Pride and prejudice

I ran across a tweet the other day that I wanted to share – because for as inclusive as the gay community likes to think that it is, there’s still plenty of hate and bigotry out there.

 

But it also begs the question to the couples out there; if a guy approaches one of your at Pride, would you automatically assume he’s trying to hook up? Obviously I know the reasonable answer to that question but… – isn’t the point of Pride celebrating as a community and getting to know one another?

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Being Ugly: Chapter 2 – Taking Up Space

Hi, me again. So, this will be fairly short, as its mainly a reaction to the fact that I’ve been in a number of crowds of late and noticed something that fascinated me:

I’m pretty sure that many thin/good-looking people are not aware of the space they take up like fat or ugly people are.

From a VERY young age, I’ve always been cognizant of my volume – the amount of air I displace, and how that affects things around me. My instinct has become to always be against a more solid, immovable object – a wall, a column, a stately manor home, what have you – so that my volume and its will meld together and I’ll seem to take up less space. This usually manifests itself in me hanging around the perimeter of crowds, or, if in conversation, trying to be the one furthest from whatever walkway or path may be near.

I bring this up because OH MY GOODNESS I don’t think many¬†[skinny] people have any idea that they, too, take up space. While attending a networking function last week, a group of very good-looking, thin people clumped right in the main passage between the main space and the bar, which, due to the space’s architecture, was the narrowest choke point in the room.

I was utterly aghast when I saw this… Why on earth would they choose to be located right there?! It actually made me nervous for them.

But then it dawned on me that they may not have ever been conscious of their volume – they were used to slinking through crowds without begging apologies at every brush-past, immune to the disgusted looks that an “I’m sorry, excuse me, I’m sorry…” and a shoulder-tap brings; to walking down narrow sidewalks without pressing themselves against a building every time someone else came the other way.

What must that be like?

What must that be like, to see a friend across a crowded room and go to them without hesitation, not hope they’ll come to you because you’d have to ask like 30 people to squeeze by…

What must that be like, to avoid angry looks while waiting for an airplane, everyone hoping that you aren’t seated next to them…

What must that be like, to walk across a room, and not around its perimeter…

What must that be like?

[Apologies, this was less “fairly short” than I had intended… I promise, next time, I’ll stick to 150 words or less.]

Being Ugly: Chapter One

Hey, its Will again. It has been literally ages since I wrote my first post for this blog, and literally the entire world has changed, and when justgngr told me I had an old unpublished post in here, I was kinda scared of what I didn’t remember writing… but here it is. Lightly edited and an actual lending added, hope you enjoy:

I have an inkling that the main reason I was asked to contribute to this blog is that I have a perspective that its founder doesn’t – I am an ugly gay person. Now, obviously, justgngr is gay… but he’s also very good looking. The world runs differently when you’re good looking – that applies to all people, regardless of sexuality – but it is amplified in the gay community.

I’ve been fat my entire life. The shopping trips I recall as a little kid were always in the “husky” section. A bookish, mildly-effeminate chubby kid, I was naturally a target for ridicule and derision in school from my peers. Truthfully, I didn’t really have any actual friends until college, so I may have missed some of the usual socialization milestones. I could carry on a grownup conversation, but didn’t know anything about how to be a kid – my non-classroom times were spent eating my PB&J in the bathroom or an empty classroom.

Some time in high school, puberty hit. Along with the realization that I was gay came the realization that everyone disliked me because I was ugly AND gay, not just ugly… but in addition, puberty has an evil way of magnifying one’s insecurities. I started growing hair in all the usual puberty places, but also on my shoulders and back, while at the same time started losing the hair on my head. Balding at 17 is not a good look, I promise you, but for the chubby gay 17-year-old with patches of hair on his jawline trying to fuse with the patches of hair on his shoulders, it just makes you look like you’ve decided to give up on any chance you ever had of getting laid.

Which is a bit odd because I lost my virginity right around that time. To a guy. From the internet. I had a great time – someone actually wanted me! To be quite honest, that’s all that sex has been for me since – knowing that for those 10-20 minutes, someone actually wants to be around you, even if it is just to get their dick sucked.

But hey, at least, for those few minutes, I get to feel sexy…

I’ll be exploring this topic much more moving forward, so lets just call this Chapter One.