Damaged Goods

I think to say we are all, on some level, a little self conscious is a fair statement. Be it weight issues, hair falling out, small chest, body hair, freckles, a wonky eye, jacked up teeth, being poor, etc. etc. The list goes on and on. For me, I always thought, when I was younger, that I was a bigger boy. Not necessarily 'fat', but stocky. I was on just about every sports team there was, including football, you don't want to be a twig playing football, but I was also... gay. Not that weight stigmas don't exist in the heterosexual community but I think when it comes to gay people, the weight issue for most, is exacerbated in all its superficiality. So when I was old enough to go to the bars or dance clubs I never had the courage to go up and talk to people, let alone get up and dance with someone, unless it was a girl. I was pretty shy when it came to dating, though had I thought up the idea to meet people by cooking them dinner via an ad they read on craigslist - I may have built up my courage at an earlier age.

Be that as it may, I did my somewhat fair share of dating when I was in high school and college, but quickly grew disenchanted with the superficiality that seemed to trail the gay scene. So I focused on work, and at the time, the color guards I was working with. They became so encompassing of my time I convinced myself I was too busy to have a relationship. Even though deep down it was something I was longing for. The funny thing is, when I started my last employ, I was giving what turned out to be pretty good advice to a friend who was in a relationship that was on a slow track to nowhere, when deep down I could see she had feelings for this friend she swore she didn't like in that capacity. She dumped slow poke and has been dating the friend ever since. Am I an oracle? I think so...

With all that being said, when I got sick the last thing on my mind was dating. Afterall, I was going to be lucky to even go home, so why would I want to try to find someone who I couldn't even go on a date with unless he wanted to come share a hot meal sponsored by the Grandview Hospital Cafe'(teria)...

Hello, Goodbye...

Am I ending my short lived blog?  Of course, not - its the only thing I consider work.

I recently stumbled across, through no fault of my own, a video blog on youtube.  Perhaps some of you have seen him, Davey Wavey.  I started watching one or two videos and found his commentary and outlook on things rather interesting, so I spent the next few days watching his blogs... Some of which made me laugh, some made me get a little misty eyed, and the of course others made me think.  I looked at this kid with all his introspective comments and said - "This guy is me".  He's 26, a marketing tool bag, thought provoking and of course... a big ole' homo.

So here I am watching this guy, who I don't know from a hole in the ground and he has a few friends pop in from time to time to be in his 'webisode' (if thats what you call it).  So as I watch these friends appear throughout the videos I started thinking about who I would have in my videos if I was ever to do that.  I started thinking of my close friends, Lauren and Megan... the closest.  But then I started thinking, for some reason, about all the other people I have, at one point or another, called a friend in my 26 years.

I used to think I didn't have many friends, then of course I had an introduction to Facebook and realized I have 313 friends.  (ytd)

Do you ever have those "I wonder what ever happened to 'so and so' from high school, or work or wherever"?  I find myself on facebook asking that a lot.  So as I started browsing through my friends list it was like taking a trip down memory lane.   Seeing someones name pop up on the list would trigger a memory that involved perhaps people who arent on the list.  From grade school, to youth sports, high school, band, winterguard, Kings Island, Cedar Point and teaching band all the way to the hospitals I've been at - I've made friends from all over that even though I don't keep in touch as much as I once did, those people bore some semblance on my life at one point - and Im thankful for that.


I obviously don't hide the fact I get chemo, or when Im in the hospital so I guess I only have myself to blame - but I think my initial dismissive attitude toward people who I hadn't spoken to in a long time, when they would send me facebook messages or emails or even call, was premature - at best.  What I realized was that these people know me, they cared about me at one point of my life when I was a wee bit healthier - and this note is just a reminder that they still care.

I think maybe the dismissiveness came from me just being angry internally about my situation and pulling an internal 'why me' type deal.  I try to not take a day for granted, because the truth is - it could be my last, but isn't that true for all of us?

So these notes I have tucked away in the deep recess of my facbeook or my iMail might just be worth sending a reply to.  Because the truth is, though we said goodbye once before, they had motivation to say 'hello' again, and for that - I am grateful.


So - who knew this blog about Davey Wavey would turn into me talking about old friends I hadn't seen in a while.  Its all about the 'spin' right?

Until next pill... I mean time...

Live it, be it & own it...

I used to be really shy and embarrassed about my body image, my interests and mostly my sexuality.  I wasn't brought up knowing that should I be gay, that was okay.  In fact, the gay lifestyle wasn't something really addressed in our household at all which made my parents discovery that I was gay all that more difficult.  I wasn't afforded the luxury a lot of people are in telling their parents when they are ready.  I used to actually think that I would never tell them, and they would just never find out.  Naive?  Absolutely.

My parents reaction was not positive, and it took a long time for things to even return to a fraction of the normal they were before they found out.   To make it quick - I, obviously, didn't "come out" in the traditional sense.  I had been dating a guy for a very short period of time and he had written me a, for lack of better term, love note.  In the note, he said that he enjoyed kissing me and that he hoped our relationship progressed further and signed it "love, Tommy".  Obviously no parent wants to hear their child is sexually active at 17 no matter what 'type' of sex it is.  But this note was neatly tucked away in my car which my mother proceeded to snoop around in and eventually discovered.  She confronted me with the note and demanded to know if "this" was what I wanted.  This meaning, this lifestyle.  My internal answer was 'yes', but I quiveringly blurted out 'i dont know'.  So after several family counseling sessions I essentially garnered up the courage to just say that, yes indeed this is the path I've chosen and it is what it is. The reaction, while not as gruff was simply "while we might not approve of your livestyle, we can learn to accept it". 

I have never told my parents of any of my relationships - ever.  I make it plural making it sound like there are so many to really talk about.  The truth is, while I wasn't embarrassed, it was more just like the elephant in the room that I'd rather not talk about to make them uncomfortable - even though at times I just wanted to be honest with them and introduce them to my friends, a few of which meant a little more than 'friend'. 

FASTFORWARD.... 

It's no secret that Andrew and I are seeing one another.  Im not embarrassed by it, in fact Im quite proud to be with him.  He is unapologetic for who he is, and the lifestyle he lives. We go out in public together, we hold hands, we hug and bump into each other.  We sit closely on a park bench and share ice cream, we lean on each other and even the occasional kiss.  Its not flaunting a lifestyle per se' its being so comfortable with who you are and the person you're with that despite the looks some may give.  Besides heterosexual couples do those things, so why can't I?

 Life certainly has dealt him a few bad hands though and through his own strengths he's been able to brush them off and keep moving on.  He's loyal to a fault and he is someone I look at and wish I could be more like, truth be told.   So he decided a few weeks ago that he wanted to see a guest speaker that was coming to his former church in Celina and asked if I would like to attend and if I would be interested in meeting his parents.  Of course I said yes.  So a few days before we were to travel north he met with his mom and dad at separate instances and posed the following statement/question.  "Mom/Dad,  you know that I've been dating someone for a while now, and Im really happy.  I was curious if you would be interested in meeting this someone ".  He seemed so self assured that his parents were going to be willing to meet me and that they would be, in essence, extending the olive branch to him accepting his lifestyle - as his coming out was not as enjoyable either.  Sadly, the response he received from his parents was not of acceptance, it was of declination and un-interest with a side of reaffirmation that his lifestyle was unacceptable.  Though his mothers excuse was that it was just too soon.   It goes without saying he was upset to say the least.  

Upon hearing this, I said to him simply - "give them time... they'll come around".  

For the longest time my parents thought that me being gay was probably the worst thing about me.  Not that D I landed in high school latin, or having a credit card bill sky high... yes, that I was gay.  It took me almost dying for them to realize that being gay is okay.  That there were worse things that could happen to me than dating a guy, and those worse things did happen to me and frankly still happen.  Being gay doesn't make me a second class citizen, and most importantly over time I think they realized that even though they had another label to equate with "Ryan" it was one that went right along side "funny, warm, son, caring, driven... etc." Just another part of me.  Its what had all along made me.  And I don't think that Drew's parents are to that point yet, but I have faith they will.  Because the truth is, those two people, who I did not get the pleasure of meeting this weekend, are behind the great guy I get to tightly hold in my arms.   They made him who he is and I wouldn't change one thing about him.   One day I'll meet them, and on that day I'll wear the same smile I wore when I met his sister and her children and offer them the same handshake and hug I offered his sister.  

Somewhere along the line I think being a 'free thinker' became a bad thing - and its not.   Just because some book says somewhere that two dudes shouldn't lay together doesn't negate that those two dudes laying together don't care for each other.  

I care about Drew, and I know he cares about me.  I trust him, and I know he trusts me. He accepts my flaws, and I accept his. But most importantly he makes me happy, and I know I make him happy.  

So despite what his parents say outloud, or even mine for that matter, their knowledge of his happiness has to make them on some level... happy... so own it!