Four times a year I board a plan to attend a board meeting as a board member of a company that my employer is part owner of. While I came out last year to about half people who attend this meeting, I have not come out to everyone, and because of that each meeting has a certain level of stress.
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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.
In my prior post I described some of my thoughts and feelings as I approached beginning divorce mediation with my wife. Before finalizing and posting my last blog post I made sure that I had a conversation with my partner to share with him what I was feeling and thinking. I did not want him to read intimate thoughts and feelings that touched our relationship for the first time online.
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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.
I have never grown a beard before. Oh, I had some feeble attempts to grow beards in my 20’s and 30’s that were very short lived, but I have never had the courage to wear a beard to work. I remember in my late-twenties growing a beard when I lived in New York City. My mother was visiting me and we were in a cab together. She turned to me as we headed down Broadway, just passing Union Square, and let me know that she did not like the beard. I do not remember exactly what words she used, but her comments confirmed all my self doubt that the beard made me look silly. When I got home I shaved off the beard. I do not remember growing a beard for more than a few vacation days since that cab ride with my mother over thirty years ago.
