one step forward, two steps back

I’m looking at my phone, waiting for a reply. I was vulnerable, tried to meet up with the a guy I know we have a connection with.

Can we meet after 4? I called at 4. Benefit of doubt, there might be a good reason for not picking up.

I numb my brain, distract, some anime that I’m really not interested in. It’s convoluted, I don’t know what’s going on. Alone in my apartment, I always am. I don’t remember the last time someone else was here with me.

What the fuck? 6 o’clock. I hear japanese but I’m looking at my phone. A weight on my chest and neck, breath shallow. I don’t understand. What the hell are they talking about?

text message – really? A text message? I fucking called you over 2 hours ago, and you send a text message? I’m tired … blah blah … tomorrow?

coward! child! you’re not worth my time!

But I want this, his beard against my cheek, to sleep next to him, his snores disturbing my sleep.

You’re not good enough, what’s why he didn’t call you back. You’re only worth a text message. He doesn’t want to talk to you. Look at you, you’re scared.

Advertisements

Dawson’s Creek and Gay Male Representation in Media

I loved the US TV show Dawson’s Creek. It really was overly dramatic teenage tripe (read: that made me love the show even more), but 15 years ago, in the Season 3 finale, it showed primetime television’s first passionate kiss between 2 men. Even though it was a secondary plot arc in the series, this event had a huge impact on me, and solidified Dawson’s Creek as a seminal series of my adolescence. (Is there a pun there? Totally unintended.)

Between the ages of 15-18, the television series accompanied me through some emotionally turbulent, and even traumatic times. I had realised that I was attracted to men; I attended an all boys high school; I was closeted, having only come out to 3 people (1 of which was traumatic); I was marginalised for the perception of being gay. I don’t know if it was bullying, but it was continuous. Throw in the adolescent mood swings, hormones, and budding attraction to some classmates, and I got lonely teenage years.

Continue reading

What Is It To Be A Non-Practising *Insert Identity Here*?

Happy Mardi Gras!

I’m giving fair warning: this post may get a bit heavy and is NOT a post about being so-called “ex-gay”. Also, personally, I prefer the label/identity “same-sex attracted” rather than “gay”, but in this post I am using the term “gay” for ease.


If a rainbow zebra loses its stripes, is it still a zebra, or is it just a horse?

For me, this is not a rhetorical question, though it seems like it should be. And it is making me feel anxious and my mood low. The Mardi Gras Festival and Parade is on in Sydney right now. I usually (and think that I should) feel PRIDE in my own difference, PRIDE in being a part of the LGBTQI+ community. But I feel like I’ve lost my rainbow stripes, my gay cred, my membership expired from lack of use.

Maybe a false assumption, but a huge part of gay identity is a sexual identity: being or wanting to be in a gay relationship, having or wanting to have gay sex. My body doesn’t demand another’s sexual touch, doesn’t crave and search for opportunities for sex. Fear obscures my desire of being in an emotional gay relationship. And this situation is not new. It has been many moons since I have acted on a sexual impulse.

Walking through the Fair Day event, through sun, glitter, rainbows and skin, I did not feel a part of the community. I felt alone and apart. Projections I’m sure, but I saw the normal social practice of people wanting and creating intimate emotional relationships. I sensed in others the want to get laid. I remember a time that I did want gay stuff, so I’m not asexual, but that spark of desire has gone missing. The crucial aspect to my gayness, my gay identity, is gone.

Continue reading

Misogyny and gay men … something smells fishy.

In the past 2 weeks, there has been some interesting, albeit sometimes alarming, “discussion” on various sites of the relationship that gay men have with misogyny. It all started with TV celeb Rose McGowan, famous for her role in late 90’s series Charmed and a podcast hosted by the usually controversial writer, Bret Easton Ellis. In response to McGowan’s comments, Patrick Strudwick wrote this op-ed in The Guardian and there was this article on pinknews.co.uk.

As an early 30s same-sex attracted man, I grew up watching Charmed. From ’98, when the show first came out (pun intended), were formative years when I craved some semblance of my story in the media. Even though Buffy holds a bigger place in my heart, Charmed was the story of three seemingly normal young sisters who discover they have special powers which make them different, and which they had to keep secret. We followed the sisters as their frayed relationship became one of solidarity as their powers grew. Basically, an allegory for the story of my/any queer kid just discovering their difference and feels threatened by coming out.

Continue reading

Perfectionism is controlling my life.

Follow my blog with Bloglovin

I have been agonising over this first post for over a week now. Cycling through my mind “Will I get this post right? I need to get this perfect. No one will read this if it is not perfect. Don’t write anything, cause it won’t be perfect, and no one will read it.” This self talk constantly affects many, if not all, of my life. Fuck I’m tired … Eventually, though, I am biting the bullet, and putting fingers to keyboard. The blog is not fully designed, I don’t understand how to use WordPress and I’m not 100% clear on the direction of my writing, but here I am. I suppose that’s a little progress.

Passion, or even interest, for things has always been elusive. And over the years my interests have shifted. Cooking is still an interest, but I don’t get the same buzz that I used to get when I was a professional pastry chef. To nurture this old passion, I am dedicating a page on this blog to food. Don’t be surprised, though, if it is all sweets and baking – old pastry chef habits die-hard. I may finally get some use of all the food porn (aka cook books) that I have amassed.

The bulk of my writing will be my experiences and thoughts on identity, but specifically, masculinity in modern society/media, queer identity and race. For a long time, I have felt different from the status quo. Labels can be empowering, but in general I don’t like them. Labels do make some things easier though; my perspective is of an Australian of Chinese heritage, gay cis-man. Seeking belonging and community is part of human nature, and I will document my journey of finding my tribe and to celebrating my difference.

“I’m not right and I can’t get better.” This was the recurrent thought in my mind at the bleakest period of my depression 2 years ago. I am relatively better, right now, but my depression shades every aspect of my life. I think this is the main drive of writing this blog: to raise awareness of mental illness by sharing my personal experiences, reduce the social stigma and reach out to others challenged by mental illness. Isolation is deadly, perhaps I can create community here …

 

Feeling distressed? Please, see my “getting help now” tab at the top of the page.