Secrets

We all have secrets lingering in our lives; they make us who we are, without them, we're nothing, and yet we're everything.

We hide them because we're afraid of what they might represent. If we tell a single soul of our secret we run the fear of having that party glare at us with disapproving eyes.

Sometimes we hide those secrets deep within ourselves in the hopes that they will never surface. Eventually, those secrets hidden in our past, find a way of surfacing putting our current life in danger.

Secrets mean ownership. They mold us, shape us, break us. They signify something that we can't share with the rest of the world, and if we do, the ownership dissolves. 

Secrets are putrid . . . heartwarming . . . seductive . . . lustful . . . taunting . . . but they are ours; mine and yours.

Some secrets have been known to shatter the most perfect of lives.

And other secrets can wake us up at 3:00 A.M. short of breath because they're haunting our dreams.

We all have secrets; some more painful than others, and some that should never be spoken.

National Coming Out Day - 2008

To all the individuals who’ve had the courage to come out.

And to my generous friends who’ve shared their stories with me.

We all come from different backgrounds, religions, and cultures. We are lawyers, bankers, students, nurses, architects, writers, brothers, mothers, cousins, and so forth...

Some of us have been out since the age of fourteen and for some others it’s taken a bit longer. But our common thread is that we’ve all had to come out at one point or another.

“Coming out isn’t about being gay. That’s just who you are. Coming out is about being comfortable with being gay.” Adam a good-friend of mine summarized it best. “Straight men aren’t forced to face their sexuality head on like we have to. We have to be sure that we are ready to face the world. We never stop coming out.”

Once we’ve accepted and have come out to ourselves, then the hardest part follows; telling those around.

I came out nine years ago, but even before coming out I knew. My body never lied to me. I remember being in the locker room in the seventh grade and checking out all the sweaty boys after P.E. class. I knew it wasn’t “normal” to check out boys, because my Mexican-Catholic upbringing. I ended up lying to myself and pretend to like girls, but deep down I always knew that the feelings that I was having for boys was normal. Nine years later, I’ve fully accepted and have embraced who I am.

National Coming Out Day is on Saturday, October 11th, this is an international event which gives the LGBT community the opportunity to “come out” to others about their sexuality. The first National Coming Out Day was held on the same day in 1988. It was chosen for the annual event in commemoration of the 1987 March on Washington for Lesbian and Gay Rights, in which 500,000 people marched on Washington D.C. for gay and lesbian equality. It also marks the anniversary of the first visit of the AIDS Memorial Quilt to Washington D.C.

My wonderful friends were generous to share their coming out stories with me. They also offer inspirational words for anyone who’s considering in coming out.

Travis a twenty-three year-old Computer Specialist was raised Mormon, but now he’s agnostic, this is his story…

It first happened when I went to my Stake President and had the Missionary interview. This was to be the last interview before turning in my papers to the head offices. He asked me the same question that I had heard my Bishop ask me, "Have you ever been involved in a gay relationship or supported a gay cause or felt that you were gay in anyway?" For some peculiar reason this came out of my mouth, "I thought I might have been." Naturally he didn't sign my papers. I got very upset and stormed out of his office. I had to tell my mom why my papers weren’t getting sent off. This was the first time she heard anything about me being gay. At that point, I told her that I knew I wasn't and wasn't sure why I had said that. I still wanted very, very badly to go on a Mission.

After a few more months of working with the Stake President and a psychologist, I had another interview and the papers went off, but they came back from the head office telling me that I couldn't go. A few months passed and one day over the phone, after wrestling with it, I told my mom that I was gay and was sure of it. I don't think that stuck with her until I moved back home and we went on a walk together and she brought it up. She told me that I was making a wrong choice and that I should really think about what I was doing. I have thought about this for three years and had nearly killed myself in the process, I told her. The way her beliefs work and because my father wasn't around, she felt the need to tell me that if I choose this I was going to hell. She said that she would never accept me for who I was, but would still love me. And she did just that. I wasn't kicked out of the home or given any less help and support when I was trying to recover my life. She stood by me the whole way.

J.D. a twenty-year-old sophomore in Communication Studies had a different experience, this is his story…

Coming out was the scariest thing I’ve ever done in my life. I was so afraid of rejection that I was willing to compromise my happiness to make others comfortable. After I came out, I felt like a gigantic weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. Some people will accept you; they’re your true friends. Those who don’t don’t deserve to be part of your life.

The first person that I told was gay was my best friend Taylor. Her and I became very close friends in middle school. And I learned from spending time with her that she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. She loved everyone, and was my inspiration to come out. She always stayed true to herself, being the odd one in our group, but was never afraid to show her emotions, and didn’t apologize for doing so. We were fourteen when I told her that I was gay. She said, “…so? I thought it was something important.” I’ve always felt that she’s one of the greatest people in my life.

When I asked Miles and Charlie when they realized it was okay for them to be who they are this is what they had to say…

Miles: I don’t remember an exact moment of being okay with being gay, but I remember day after day wondering why God would make me this way if he didn’t want me to be this way, then thinking, “If God doesn’t like this, then fuck him. If being myself is wrong, then go ahead and send me to hell.” Those hard feeling eventually smoothed out into a healthier self-acceptance over the next few months.

Charlie: I think I’m fairly okay with it, but to this day I still have minute issues at times. Nothing TOO crazy, but I guess it just comes from the high school stereotype of “will I fit in if they know I’m gay.” I’m constantly proven that I WILL be accepted if I’m out; it’s just a force of habit I guess.

If you’re considering coming out, here’s advice from people who’ve been there…

* It takes a lot of strength. But it gets easier each time. Take things at your own speed and that the only thing that matters is how you feel about yourself. What other people think is completely irrelevant.

* Take your time; think about it, but most importantly TALK TO SOMEONE ABOUT IT! Honey, we’re in 2008 and things have changed just from even five years ago. It’s okay to be gay. People WILL be okay with it. Besides, we’re a lot more fun.

* Worry about the family first. There are loads of people out there today who are excepting of who you are. You can get new friends, but you only have one family.

* Make sure you have some place safe to support you both physically and emotionally—and make sure that the support is not coming from some who wants to use you.

* Always be honest. Don’t try to lead a double life. It isn’t worth it and you’ll go insane. Honesty maybe hard at times and it make your situation look hopeless, but it is worth it in the end and you will have no guilty feelings for being honest and straightforward from the beginning. 

*No matter what you believe, you only get to live THIS life once. There comes a point in your life when you have to say, “Am I going to spend my life living it for other people, or am I going to spend my life living it for me?”

Just be you. The best version of yourself. That’s all you can do. No matter what…

Here's a link to the Human Rights Campaign - National Coming Out Day Video 2008 

A Season of Change

The humidity that lingered in my hair, revealing its natural curly texture has now vanished. The sweat that once laid on my forehead like an annoying neighbor is now being cooled off by the icy chill of the wind that flies around the streets of Manhattan, like a dog barking when an intruder has invaded its territory. This can only mean one thing; fall is slowly creeping in, like a thief in the night.

Experiencing my first fall in New York is something that I have dreamed about since I purchased my first scarf eight years ago at the Gap in the Galleria Mall, in Riverside. Now I have a reason to wear them and no one looks at me with bewildered glances and confused stares, when I walk around in  a cashmere scarf, like they did when I lived in Vegas or California.

As the weather changes, I find myself gravitating into the person that I'm going to become. Several months ago, I thought I knew who I was, I thought I had all the answers, but spending the last four months in New York has truly opened my eyes to a reality I only saw on the big screen. New York has kicked my ass, which is molding me into a strong individual. I've learned that if you're not always on your toes this city will eat you up, like a hungry pit bull devouring its dinner.

I'm currently in-between jobs; the theatre job that I had started and finished in the blink of an eye. I'll be starting two new jobs in several weeks, giving me plenty of free time to write at different Starbucks all over Manhattan, and this thrills me. This is what I always wanted to do and I'm living my dream. (Although my dream didn't consist of living pay-check-to-pay-check, but struggling is part of life. Or at least I tell myself that every day).

I'm surprising myself constantly; I read now. Who knew! The fact that I actually love it is something that perplexes me. I yearn for those moments when I can ride the subway and continue reading my Christopher Rice novel. He's got to be one of the most talented writers out there; I totally have a crush on Christopher. (I know that my former roommate would be really happy to know that I have become a bookworm).

As I write this blog, on the Starbucks on 49th street between 8th and 9th avenues, there is this gay mature couple sitting to my right. I believe they're on their first date because of their body language and the questions I can hear being asked through my iPOD. I can't help to wonder how they met, what it's like to date at their age, and what they're going to do after they leave Starbucks. The first stages of a relationship are always the most exciting part of dating. Whoever this couple is, I wish them the best.

I'm such a romantic, which is a double edge sword in my community. But I'm still looking, which might not be the best idea for me right now, since I'm still figuring myself out. I guess, what I really want is to go on a date with a guy who has the same interest in me as I do in him and who isn't going to play games. My roommate asked me what I want out of a relationship and I went blank, which is a clear sign that I need to figure things out. But what I do know is that I don't want to spend my time in New York alone. I read somewhere that life is too much fun to spend alone, and I agree.

The other night while talking to my friend Emmett, he said something that left me breathless, as if I was getting tackled after catching a football pass, that I wasn't suppose to intercept, "How am I suppose to to date my ideal dream man," he noted, "if I'm not the ideal man that I want to be? I'm not in a place in my life right now that I thought I'd be."

His words still haunt me. They haunt me as I write this, "How am I suppose to date my ideal man, if I'm not the ideal man that I want to be?" And he's right. For me, I know that I'm not the ideal man that I wan to be be. At least not yet, I am far from it.

As I begin to work on the ideal man that I will become, I will eventually attract that ideal man that will occupy a place next to my bed and will be on the Christmas cards we send out, every year. "He's out there, you probably already exchanged glances on the subway and you just don't know he's the one," this is something that I constantly tell myself every time I go to bed. (Isn't it interesting how I always seem to bring it back to dating and love in these blogs? It might mean something. I will ask my therapist what it means, when I can afford a therapist).

The season is changing in New York, and so am I. I have a feeling I will constantly be changing, molding myself into the person that I'm destined to be.

Stay tuned loyal readers . . . 

(Times Square, October 08)

The Life of a New York Artist

Every year tons of actors, writers, dancers, singers, musicians, painters, and those in-between move to New York City in the hopes of making their dreams come true.

What I’ve re-confirmed through conversations with fellow New York theatre artists is that this profession is unstable, it will betray you at any chance it gets, and it will stab you in the back when you least expect it. It also takes patience, a willingness to market yourself (without looking desperate), and knowing the right people hasn't hurt anyone. “This profession is life on the edge,” described to me by one of my co-workers who’s been in the profession for over thirty years.

I’ve noticed a pattern among most aspiring artists that move to New York; they are forced to work in crummy jobs (which they swore they would never do) just to pay for their uber expensive apartment in the city. If you’re an actor you begin to audition and get rejection after rejection, because out of the 50 auditions you go, a couple of them will turn into a callback and maybe one or two will become a job. Then when the 6-month contract ends, you have to do it all over again.

The same goes for playwrights, although we deal with rejection much different than actors do; our plays are the ones who get rejected, not so much us. In the past three years, I’ve submitted to over twenty festivals/developmental workshops and out of those twenty, three of them have selected my plays and in one festival I was an alternate. The ones that really mattered, the festivals/developmental workshops that I’ve wanted to get into rejected my plays. It’s tough to deal with that rejection, but I've slowly gotten use to it.

Why do I keep at this unstable profession that one day will give me a steady income, you may ask? Because there are moments of absolute blissfulness. Like when a stranger, two years ago approached me at the Kennedy Center American College Theatre Festival, after witnessing the reading of my one-act Chloe’s Autumn and praised me for, “capturing the essence of what it’s like to be in an unstable and miserable marriage.” It was a huge compliment, considering that I’ve never been married.

Moments like that are a constant reminder as to why I love what I do. And why I could never do anything else; I create art. That’s my job. I'm a story teller. I take you on a journey for an hour an a half and make you reflect on situations, people, places that normally wouldn't cross your mind on a regular basis.

I didn’t get into theatre to make money; I’ve always know that. And I have to remind myself of that every day when I answer the phone at work, or send a fax, or design a flier for my overly demanding boss, that this is only temporary. And that soon rather than later I’m going to have my agent (when I get one) call me to inform me that Playwright’s Horizon wants to commission me to write a play for their next season.

But until that day comes and it will come, I have to work the crummy job to pay for my apartment in Astoria and my upcoming student loans. I made a promise to myself right when I got to the city which was to never lose sight of why I moved here. As one of my mentors told me in grad school, “Oscar, you’re a writer, so write…” and that’s what I’m going to do…

Out Magazine: Has Manhunt Destroyed Gay Culture?

Out Magazine's September 2008 issue is in newstands right now with hottie Neil Patrick Harris on the cover. Michael Joseph Gross, a contributing writer for the magazine, wrote a clever yet insightful article about how Manhunt has literally distroyed gay culture's dating habits. I have included the beginning of the article as well as a link to finish reading the article.

Has Manhunt Destroyed Gay Culture?
A cost-benefit analysis of our quest to get laid.
By Michael Joseph Gross

If you are a single gay man in search of a mate, and if you are at times prone to discouragement, you probably have friends who reassure you that someday you will find a man who’ll cherish every part of you -- even your weaknesses, even your flaws.

If you have been wondering whether to believe this, wonder no more. There are in fact at least a few dozen guys out there who cherish your flaws. They work in Cambridge, Mass., in a historic building topped by a golden statue of Athena, the goddess of wisdom, in an oak-paneled office suite where a grandfather clock marks the passing of the hours. Here the guys who delight in your weaknesses oversee Manhunt.net, the world’s fastest-growing gay website, which is quietly abetting a revolution in social and sexual mores, under the slogan “get on, get off.”

The phrase evokes the product Manhunt sells: a fix of quick sex -- easy in, easy out. To partake, men market themselves in a style shaped by the site’s profile template. Profile names, which tend to be histrionically masculine or graphically sexual, appear next to pictures, usually of a beefcake or X-rated variety, often with heads cropped out, accompanied by brief, blunt descriptions of sexual tastes (“I need oral and anal sex all the time”). Beneath these entries lie a series of boxes that can be checked to signal “What I’m Into” (27 options, including “JO”, “Exhibition,” “Pig Play,” “LTR” -- long-term relationship -- “Feet/Socks”), “When I Want It” (the box most frequently checked is “Right Now!”), “How I Like It” (top, bottom, etc.), “Where It Happens” (“Your Place,” “My Place,” and the popular “Anywhere”), and “What I Got” (age, build, ethnicity, eye color, hair color, HIV status, and height). To that last category will soon be added penis length and girth -- “a controversial issue within the company,” says Manhunt’s recently resigned director of marketing Phil Henricks, “because men lie.”

This wealth of information makes Manhunt seem the most efficient place for its target customers to find sex, because the site’s comprehensive search function can produce in seconds a list of, say, brown-eyed bottoms within one mile of your zip code wanting to get it on “Right Now!”

Manhunt’s apparent efficiency owes even more to its staggering number of members. The site’s other advertising tag line, “If he’s out there, he is on here,” is only a slight exaggeration. In the United States, Manhunt now has nearly 1 million members, and the site receives more than 400,000 unique visitors per month. If you are among its target customers -- younger, hotter, and richer than average gay men in big cities -- Manhunt is the club that the proverbial everyone (meaning, the guys you’ve always fantasized about) belongs to.

Who knows? You might even find a boyfriend there. If it’s true -- and everybody says it’s true -- that sex is the gay handshake, then one of these days maybe you’ll hit the jackpot. Thus, even many of the most overbearingly erotic profiles also haltingly express a dream of emotional connection. The headline of one man’s ad, next to a big close-up of his butt, asks, “Are you The One?”

To finish reading the rest of the article please visit: "Has Manhunt Destroyed Gay Culture?"

My Single-Self

If going to the bar meant to meet other single-eligible-attractive-men then why is that guys who are in relationships go? I understand that they have to co-exist in bars with me and that they have the same needs as single guys do; which is to consume voluminous amounts of alcohol and mingle with other attractive guys. But when they check me out when their partner is not in their presence is something that I'm not okay with.

Several weeks ago, I went to my neighborhood bar Albatross with my roommate to get a couple of drinks to celebrate my new found employment (which I currently have a hate-love relationship with). After six frustrating weeks of being unemployed in the city, I had finally found someone who hired me, so it was time to drink away the money that I'd soon be earning.

As we walked into the bar, there was this statuesque guy (and I take note on taller guys because I want to date someone who's taller than me - 6 feet or taller is my requirement) he was playing pool (brownie points) and then the statuesque guy looked and smiled at me several times (my heart belonged to him). I pictured us having Thai dinner at some trendy restaurant on 9th Avenue, then dancing the night away at Star Lounge underneath the Chelsea Hotel, and then sharing a cab ride back to Astoria as we figured who's place we'd spend the night at. But I was brought back to reality when his extremely good looking boyfriend (who mind you was shorter than him by six inches) came in after having smoked a cigarette and kissed him. I hated them both; the statuesque guy for checking me out and his extremely good looking boyfriend for being boyfriends with the statuesque guy. As the night progressed and I continued drinking my gin and tonic, I realized what a cute couple they made and my hatred for both of them grew stronger.

Last night while riding the subway home, I pulled my black leather bound notebook from my purse and made a list of all my close/best-friends that are coupled. And the numbers stunned me. Out of that list 11 out of 15 close/best-friends are either married, engaged, or have been together for a long time. And 4 out of the 15 are SINGLE! All my close/best-friends are COUPLED! What does that say about me? Do I secretly long to be in a relationship that I surround myself with other people who are in relationships in the hopes that one day I too will be in a relationship? Am I unconsciously putting this into the universe?

Last week I hung out with my favorite newly form couple, Eric and Milo. I met Eric through a mutual friend from California. She got us in contact when she found out that I was moving to New York and said we'd hit it off, and boy was she right. When I first met Eric he had just started dating Milo, now almost three months later they're practically living together in Astoria.

"We're like lesbians," joked Eric. "You know lesbians go rent a UHAL on their second date." He told me over happy hour drinks at ATE Ave, several weeks ago. Then last week Milo invited me over to have dinner with them. By the way, Milo is an amazing chef. (I told him if he had a gay twin, to which he laughed and ignored my question, which annoyed me because I was totally being serious). Eric and Milo are one of those couples that still give me hope that everyone does in fact have someone out there.

Then on the other side of the relationship spectrum is Adam and Christov who will be celebrating their fourth anniversary on September 2nd (if I'm correct). And four years translates to eight years in gay years (everything gets doubled). Their relationship keeps growing stronger and stronger each day, and I admire them for it. Hopefully one day I too can have what Adam and Christov or what Eric and Milo have. Someone who'll be there through thick and thin. And isn't that what we all want - to be with someone and not end up alone?

Both of these couples are a perfect example of what I surround myself with every day. Even when I lived in Vegas it was the same thing; I lived with a married couple, my favorite collaborator and close friend is married, three of my close gay guy friends are or were in long-distance relationships.

For the most part I have never felt like a third wheel with any of my coupled friends, but when I witness them stealing a glance from each other, or finishing each other's thoughts, or eating from each other's plates; I glance at the empty seat next to me and wonder when is it going to be my turn? When am I going to do all those things with someone? When am I going to be a couple? The answer that I always give myself is, "soon...real soon...he's out there...be patient...keep on dating...you'll find him...you'll find him..."

...whether I believe all of that or not, is a different story...

Gay Online Dating: The Good, the Bad, & the Horribly Misspelled Profiles

In my journey to find my significant other I have opted out to search for him online. I've heard plenty of successful stories of people who have met online, so I figured why not give it a shot and see what happens. In this new found journey I joined connexion.org. This site was recommended by a friend, who had some tantalizing experiences, so after his convincing testimonials, I rushed home and joined like it was going out of style.

It's been a month since I became a member and I've yet to go on any dates. My online dating is worse than my real life dating. (Although my real life dating is going pretty good so far). I've come to the realization that the more skin one shows on these sites the more one will get a response. (Wait a minute, isn't that the definition of shallow?) I mean, I am showing off skin; I'm wearing a tank top on my profile picture, and that's the only skin you're going to get from me. I want to be mysterious.

Last night, I received an e-mail notice from connexion.org, I got uber excited thinking someone had messaged me and my dateless online streak would be over, but when I logged on, to my surprise it was not a message from some hunky guy saying how much he wanted to ravish my body, but a notice to one of the features on the site. (Que rude!) So I began perusing some of the profiles and that's when the rest of this blog entry was born. My roommate suggested that I compose a blog compiling all the ridiculous quotes that guys put on that dating site.

So here's the good, the bad, and the horribly misspelled of what guys are putting on their dating profiles.

from CONNEXION.ORG:

(1.) This was a comment left from D. to G.:
"STAY AWAY FROM HIM, BITCHES! He's MINE -- ALL MINE. AND I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN & KILL YOU IF YOU EVEN SO MUCH AS I.M. HIM.
G: LOG OFF THIS EVIL SITE RIGHT NOW.
-jealous Taurus"

(2.) This was found in the ABOUT ME Section:
"I am gay, but pretty straight acting. I like dudes...I don't mind flamers, but you better be wicked cute. I like to drink Stoli and I hate beer because there are too many carbs...I love CK underwear because that* make my package look phenomenal...I love men in jock straps..."

(3.) This was in the WANT TO MEET Section:
"Someone with a great ass, tons of money, a non-feline domesticated animal, and a library. Must possess the ability to make me laugh uproariously. Hee hee. Or- be nice, and we can work on the other stuff later."

(4.) This was in the WANT TO MEET Section:
"I want a man who's kind and understanding. Is that too much to ask of a millionaire?

(5.) This was found in the ABOUT ME Section:
"190 lbs of gym time..."

(6.) This was found in the ABOUT ME Section:
"Flirting is hot--Rudeness is not... Conversation is an art form...are you still using crayons??"

(7.) This was in the WANT TO MEET Section: (This one is not bad at all, in fact it's the opposite, I wanted to add it because I fell in love with him, and he was on a popular reality show last season).
"Someone with some flavor. Someone honest who says what they think and does what they say. Someone who actually wants to meet someone rather than just receive validation. Someone who doesn't text message incessantly. If you like some of the stuff I like and are not afraid to embrace the gayness then that's a start. Honestly if you're not funny or at least a good audience then I will get bored pretty quickly. I also appreciate a dirty mind a potty mind. A top would be nice. I don't know what I'm looking for. Just that guy. You know him. That guy."

(*Note the misspelled words and bad grammar that these guys use.)