Coming Out

2005-05-13 - 5:52 p.m.

I wrote this entry last night before bed. I thought I'd share it, since I'm busy and in the middle of moving. Enjoy! -- Jamie

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I'm going to go on a little rant here.

Jamie on a rant? NEVER! ;-)

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I'm gay. I prefer men. I have a partner whom I adore, but hell -- I like to look, fantasize, admire other men. Nelson knows this about me. He knows my type. I like 'bearish-type men'. (Link/Adult) Nelson is not a 'bear man'. I guess, however, that he fits the description in a lot of ways. He's chubby and furry, but in a other ways he's like a kid. What attracts me to him is the fact that he makes me laugh and we have a lot in common. There are some things I could live without, but I'm damn sure he feels the same way about me. (I can be overbearing, bossy, and downright annoying)

I love Nelson, and he's fully aware of this entry, so stop yourselves right there with the blackmail attempts. ;-)

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From the time I was in Kindergarten, I knew I was different. I liked playing with the girls. My teachers, Mrs. Johnson and Mrs. Shimer, would always separate the children in our classroom, and we'd have little playgroups. I remembered that she'd put me in with other boys and I would veer away and start playing with my friends Gail and Tina.

"Wouldn't you be more comfortable playing with the boys, Jamie?"

Not I. The boys would play with their Lincoln Logs, and the girls with dolls and Barbie Fashion Plates. (Anyone besides me remember those?) I preferred the Fasion Plates.

By the time I was in fifth grade, I looked like a girl. My parents were biased and couldn't see it, but when I'd go places, people always thought I was a girl. I had fair skin and high cheekbones and my hair was thick and cut long. I knew it. All of my best friends in school were girls. I never made friends with many boys, because to me -- they were just too immature and childish for me. (Odd, yes?)

I'd get called "Queer", "Homo", and "Faggot" a lot, but with time, I developed an immunity to all of the namecalling. By the time I was in tenth grade, I knew I was gay. It was then that I was finally able to look into a mirror and admit it to myself. However, my attraction to men can be traced back to the fifth grade, and my teacher Mr. Jones. (No, I didn't make that name up) He had a beard and a mustache, and was built like a lumberjack. (Hah! My fondness for 'bear men' was born!) There was also a kid named Michael Hinkley who wore a retainer, and in the wintertime -- a leather jacket. (Hah! My fondness for leather on a man was born!) I always wanted to be near him, and would cut into line just to stand behind him and admire him. I remember that Valentine's Day in fifth grade when he gave me a Valentine, and I kept it for months.

You really do never forget your first crush!

I came out to my mother when I was 18, which was quite by accident. My brother had called me a "faggot", and we got into a fight. Mom asked me why 'little names like that bothered me', and I replied honestly. It was very emotional, but very liberating. My father was next, who took it even better than my mother. I was very lucky.

And when I turned 21, everyone knew. I had discreetly subscribed to "The Advocate" -- a gay and lesbian news publication, and read about men who were attracted to other bear men. In fact, I learned a lot about gay men and fetishes; being honest and open, and at times, even being militant about being gay.

And then my SISTER came out.

It was the absolute best! We both started our own little club, and were each other's best friends when we basically decided to "out ourselves to the world". We chose the militant route, and had a ball with it. In fact, it opened a lot of doors for me. In time, I would become the most popular DJ/VJ in the Binghamton, NY area (well -- in my own mind I was...), I knew all the right people, I met many, many men -- and I was exposed to what being 'out' was all about. Networking was a blast.

I learned the most from my now-deceased friend Earnest Paldino (We called him "Cookie") He died of complications from AIDS years ago, but he was like a second 'mother' to me. He taught me how to live, to not care what others thought about me, and how to use poppers.

Did I just type that out loud? ;-)

I've grown up a lot since those days. I'm still 'out', but not like I was then. I suppose the idea of getting the 'rainbow bear' tattoo on my right outer calf was a way to remind myself of those good times, but at the same time, I want people to know what I am.

People automatically assume everyone is straight. That's just the way it is. I exist for many reasons, but one of the most important to me, is to show the world that it's not so bad. [Being 'out']

It's never prevented me from getting a job, the friends that I've told (for the most part), did not run away upon hearing the news, I'm still very close with my mother (my father not so much anymore, but for completely unrelated reasons -- my choice), I've never been physically assaulted (I live in a small town, though)... I just -- carry on. And I get by quite well.

My friend Brin once told me about "family of chance" and "family of choice". Your family of chance is the one you are dealt upon successful completion of the birth process. Your family of choice is the family you create. I love both equally, but each in different ways. The 'family of choice' that I've chosen to surround me, either physically, emotionally, online, or long-distance -- is the family I've chosen based on a number of circumstances. One of those circumstances is their ability to accept me for who I am, and to understand that the fact that I am gay has nothing to do with choice. (Don't ever get me started on that tangent...) It's a part of me. It doesn't control me or make decisions for me. I do that.

"Coming out" is something very unique to the individual. No two people ever come out in the same way. Not everyone comes out. There was a time when I used to actually look down upon those people, as if they were some sort of 'hindrance' in the way of getting what we deserve as a gay people. (Equality)

I've grown since then.

I've come to understand that some people don't come out for a variety of reasons, but generally it has to do with the fear of losing someone close to them -- whether it be family or friends. (A beloved pet?) ;-) Others are fearful for their life. Others have reasons that defy explanation.

I'm by no means a spokesman for the gay/lesbian/bisexual/transgendered community. I'm just a messenger. It's 2005, and we still have many hurdles to overcome. I never thought I'd be saying these words when I was reading my first copy of "The Advocate" back in 1991. Somehow, I expected we'd have moved a lot further forward by now. Maybe we have, a little. I know one thing to be certain in the midst of all of this debate over 'coming out'.

It was the right choice for me, and I don't regret one minute of it. And I can't go back in the closet now. The 'rainbow bear' tattoo will see to that. ;-)