The Self Loathers

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED TUESDAY, MAY 16, 2006



A major motto in my life is if you do not like something—change it.

So it came as no surprise that a good friend of mine and I came to an impasse late last week, and over all things, the strip club.

Before I get into that let me tell you a little something about my friend Greg (not his real name). I love him like a brother, but he is probably one of the most self-loathing gay men I know. And I’m not talking about in the typical hypocritical gay-bashing kind that can be found on most street corners. He’s a gay man that is simply self-loathing. If you had been reading my previous blogs, you would know that I’m openly bisexual, if you are into labels. I say that because of my appearance I’ve been called anything from a straight man to a gay man without incident. It really makes no difference to be because at the end of the day I know exactly who I am. But, if you ask me, my friend Greg is gay. Although, if you ask him he is quick to defend that he too is bisexual. Most people I can give benefit of the doubt regardless of how they come off to me, but there is no doubt in my mind that Greg is gay.

At first I thought it was some sort of a bonding thing with him. Like I’m bisexual, and you’re bisexual. That was short lived when he was only bisexual around me. Around our other friends he was as gay as the gay was long. I didn’t know what was up with that until one day we was riding in the car, and he laid it on me that he was tired of being gay. Before I could respond, he was already talking about finding some woman and getting married. I was under the impression that he was joking, but when he mentions it every time we are alone, I have begun to take him a little bit more seriously. It would be one thing if I felt it was a genuine feeling inside him to settle down with a woman and have a couple of brats. It’s on a total different plane when the impression comes across as I’m going to get married to fix me so I can be like everybody else. Now, I’m the kind to reason. It isn’t that I’m against him being bisexual. If he is, he is, if he ain’t he ain’t. He just never gave me an inkling of ever being attracted to women. If he is, he is. I just don’t see him getting married just to bring some innocent woman down because of his unhappiness around being gay. If he was dating a woman, first and foremost, and found her to be the love of his life or whatever romantic crap, then I’m like my other friend Craig who says “if you like it, I love it.” Not because I make bad dating choices with men and now I want to take it out on some woman.This is to give you somewhat of an impression of what I’m working with.

Anyway, last week, Greg stopped by since he was in the neighborhood. I was on my way out with another group of friends, already at the crib. My heterosexual guy friends that wanted me to join them on one of their frequent trips to the strip club. Even though, they know about my bisexuality, we all know that when we are together the main objective is women, be it stuffing dollar bills down their thongs or trying to hook up with them. (Usually, one in the same.) Because it wasn’t my trip, I didn’t feel that it was my place to ask Greg to tag along, particularly since he dropped by unannounced. And besides, any other time I had mentioned my adventures at the strip club with my heterosexual friends, Greg seemed very disinterested.

So I went off with my friends to the strip club, and Greg headed home. Would you know that by the time I got home around 4 in the morning, Greg was calling me cussing me out because I didn’t offer an invitation for him to tag along? Cool. I apologize, giving my reasons for not asking him to tag along. It didn’t take long, in spite of being slightly intoxicated, that it was more to it than that. I could have been a lot more sympathetic to his plight if it was simply on the fact that I didn’t invite him to tag along. But it wasn’t even about that. I later learned that it had a lot more to do with the fact that he felt that my heterosexual friends (a bunch of strangers to him) thought he was gay because I didn’t extend him the invitation to the strip club. Then, he went on the kick of him thinking I thought of him being too “feminine” to hang out with a bunch of straight guys. True, when I think of masculine he isn’t the first thing to pop up in my mind, but I don’t think of him being so clockable that he couldn’t fit in. Besides, it wasn’t my call. He could have invited himself along if he wanted to. I mean, there aren’t many black men that I know that are savvy in the art of etiquette, particularly hard-ass heterosexual men whose ultimate goal is to grab the next piece of tale.Once I shared the experience with others with both ends of the sexual palate, the overall consensus says that Greg is jealous. Of course, somebody had to break that down for me because I wasn’t following. To give you a synopsis of what was said (or what I got from it) was that going by what I was saying; Greg wanted to be like me. In the sense that the heterosexual friends that I’ve been talking about all these years were real, and in spite of me messing around openly with men, they were very accepting of me. It shatters the myth that all black gay, black bi, and black straight men are at all-out war. The other thing was that he was moreover jealous of my friends because he idolized them to a point. In his opinion, so it has been explained, they can move fluidly through society. Albeit, they are ho-hopin’ at the moment, they can turn around and settle down—without having their past questioned. They are “all-American” or “Black American”. I strongly consider the words and advice from my friends and family. To add to that, I think that it also has a lot to do with the fact that I’m very much accepting of me, and I have been fortunate enough to be able to find others that can do likewise, in spite of the societal standard that says no. But, for me, I think that has a lot to do with the fact that I’m not trying to mold myself to be what everyone else thinks I should be. Wherever I’m placed I’m generally the same person. And it took me a long time to realize that is a powerful statement because not everybody can do that. Like I can be Josh in Buckhead and still be Josh in Decatur. I know a great deal of people, regardless of sexual orientation, that can’t do that. They have to play chameleon to fit in. Like that wannabe thug from the suburbs has to be thug in some parts of the city. Or people that can be gay as I don’t know what in Midtown, but can’t take that show down the road to the SWATS. Knowing what I know, it is very understandable, but on the same token I’m not trying to be less than or more than who I am, in which I’ve seen a great number of my peers do in order to try to fit in.

I think one of the biggest misconceptions is that most of these self-loathers that are gay are in the closet or on the DL. That isn’t true from my experience. It usually is the openly gay brotha who resents being gay or resent the gay life in some sort of fashion. Case and point, a friend of a friend of mine is the epitome of a self-loathing gay black man. He doesn’t date because he can’t get a man. He believes the only reason he can’t get a man is because he is overweight. So, he goes on a diet every other day to shed the pounds only to balloon back up. Though, this brother isn’t very attractive to me, I think the main reason why he can’t catch anybody is because he has a very negative attitude about life and gay men in general. And to make matters worst, he is allegedly behind several support groups that suppose to empower gay black men. He can’t empower anybody until he empowers himself. Except who he is, learn to love it and move on. Unfortunately, my friend who is also his friend wanted me to build up his self-esteem by going out with him. Usually, I don’t mind going out and learning from other people, whether it is for recreation or dating purposes, but I seriously doubt that anything would get accomplished. His negativity is almost toxic, and I don’t need to run into it eyes wide open.

I remember quite well an incident that happen a couple of years back. I was twenty-one, and this dude who could’ve been more than nineteen or so was shamelessly pushing up on me. I’ll admit that he was cute in the beginning, but I wasn’t feeling him like that having a multitude of other things I was working on. Because he was looking for a masculine top in me, he feminized himself more and more every time I saw him in a desperate attempt to grab my attention. Little did he know he was turning me off more and more with this charade. I had no problem with him being feminine, if that was who he truly was. My problem was with the shameless effort of him breaking down who he was in order to impress me. And for that reason, I felt the need to have a one-on-one with him at a nearby Starbucks.

Though, I have never been guilty of changing myself for somebody else, I have camouflaged my actions to be more in sync with others. (There is a difference.) From that experience, I learned that it is important for me to date someone who defines their sexuality and don’t let their sexuality define them.

So, I’ll end this blog like this (since I’m getting extremely tired), if you don’t like something about yourself change it—don’t wallow in self-loathing and don’t loathe others. Accept yourself for who you are and accept the the world for the diverse place that it is—if not, change it.