It is hard to know where to begin when writing a personal history. Do I start as a small child already feeling different than my peers, or do I begin later when I first began to understand my attraction to men? Let me tell this story through a series of vignettes over time. Continue reading
I participate in a support group for gay and bisexual men who are or have been married or are in relation to a woman. In a recent meeting, I was struck by something one man said. This is a man who is married, living with his wife, but not out to her. When he thinks about a future life with a man, he wants “the normality of it.” Continue reading
When I first heard the song, A Fine Romance, sung by the incomparable Ella Fitzgerald, I was blown away. Who wrote this song? Was it a woman married to a gay man? I am not sure we will ever know. Continue reading
One of the stereotypes of gay men that I acquired around the age of fifteen, reading the homosexuality chapter of a terrible book about sex, was that gay relationships were fleeting; that gay men soon tired of each other as men continued their relentless pursuit of sex with other men; and that the idea of a deep loving passionate relationship between men was not possible. As much as I have changed over the years, and particularly over the last five years, I think this stereotype still lived on in the recesses of my mind.
After traveling to New York City on Amtrak I headed for the F subway train, carrying my suitcase and backpack up and down the stairs. I got off the F train at the Lexington avenue stop and followed the signs to the uptown 6 train. The signs took everyone to a narrow broken escalator that looked to connect us the the floor above. Once I started climbing the escalator stairs I realized the climb was much more than I had thought, at least three or four flights of stairs. The escalator was too narrow for me to stop, with a long stream of people behind me, so I kept going and trudged up the stairs with my backpack and suitcase. My left knee tweaked with a bit of pain and I began to breath heavily. Maybe, I thought, I should remember my age, 59 years, before I start climbing stairs like a twenty year old. I swatted away the thought and kept climbing.
I spoke last night to a close friend of mine and something he said took me by surprise. Like me, he came out later in life — me in my mid 50’s and him in his early 60’s. He is about sixty three now, handsome in a rugged way and in great shape. After a lot of soul searching, he chose to stay in his marriage, but agreed with his wife to open up the marriage so that he could date men. He has been dating a young man for the last year.
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Loving a Man
There was a man I got to know as I began coming out. Gary and I met on Grindr on a Friday evening in the Fall of 2011 as I sat in a restaurant, near Dupont Circle, eating dinner. I had just driven into Washington, D.C. from work and was grabbing a quick bite before heading off to a support group meeting for gay, bisexual and queer men who were, or had been involved with, or married to a women. Gary and I continued texting on Grindr over the next week and soon arranged a meeting. We immediately liked each other and had a good deal in common. My relationship with Gary never became physical but we soon became good friends and spent time together going to art movies and exploring the cultural scene in Washington, D.C.
