Internalizing

I feel like the subject of my most recent post has just been in my face and in my thoughts ever since I wrote it. It’s inescapable and it comes up when I see my couple-friends and even when I don’t, by way of social media in its many forms.

I saw them again this weekend, obviously, we’re good friends. After pre-gaming we went to a local hangout, where we ran into the fuckboy again. I mean, it’s not that unexpected or even as much of an issue as it would have been some time ago. We’re civil, and as I told his bestie while super drunk, and most likely completely against her will, that’s all we need. There was a bit more to this story, but that’s not what this post is about.

Honestly, I’m not completely sure what this post is all about. Half the couple just mentioned to me that they were unaware of my feelings for and concerning fuckboy. I was told that I internalize. Now that made me wonder if that’s what I do. I post on here about my complete emotional instability all the time, or at least occasionally. But do I actually speak to the people in my life about what’s going on with me? I guess not.

I’m a very open person. People know a lot about me, they know what happens in my life but they very rarely know how I feel about the things that they know bout. Then it freaks me out when someone assesses me as internalizing or as sensitive or really any adjective that describes a part of me that I didn’t actively share with them. Maybe that’s why I share so much? To overload news cycle, take attention away from what I’d rather not dwell on. It’s been known to work in certain recent political campaigns both locally and abroad.

Look at me pretending that I know anything about the human psyche. Two weeks of psychiatry hasn’t really equipped me to even deal with my own issues. Dear reader, thanks for sticking around through my absolutely ridiculous self-reflection, I promise the next one will be an anecdote with some more flesh.

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To Fuckboy or not to Fuckboy …

The title really does say it all, but I guess I’ll fill up this post with some more meat. Punny.

Recently I got involved with a guy who I knew was a fuckboy from the get go. We banged on the first night after both having made out with multiple other guys in front of each other. So maybe I’m not painting myself in the best light here either. Just thinking back to that night and actually every encounter we had after that, it’s shocking that I was ever under the impression that we could be a couple.

I was kind of head over heels for this boy, he is gorgeous and charming, but most of them are. He didn’t treat me particularly well, but maybe that’s kind of what was great about it – he wasn’t trying very hard. He wasn’t clingy or annoyed that I didn’t text all the time. Jokes, I actually did most of the initiation when it came to texting or doing things, I think he invited me to do things maybe three times. One of those times was a dinner at his house where I met two of his siblings and then spent the night, something he later said was too ‘real’ and felt too much like I was his boyfriend. He did however introduce me to his friends as his ‘boy’ the previous evening at a party. Damn, this boy really is a classic fuckboy hey.

Anyway, I’ve fallen into this FB trap before, funnily enough with a boy that made out with the most recent one only a week or two after we met, while we were out together. I make absolutely great decisions.

Some friends have decided that maybe, just maybe I might be an FB myself, which honestly I didn’t enjoy at first. I struggled with the concept at the same time that I had to struggle with just being “broken up with” by the boy mentioned above.

It took about two weeks to really get over this boy – we only hooked up for a month – but by the end of the two weeks I had also accepted being called a fuckboy myself, not because I actually think I exhibit the classic qualities, but because I think maybe we all have a little of FB in us.  And is that such a massive issue? I’ve treated boys like this one treated me, and thought nothing of it. It’s only now that I actually developed feelings and had my heart semi crushed that I realise it’s absolute bullshit. That being said though, we’re all probably just a bit broken from a previous experience or what the general gay community seems to value above all else, sex. How do we build real relationships or even casual ones when we don’t really know what’s socially okay?

The question remains, to fuckboy or not? To get with one and risk actually developing feelings even though you know it’ll end in tears, or even to be one when you risk just destroying your relationships and gaining a reputation that’s difficult to shake. There is no real answer here, and you should know by now that I never really have one, I pose questions to the world at large hoping that I’ll learn something from my own writing and maybe learn to not be the worst, by spotting the worst in myself through my experiences with others. Deep.

Non-Scene

I’ve spent my entire gay life as a non-scener, someone that doesn’t go to gay bars, clubs, pride parades and the like regularly. I’ve often wondered what it would be like to be one of those sceners, what it would be like to hang with my fellow gay guys and just be comfortable in my own skin and my own community. Somehow, every time I come close, it blows up in my face and I’m left feeling meh.

There’s something that happens to me when I’m in a room with a bunch of gay guys. I feel small and, as my ex boyfriend so eloquently described me, underwhelming. I’m not a gym bunny or a bear or a rich older man or a teenager that everyone is scrambling to get drunk and in bed. I’m kind of nothing in the gay world right now. I’m a student with a pretty normal, average body, alright hair and nothing else of particular note. I mean I’m pretty tall, but even that seems to not be in at the moment.

Have I passed my prime, or will the attention come back if I just change everything about myself? Or should I just wait until I graduate and can tell people I’m a doctor? That seems a bit pretentious but maybe worth a try and then worth the wait.

The essence of this post is really something that I think every gay man -and probably some of you others but this blog is aimed at gay men – experiences, maybe more often that we’d like to admit to anyone, even ourselves. We feel inadequate. We feel like we’re never attractive enough, fit enough, rich enough, stylish enough, extra enough, or too extra, too fat, too skinny, too boring, too tall, too short and the list just goes on, doesn’t it? I wish I could complain about this and be super unique and could cry about how no one understands. the reality is that it bothers so many people that reading this is probably boring, you’ve seen this all before, just like I have.

I find it incredibly protective to my self worth and image to just be a non-scener. Let’s just stay away from our triggers and become hermits that stay home and have pizza while watching series and smoking cigarettes and drinking wine. More than anything, let’s avoid going to gay venues and running into specific people that make us feel shitty. Fuck those guys.

 

Coming Out

In my weekend haze of sleep and binge eating, I missed coming out day. Hoe embarrassing for me.  If I’m telling the absolute truth, I actually had no idea that I was missing it – I either never knew such a day existed, or I had simply forgotten about it.

I was going to use this post to complain about the fact that gay men and women, not to mention transgender folks and a multitude of other fringe sexualities, actually still have to come out. I was going to use the argument that it’s 2015, and straight people don’t have to come out as straight and blah blah blah. You know, the usual indignation about things that won’t change simply because I’m indignant about it.

I’ve decided against going that route, and would rather say something about how great it is that there is actually a day for coming out. It puts some kind of pressure on society when a mass of young boys and girls all flock to social media on one day to declare themselves normal, and proud of it. I’m using the word normal because that’s exactly what LGBTQI people are, just a different kind of normal. That last sentence was written with my tongue literally nestled in my cheek, its favourite position, by the way.

Not only does it give the individuals actually doing the coming out a chance to start living life as themselves, but it also encourages those not ready this year to potentially start readying themselves for a big reveal next year. We must all know that having a date in mind for the completion of any project helps you and forces you to get it done. It’s no different with coming out. It’s a battle you need to fight and being able to postpone the inevitable makes it so easy to do.

I remember coming out quite well. Actually, that’s a lie. I was 14 at the time, and what i remember the most clearly is the fallout at home and at school. I don’t feel like rehashing the whole thing, it’s not a very entertaining story. What is worth mentioning though, is that people who aren’t too impressed when you tell do get over it and eventually grow the hell up – yes, even mothers.

I’m 22 now and mostly happy and comfortable with the whole thing, even though there are still assholes out there that say fantastically homophobic things to my face. It will happen to anyone, no matter how long you’ve been out or where you’re from or where you fit in to the LGBTQI spectrum, so fear of such immature and most likely dumb folks is no reason to postpone living your best and most honest life.

That’s really all I have on the topic right now. So come out, be you and live your life.

All About That Dating Life

So my previous post raised the question if people, particularly young gay men, still date. It also made me wonder if we don’t date because promiscuity is just so great, or if it’s because the dating pool is shallow at best.

These two things probably aren’t mutually exclusive. I’ve met quite a few guys that I wouldn’t mind dating, but many of them seem to prefer just getting it on and then moving right along. I can’t say that I haven’t been guilty of this. Just last week a boy told me that he loved me and my response was to keep making out, and taking a quick pause to tell him that he must be mistaken.

This particular fellow lives in a different country and is heading back there today actually. I’m avoiding the whole situation until I know he’s safely out of my hood. Does that make me a terrible person?

I’m conflicted. On the one hand I really want to be in the type of successful relationship I see on campus every day. But on the other hand, I like keeping it casual and not giving someone the opportunity to screw me emotionally.

Does it all come down to some form of fear? A fear of commitment, a fear of catching the feels in a real way, a fear of rejection? What about when it becomes boring, which it inevitably has to? Is it all worth the effort and the self-esteem blows?

I haven’t been in a relationship in just about 18 months. I’ve had my fair share of flings and dates, but not one that seemed like it could be a potential life changer – maybe Ben from the last two posts but look how that panned out.

I just joined Tinder for  the one millionth time. I’m telling myself it’s for research – you know, so that I have something to write about on here. Maybe it is to an extent, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the matches and the messages and just the general ego boost when you realize that there are some people out there, albeit not that many, that want to talk to me because they find my Facebook pictures attractive.

That brings me to the next dilemma that us would-be daters have to face. Narcissism.

In a world of TV, Grindr, Tinder, Facebook, Pinterest, the internet in general and even blog sites like Tumblr and Twitter, society is constantly told to look at things. We don’t read like we used to, we don’t talk like we used to. Our interactions are so driven by visual stimulation that we expect nothing but the most beautiful and most stunning. I’m complaining about it yeah, but just like I enjoy a casual fling when I secretly want to date, I also judge on appearances, and way too harshly. I physically struggle to watch movies made before the dawn of CGI, and I hate when lead roles are portrayed by anyone less attractive than Keira Knightly or Matt Bomer.

Dating sites are so bad in this regard. You simply swipe left, ignore a friend request, block, unfollow if someone isn’t as aesthetically pleasing as your dream partner is in your mind’s eye. Imagine we did the same in real life. Imagine for a second someone did the same to you – try approach someone in your class, place of work or in a bar and they simply ignore you or ‘swipe’ you out of their way. It all seems so messed up, and yet we thrive on it. We check our likes on Instagram and our retweets and favourites on Twitter and bask in the glow of having the best follows to following ratios. I’m completely immersed in the culture myself, there is no turning back.

But what does everything I’ve said so far mean? What does it mean for the future of dating, particularly for my future in terms of dating? Well, I guess I don’t know. Do I suck it up and stay single forever, hooking up randomly for as long as possible, or should I go to gym, be on a perpetual diet, be tanned as all hell all the time and hope that someone swipes right?

This is where I’ll end off, no closer to an answer than when I began.