Married Gay Man

December 12, 2023

Possession by My Mother’s Soul

I’m genuinely over war. I’ve grown weary of the constant state of creation of weapons to destroy people deemed “our enemies.” It’s exhausted and I no longer want to participate in it.

Now I can hear what some might say, “What if they try and attack you?” Let them. Let us use our weapons of “mass destruction” (oh, the irony) in use for defense instead of offense. Why waste resources and LIVES for the sake of… what?

It is abundantly clear that the primary purpose of war is for wealth creation. Not for the people, but for the select few who have access to this power. Whether it be directly or by association. I refuse to participate in the accumulation of wealth for those who see me as a pawn in a ridiculous chess game.

What is happening in Gaza is a display of overkill. It is genocide. You have a group of people isolated so much that to bomb them eliminates there presence, especially if they are not allowed to leave.

To justify their actions of “retaliation” by stating “they did it first!” makes one sound like a child. It’s amazing to me how many Christians will support this behavior when it is reported in their holy book to “turn the other cheek so that they may strike it too.”

Christ was a pacifist. To seek retribution only makes one the same as the one who instigated the first unwarranted attack.

This is a point I wrestled with the most as a child, growing up in the church. I wanted satisfaction. I wanted revenge on those who had hurt me. My mother was such an advocate for pacifism. She taught me that it didn’t matter, to just walk away. Lowering yourself to their level only proves that you are just like them.

At the time I hated hearing it and refused to let what doing so meant.

Seeing the hatred some gays have toward the “queers for Palestine” is truly unnerving. I get that we don’t have shared experiences or life lessons, but to advocate for the destruction of the people of Gaza because some of them “kill gays” is not a justification. At that point they are no better than the Muslims who want to kill them for being homosexual.

“You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ But I say to you, Do not resist one who is evil. But if any one strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also” (Matthew 5:38-39 RSV).

For the life of me I cannot believe I am quoting the bible in a non-ironic way. My mother’s spirit must have possessed me. There is no other explanation, because I am an athiest and think all religions are cults.

I have just reached a point in my life that I fully comprehend that: death is inevitable. We will be taken regardless of what we have done/do. If someone kills me for being gay, well, so be it. I am going to die one way or another. If it is at the hands of someone else’s bigotry that speaks of their character and not mine.

I will not concern myself with that fear anymore. Much like they should not concern themselves with how I live my life.

That said… I also won’t roll-over and “accept my fate” if I cannot escape any possible “threat.” Self preservation and the safety of those I love is my top priority. I just refuse to destroy my “soul” (for lack of a better word) by lowering myself to their way thought.

August 24, 2023

Homosexuality U-Turn

It is strange how a piece of news, totally unrelated to one’s life and story, could cause such a visceral reaction in oneself. The other day I got news that a close acquaintance of mine has decided that he “no longer wants to be gay.” He discovered this new feeling about himself after having been married to his high school boyfriend (and only recently got divorced from), after go-go dancing at multiple gigs, into pup play, having an OnlyFans for a short period of time, and then diving headfirst/balls-to-the-wall into a new relationship with a mutual friend. The mutual friend said he woke up at 1 A.M. to find that the “ex-gay” had left. The reason he gave was he didn’t want to be gay anymore.

I want to point out that all of those things he’s done are not bad. As long as he wasn’t hurting anyone (other than himself, apparently) then there is nothing wrong. Live your life, gurl.

I am genuinely dumbfounded. I have this whole tirade I could (and previously did before I deleted it) about religion and the toxicity it creates, but I chose not to. Just know I loathe religion of any kind. Faith should be a personal, spiritual journey where one opens their heart and mind to what could be out there. Yet, instead it is used as a means to control the masses. I am not about control.

After some lengthy discussion with my BF I discovered that this friend has always wanted a relationship with his parents. He doesn’t have one because of his “sinful” life. And when he had started dating this mutual friend, he got back into church and I think it all snowballed from there. But considering who he was dating, I’m wondering if he was just spinning out of control and is in the midst of an identity crisis. (I mean… clearly.)

Focusing on just the parental relationship aspect, this unlocked all levels of trauma for me. When I came out to my mother it was absolutely not received well. At all. My mother legitimately did not speak a word to me for 3 months and chose to pretend I did not exist whenever I would happen to occupy her orbit. At some point my mother softened and eventually progressed to the point that she signed my marriage license and would refer to my husband as her son-in-law. I loved that, however fleeting it was. My mother’s dementia took her mind back to “pre-acceptance mom,” where she was a homophobic cunt. (Sorry, mom, not sorry.) She refused to live with me because we were gay. She would repeatedly ask me why I never had kids or get married. It sucked. So much.

Hearing him make this “choice” is disheartening. He is choosing to forego his own joy to possibly have a relationship with someone who has ALREADY SHOWN that his feelings and thoughts are not valid. She wants a fake him, not the real thing. This hurts my heart for him. At least I had a moment of acceptance before it was ruined. He’s never had anything.

Looking at all the facts: what we can see and experience, this is it. We just have this moment. Right now. We are not guaranteed anything, other than it will not last. There is no proof to an after life. Nothing concrete. (However there is more proof to reincarnation than an afterlife.) To throw one’s one opportunity for joy away to please some uppity cunt who can’t get over her own brainwashing is some of the dumbest shit. Life is a journey and sometimes not everyone is going to accompany you on it. And that’s okay.

June 16, 2023

A Snowball Straight to Hell

Dude… the world is going to shit. I am astounded at the depths the Republican Party will sink in their quest to… what? I have no idea what the end goal is. I don’t understand. Are they sowing hate and division because they’re actively trying to start a civil war? Have they been corrupted by and actively working for a foreign power? Or is it that their platform has nothing to offer the everyday person that they get them riled up about shit that doesn’t concern them? Whatever the reason it’s finally reached me in my personal life.

It started as an innocent question. One of my co-workers, who knows I boycott hate-chicken, asked me if I was going to stop going to Starbucks because of their new policy that the stores must remove pride decorations effective immediately. I just groaned and said, “I don’t know.” As I took a sip from my iced mocha from the bucks.

From there it quickly devolved into a tirade by him that I would respond with (or attempt to) a different perspective. He was hitting all the same Fox News misinformation talking points. One that stuck out to me was he reiterated this bs point my niece had said to me about a little kids “tucking bathing suits.” Like it did the first time I had heard it, I immediately thought “that is bullshit.” But I won’t speak on something unless I know for a doubt. And I can’t even remember the last time I went into a Target store. So I answered with “if that’s true then just don’t buy it.” Then he gave me some ridiculous thing “about the kids.” Which is funny to me because this the same guy who made a point to showcase his NRA hat in the office parking lot so I would see it, (this was after I had made some comment, to my husband on the phone, by the way) and has no problem with “the little guys” getting murdered at school. So. Spare me the bullshit about “the kids.” Literally, the number one killer of kids in this country is guns.

This conversation escalated to a point where he made a “veiled threat” that I “didn’t want to make him mad.” That’s when I freaked out. Okay. That’s the end of it. And I shut down. However he clearly had an ax to grind and wanted to use it, so he kept going.

The second half of the conversation was him telling me what I have experienced in life. Like, how I didn’t know I was gay when I was a kid. One, I did. But two, the other kids who teased and bullied me, they called me faggot and gay way before I even knew. I VIVIDLY remember the moment I asked my mom what gay was. She explained it to me. I sat quiet for a moment and then said “maybe I am.” This was at 7 fucking years old. Her negative overreaction made me backpedal so fast, I should have gotten whiplash.

This argument crescendoed into him angrily asking me if I had ever been bullied. This was after I tried to answer all of his “questions,” yet he didn’t want to hear them. He just wanted to rant.

Finally he let me answer and I told him, “honestly, dude, I feel bullied right now.”

This dude exploded. He stormed through the office, slamming drawers and the front door, shouting. For the life of me I don’t remember what he said because I just wanted this to be over with. I am NOT a confrontational person. I like to think I am but I am ultimately a coward.

He left and I was dumbfounded. Never in my 20 years of employment had I ever experienced anything like that. Ever. Yeah I knew that there were people who didn’t like me. Sure. But never had I been subjected to this. It was unhinged.

I wasn’t going to say anything to my “boss.” If he asked where he was I would just say “give him a call.” I wanted him to explain it.

Up until yesterday I genuinely thought we were buds. He had until then been super sweet and this behavior was super uncharacteristic of what I had seen. So I can only draw two conclusions, he was riled up about some bullshit these people are peddling to rile up “the base” or he is bipolar. And I want to immediately state there is nothing wrong with that. At all. I am not shaming him. It’s just now I know.

He returned, calmer headed, and I immediately apologized. I should have stopped it after the first half by saying “hey we’re both heated, let’s not talk about this anymore.” But I didn’t. I instead chose to make this a “learning moment” because I stupidly thought I could offer my friend a different perspective. He just didn’t want one.

At the end of the day he had apologized to me twice. Once after I had and the other before he left, slapping me on the back.

I am just at a loss. I’m super depressed. The office used to be my one safe place. My one “haven” where I had some control. That’s all gone. I’m shutting up and shutting down. Work will just be me clickety-clacketing away while I listen to music or podcasts.

After I had apologized he had the nerve to say “well I don’t want this to stop you from talking about your life.” Oh, you mean my life that is “political?” Sure, jan.

My favorite part was, “I have gay friends.” No you fucking don’t, bitch. You have stand-ins, props. Either that or you have the faggots that try so hard to please their heterosexual counterparts to “fit in.” They thrive on your approval. I on the other hand do not give a shit. I learned at a very young age that my peers approval was temporary and situational.

My boss spoke with me and him. He said to keep “politics” and religion out of the office. You got it, boss! You can count on me.

June 2, 2023

On Repeat in My Head

The hubby and I have had many odd adventures throughout our nearly 20 years together. The weirder and more bizarre the better. They are the stories we tell when we’re drunk with friends or strangers. And I try and stick to the actual events as much as possible, because nothing is more disingenuous than fabricating details of a story to try and make it funny. It’s why I could never be a comedian. I can’t lie about details for the sake of a laugh.

I have this habit of putting a single song on repeat for hours, until the song holds little to no meaning for me. What I have discovered in my many TikToks is this is a habit of people with ADHD. Well, you pegged me again, you creepy app. Since last night I have been obsessed with a YouTube video of an unreleased Taylor Swift song. I don’t quite understand why this one didn’t make the cut for her album, it is truly phenomenal and I am OBSESSED. I’d post it here but I don’t want it to somehow get caught by the TSMachine and have them remove it. My queen should just release it! But she’s probably just waiting to do so with Lover Taylor’s Version. Sneaky gal.

Todays obsession reminded me of my first trip to London for my Honeymoon/Birthday. We dove head first into this trip without any careful planning. All we had on the agenda was our stay, a trip to Leavesden to experience the sets of Harry Potter (a different time kids), and we had purchased the “London Pass.” Nothing more. Which is kind of our M.O., honestly. I personally feel like that is the best way to travel because it always results in the weirdest stories. As in this one…

Charlie had asked “what are the most ‘English’ things you can do?” And the most obvious and desperately pathetic was to have “authentic” fish and chips. Of course we’ve had them here, but I thought maybe (just maybe) they were different in the land in which is originated. And… It did not disappoint.

The newly minted husband researched and found a place that was supposedly “the best fish and chips in London.” Obviously they had given themselves that name because… Dear god.

We grabbed a black cabby and made our way across town to a residential neighborhood to go to this hole in the wall restaurant. We walked in and the fry cook was listening to this sad, somber song at ear splitting levels. We made our order and then went and sat on the right side of the shop which I thought was this huge dining area. Oh no. It was this thin strip of space, with a counter attached to the wall with a full length mirror immediately above.

“This is going to be fun,” I had said, gesturing to my reflection. “I get to watch myself as I eat!”

“Eh, it’ll be fine.”

As we waited the sound level of the music was undeterred. At least it was an okay song. I have a tendency of getting easily irritated with music I do not like.

We got our fish and began eating. That’s when we became abundantly clear that the scales were still on the unbattered side of the fish.

“Oh my god,” I said, showing him the steely-gray side of my meal.

“Oh, that’s weird,” Charlie said, “Maybe that’s just… No. Mine too. Maybe that’s just how they do it.”

“Well, they’re doing it wrong.”

He chuckled, “Is that so? The place that originated-“

“Yes.”

As we picked it at our fish, trying to avoid the scales and the reflection of our grimaces in the mirror, it became abundantly clear that the song that had been playing when we walked in was on repeat. I started to laugh to myself as I concocted this elaborate story in my head how the fry cook was going through a recent break-up and just could not stop listening to this song.

I imagined the cashier reaching their limit and turning to him, “Oy, Trev, please play anything else. I beg of you!”

And Trevor would continue on, frying fish and singing along to the song. (Did I mention the fry cook had been singing along to the multiple repeats?)

The two of us couldn’t stand looking at ourselves eat this scaly fish any longer, while Trevor went through the motions, so we headed out onto the street and walked back to our hotel.

This is where I fell even more in love with the city. (Side note, it was guy fox day.) The gentle orange glow of the street lamps lit our way, as we passed by an old, old, old cemetery and a couple of boys who were kissing and hugging until they saw us coming their way. I wanted to say “Don’t worry, boys, this is my husband.”

Now that I have successfully bored you with my lackluster story, I will return to my repeated listen to “Need” by Taylor Swift. Please, excuse me.