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JENSEN'S MENU: "Searching For
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by Garth Jensen Long before I knew I was gay, I kept secrets. Nothing worthy of a tragic television movie, but in retrospect, these hidden truths were an early indicator of what my life was destined to be. A life filled with fragments of my identity, compartmentalized in order to manage them amidst the judgment of the outside world. At one point, I actually believed that coming out would be the end of keeping secrets, and an escape from maintaining a false front over my true identity. But I've since learned that life is often a constant and continuing game of juggling various paradoxes, within myself and in others. When I was a child, I loved Wonder Woman, She-Ra, and Barbie. Yet, these were all things I couldn't share with others at the time. Boys weren't supposed to look up to female role models, and were rejected by peers if they did. So my icons were kept secret, and home was the only place where I could be "myself." One time, shortly before Halloween, my Mom came to pick me up from school and as we rode the bus home, and she mentioned that a special friend was coming by to visit. My first question was, "Can they know that I like Wonder Woman and She-Ra?" My Mom assured me that this "friend" would be ok with it. When I walked through the door with my Mom, my jaw dropped when I saw who this "friend" was. I looked up and, right in front of me, there was a She-Ra costume hanging from the wall. I don't know if I actually went out on Halloween as She-Ra, but I also had a Wonder Woman Halloween costume and my parents let me venture out to at least four houses as the Amazing Amazon. My parents were always very supportive of me and my interests (at home.) I felt ok with the secrecy at the time, maybe in part because Wonder Woman herself had a secret identity she used to stay safe in dangerous situations. But I also remember the frustrations of having to keep my female idols hidden. One time, in a fit of early rebellion, I smuggled a Barbie to school with me at the bottom of my bag. Just knowing she was there made me feel better, even without taking the doll out of the bag. But I couldn't hide my "sensitivity," and this was apparent to school teachers who noticed that I was "different." One school psychologist suggested to my Mom that I just "needed to be kicked in the teeth a few times" in order to toughen up. (This is still a problem in education, where teachers willingly turn a blind eye to the cruelty that is heaped upon kids that dare to be "different.") After that, I was quickly moved to another school. Childhood gave way to the teen years, and I could finally admit to loving Wonder Woman. (My first "coming out" of sorts.) But soon, hormones kicked in, and a new split personality was born. At school and with friends, I could be quasi-macho, bring straight porn magazines to class, and convince myself I was straight. At home, I'd stay up late downloading all kinds of nude male pictures out of "curiosity," just to delete them in disgust the next day (or after jacking off.) At school, I could sit in on debates about why homosexuality was wrong, and be perfectly fine with it - even adding a point or two. At home, I started to read and write erotic gay stories, thinking I was just indulging some pesky same-sex fantasies that would go away. I would see the pure hate that ran through some people's faces as they talked about how much they hated gay people. It scared me, and made me angry that these same people who liked me for "who I was" would probably wish I was dead if I revealed my sexuality. During a heated anti-gay classroom debate, I remember only one girl went against the crowd and made it clear she had no problem with homosexuality. I secretly admired her for being brave enough to do that, especially in a setting as hostile as high school. I secretly hated myself for not having the courage to follow her lead at the time. Near the end of high school, Ellen DeGeneres came out on TV, and a little while later, I got myself a membership at an adult video store. While I was getting liberated enough to actually rent gay porn, I still felt the need to rent a straight vid along with every gay one, because I was "bi-sexual" at that point. Even in the relative anonymity of an adult video store, I still couldn't "be myself" because I feared the judgments of the clerks behind the counter. It was also towards the end of high school that I fell head over heels for a guy who danced with me, kissed me, and told me he loved me at a party. He was straight. But now - finally - I knew I was gay. A tumultuous Summer followed, in which I struggled with this newfound acknowledgment of my sexuality. I couldn't "come out" publicly, or to family, but I wrote a six page letter to the straight guy I was infatuated with. I insisted that I was straight in the letter, though my slobbering prose about being interested in a friendship with him probably gave me away. But this infatuation prompted me to come out to one of my closest friends, who was also gay. The irony? He reacted quite negatively at the time, insisting that he must have "influenced" me in some way, and told me I needed time alone to deal with it. After this less-than-stellar coming out, I continued the split in my personality. Straight by day, gay by night (and in finer adult video stores.) University arrived, and I had long thought if there were any place that I would deal with my sexuality, it would be here. The first year went by and the straight charade worked a bit longer, but in my second year I finally opened up one of my hidden compartments. I came out to a school friend, who was quickly becoming very close to me, and it was a rush of adrenaline that I had never felt before. I was finally working towards being myself, and feeling comfortable - even beginning to feel understood - with the people I cared about. (This was quite the opposite of my first coming out.) I started to fall in love with this friend, and that prompted me to tell my parents the truth. My Mom's first reaction was to say, "I care more about your grades." Shortly after that, my Mom did cry about it, but my Dad reassured her "We love him no matter what." It was an era of change, but I thank God that it worked out as well as it did. Not too long after, though, I realized that as much as you can feel liberated and be yourself, you get new compartments and secrets that replace the old ones. The school friend I came out to got sexually involved with me, and wanted me to keep it a secret. Apparently he was straight, and eventually got married to a woman (after she got knocked up with his child.) Our friendship went to hell when he wanted me to be the best man at his wedding. (I was insulted, considering it was barely a year since I was his "best man" behind closed doors.) I was also shocked to realize that my hairdresser of more than ten years was homophobic. A conversation about Ricky Martin led to a rant about people "not being put on this earth to be gay." As a black woman, I assumed she would have known how hurtful and disgusting prejudice and ignorance would be, yet she had no qualms about judging homosexuality. I stopped going to her, and I've never had a regular hairdresser since. (I never bothered coming out to her, and sometimes regret the fact that I didn't make it clear why I was never coming back.) It's only now that I realize that life is about dealing with constant paradoxes, compartments, and fragments of truth. (With a few dashes of irony to add flavour.) Coming out wasn't the one stop solution to any of these issues. In fact, after coming out, I started to see the problems within the gay community itself. The enduring idea that media and community encourage people to be themselves, yet the subtext suggests that you still must fit a certain ideal. Now that I'm "out," I have to deal with trying to be "proud" of myself as an overweight gay man. I have to deal with friends who were supposed to be there for life, but have changed and left me behind. I have to deal with the separation of love and sexuality, and the paradox of loving people who don't want my feelings being made public, despite my attempts to be as out and proud as possible. I have to deal with people I've extended friendliness to, who then go behind my back to explain why I'm a "loser" and insist they tried to "tolerate" me, but couldn't because apparently I don't live my life according to their standards. (This person's "standards" include constant trips to the gym, shallow and immature judgments of others, and a need to judge whether or not the people they're with will "bring down" their social attractiveness to other people. I've seen this person listen to and sing along with Armand Van Helden's anthemic "U Don't Know Me" without even realizing that they judge others in the same way that the song denounces.) This is the very essence of what I hope to fight against - the idea that even after you come out and tell the world you're proud of being yourself, you can still face the harshest of judgments within the "safe haven" of the gay community. It would be ridiculous to say the whole community is like this, but there are people who live with this arrogant attitude, bringing down the whole experience of being proud to be yourself. I'm writing this as Halloween 2004 approaches, and I plan on going out dressed up as Wonder Woman. Reprising the part of the Amazing Amazon serves as a reminder to be proud of who I am, express what I love, and wear that outside. It's coming full circle in a sense. I think back to that one girl who went against the homophobic crowd in high school, and realize that we all need to go against the crowd to be ourselves, no matter how comfortable or established we think we may be. I gain strength from the fact that as inconsistent as life is, it's an ongoing, evolving process. Growth can only come from finding that courage to go against the norm and not only come out in terms of sexuality. But come out within the subdivided communities as a unique individual who will refuse to be judged by the shallow standards of the outside world. It's easier said than done, but will be the true measure of how far we can distance ourselves from the secrets and lies that we've all grown up with. I'll continue to revamp this page over time. For now, also check out my service provider Inter.Net. And e-mail me at arrikj@ca.inter.net |