “no you can’t be” and I replied that yes I was.  “No” she again said.  I responded “well, why can’t I be?”  Her answer was “well, you’re not limp-wristed are you?  Are you sure you’re not a bit Bi maybe?”  I said that no I wasn’t.  She looked at me puzzled.  There was then an awkward few moments while she adjusted to the news that standing in front of her was someone she knew, who wasn’t camping it up but was in fact a homosexual.  She still asks me periodically if I still feel I’m gay, I tell her that I am and she gives me the same disbelieving look.

I have known and met a lot of gay men who are affected in some way but I’ve met far more who are no different in their outward appearance and manner than heterosexuals.  Most of us, gay or straight, don’t fit the media profiles of the archetypal good-looking guy or gal anyway.  The simple fact is the vast majority of us are quite ordinary in every way and gay men and women are no different.  That doesn’t mean we can’t scrub up well when we want to but we’re just run-of-the-mill in reality and the only difference between us is who we fall in love with and find sexy!

This next one is a little trickier to reply to.  There is an assumption that one ‘becomes’ gay due to bad sexual experiences with the opposite sex.  There is of course an element of truth in this statement because the very nature of one’s homosexuality means any attempts to have sex with men/women (delete where applicable) is going to be fraught with frustrations. I have never had a good sexual experience with a woman but this hasn’t led me to want to be gay whatever that means, it has however clarified my own feelings regarding my sexuality.  I engaged in sex with women because I wanted familial and societal approval, not because it actually appealed to me.

I hope I’ve gone some ways to picking apart these frankly downright bizarre stereotypes and misconceptions.  I’m gay, that’s not because of a whole list of external variables which may or may not be true for whole swathes of society.  It’s by virtue of the fact I am sexually, emotionally and romantically attracted to men.  It’s as simple as that really.

Taking pride in who I am….

Ever since doing the interview about my sexuality which is featured in various places on the ‘net, I have felt an immense pride, not just within myself for finally being honest publicly about who I am, but in being gay.

When out and about, I notice gay people everywhere now, like I’ve acquired some hidden knowledge.  We seem to stand out like anaglyph images seen through those thin cardboard cyan and red 3D glasses which were given out free with cereal packets in my youth.

I may be walking through the town centre on a wet dreary afternoon and there are all these queer guys and girls, standing out in glorious technicolour.  They don’t know me and I don’t know them but we share an affinity, a community and I love that and for perhaps the first time ever, I feel honoured to be part of it as opposed to feeling apart from it.  It’s wonderful.

It’s weird though because I have never felt this emotion before.

I’ve always viewed my homosexuality as innate and random, so why feel pride in relation to it?  I mean, I’m hardly bursting with pride over being right-handed or having hazel eyes, two further attributes which I have no control over.

I don’t know why I feel as I do.  All I know is since taking the time to complete the survey, I’ve felt incredibly proud of my sexuality.  I’ve also found myself becoming quite emotional thinking about my life.  I’m sad for hiding who I am but I’m also happy because I no longer need to.

This thing which has hung over me, which has created such inner struggles and heartache, I now view as a gift.  Being gay isn’t a burden, it’s a freedom.  If you’d asked me before I talked to Ulla if I would change with regards being gay, I’d have had to think about it.  Ask me now and I’d say ‘NO WAY!‘

Going with the flow…

Earlier this week, I was in a village reasonably local to me conducting a traffic survey.  It was a back-breaking 12-hour shift and incredibly boring but we got two sizeable breaks and the money was good so it could have been worse.  I was there from 7am-7pm.  Luckily for me, I was situated near the shops and about 100 yards or so away was a public lavatory.  We had our first break at around 11am so the person I was working with and myself made our way to a little cafe and had a pot of tea between us.

The problem with drinking hot fluids on a very cold day is that it goes through you like a dose of salts and within 20 minutes or so I was heading to the urinals and again about 40 minutes after that and then twice more in the following hour and a half.  Our second break was around 4pm and yep, same thing happened again.  I found myself trudging off to the toilets only this time I wasn’t alone when I got there.

You know that feeling you get when you know something’s awry and you can’t work out why you think that?  I walked through the door and on the immediate right was the trough.  The sink was on my immediate left and there were two stalls further along on the right past the trough with a quite uninviting baby-changing facility on the wall opposite those.  The place absolutely reeked of the most acidic-smelling piss, the stench of shit not far behind in the olfactory stakes.

There were two men standing at either end of the trough.  It wasn’t a long urinal, there was really only enough room for one more person to fit between the people already there.  I personally didn’t fancy jostling to take a pee so went over to the first stall and as I did so, I noticed two sets of eyes following me.  I felt very uncomfortable indeed and because of that, found it difficult to actually go so by the time I’d undone my jeans, opened my fly, got the old chap out and managed to start urinating about a minute or so must have passed.

During this time, I heard no urine flowing in the trough next to me which I thought odd.  My initial reaction was that I was going to get attacked and robbed and this impeded my flow somewhat, it was coming out in dribbles even though I was desperate.  There was a strange silence next to me from the two men.  I could sense they were there but there was no sound whatsoever.  It was quite unnerving actually.  After what seemed like an age but in reality was probably no more than two minutes after I’d initially walked in, I finished.  I put everything away and walked back out.

The two men were still standing where they had been when I first saw them, they had their cocks out and could see they were grinning broadly.  They were half-turned to face me, their eyes boring a hole right through me.  It was then it dawned on me, these guys were there to play.  I felt no need to be there one second longer than I had to.  I washed my hands very quickly and got out of there.  As I did so, they both laughed and said something between themselves which I couldn’t make out.

I walked away and kept looking back but they didn’t emerge immediately, in fact it was nearly 20 minutes before they finally left and went their separate ways.  I was a little bit shaken up by it if I’m honest.  There was a sense of threat from them and what I can now see was an underlying sexual tension.  I don’t think they’d been there by accident, the toilet itself was more than likely a cottage and known for ‘homosexual activity.’

What surprised me was how brazen they were about it.  There was no way you could misconstrue their actions should you have chanced upon the place as I had, it doesn’t take 5 minutes to have a piss and even if it did, urine’s got to flow hasn’t it?  I’ve personally never had a problem with gay or bisexual men using public lavatories for sex and I don’t now.  What I’m a little uncomfortable with is the way I was made to feel by going in there.  It was an intimidating atmosphere.  I’m a gay man so it shouldn’t bother me right?  Wrong.

I can remember going to a bar in Brighton about 10 years or so ago with a gay pal who was just coming out.  It was called The Bulldog and men would rub themselves against you as you walked down to the toilets and that was a little disquieting at the time but I had made the decision to go into that environment so I couldn’t complain.  I hadn’t however chosen to go into that toilet with any motive other than needing to empty my bladder so it’s not unreasonable to be able to do that without being propositioned first.

It’s all about sex, baby!

It’s me again.  I entered into a discussion yesterday within a post I had written at Queerlife about Queer Chatrooms, where I decried the amount of sex-related talk that goes on in them.  The respondee (Graham) stated that being gay is ALL about sex and in a way he’s right, it is.  Announcing one’s homosexuality is stating the obvious, that you basically want to fuck someone of the same gender.

I got thinking about this.  When I looked in the mirror one morning while shaving and uttered those two immortal words to myself thus ending the charade once-and-for-all, in effect I was saying “I want to get naked with another guy.”  There’s no two ways around it is there?  I then wondered what people think of when they see or know someone who’s gay.  Let’s take someone who’s accepting of it right from the off.  Let’s say it’s a gal pal.  You tell her, she smiles and gives you a warm hug and the friendship gets taken immediately to a deeper, more intimate level.

You’re now sexual allies as well as the close friends you always were.  It’s all good.  You can discuss men as well as the usual raft of topics you had going to begin with.  You might meet on the bus coming home from work or in town and go off for a coffee and you’re now one of the girls, you giggle and it’s freer and easier around them.  Brilliant right?  Well, yeah it is.

What you’ve actually told this person, albeit in a semi-coded way, is that you want to get down-and-dirty with someone of your own gender.  You want the recipient of your sexual endeavours to possess a cock.  For someone as closeted as I have been, the reality of that can be quite daunting as you’re, in some ways, no longer the jovial friend who’s never had a girlfriend and seemed rather standoffish and perhaps a touch asexual in their demeanour.  You’re now a fully-fledged sexual being complete with lusts and passions relating to others.

After you’ve been out for a while, you can still smile inwardly at your “Being Gay Is Okay” magnet peering out at you from the refrigerator door, or wear your naff “I’m Not Gay But My Boyfriend Is” t-shirt at the local pride event while simultaneously waving your Rainbow flags and blowing your pink plastic whistles.  You can sing badly at karaoke down the local gay pub or club.  However, your statement of intent expressed outwardly to yourself then to others is clear and unequivocal … you want to drain your balls into someone who has a set of their own!!!!  Being gay is all about sex.

Thank you Graham xx

Coming out and staying out….

When I was contacted by the lovely Ulla (whom I feel I’ve known far longer than the month or so we’ve been in contact) to Do The Interview, I was aware that this would be made public and for just about the first time ever, I’ve felt perfectly at ease with this knowledge being ‘out there’ and have no problem with it at all.

There’s something definite about stating your intent with regards your sexuality and it being published, in whatever form that takes.  Yes I could have asked Ulla not to put it up or asked a little later for it to be taken down but even then I’d still made the leap from closet case to something else entirely.  It felt like an entire process was occurring.  There was, in a sense, no going back from that point on.  It really felt like I’d lifted the lid on an emotional Jack-In-A-Box, ie, better out than in.

I’ve come out before and I’ve always gone back into the closet and I’ve often wondered why.  I think partly because I made this being gay business into far more than it actually is.  Yeah so I dig guys but seriously it’s not all that, is it?  I still do the mundane things everyone else does in my day-to-day life, the only exception is that I am romantically/emotionally/sexually attracted to my own gender but in this day and age, loads of us are and we’re out there living it, so why worry at all?  If I chose to go back into the closet yet again, all I’d do is waste more time and this thing isn’t going to go away, so seriously what would be the point?

There are however differences in place this time.  The first and main difference is that for just about the first time ever I am perfectly comfortable with being gay, with fancying men.  Plus I no longer have those feelings of shame which kept me closeted for so long and I don’t know where those horrid fears have gone.  In the past coming out has been more to stem the mounting pressure taking place within me than actually being emotionally honest.  Another thing which is different is the fact I came out to myself to begin with.  In times gone by, I’ve come out to others and not to myself so it’s really little wonder that I ended up hiding out for as long as I have done.

Another big difference is the sheer quality of friends that I have around me this time, people who support me 100% and are enabling me to be who I am.  I’ve never had so many wonderful people in my life before.  Genuine true friends.  There’s not a single person that I don’t want to be there.  Maybe there is some truth in the old adage that you need to love yourself before you can truly be loved by others.  Today, I really value the person I am and this is mirrored by the quality of friends I have in my life.  I’m really very blessed.

So, I’m out and staying out.  I like the feeling of being able to be myself, to not have to lie, cheat and connive my way through life.  I can stand up and categorically state my preferences to the world without having to blur the edges.  Not everyone’s going to like it and I may end up losing so called friends and family members but that’s okay.  Why?  Because I like myself and the person I’m becoming.

I won’t apologise if that appears arrogant or self-centred, I have to be selfish where this is concerned.  I have to own what it is I’m feeling so I can move forward honestly, both internally and externally.  If anyone’s reading this and wonders what it’s like to no longer be closeted and afraid lest the truth somehow finds its way out, let me tell you that there’s no greater place and no better feeling.  Don’t just take my word for it, COME on OUT and see for yourself.