They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder, right? I’m considerably surprised at the number of attractive men who I have complimented who I see as beautiful who reply back with something similar to “thank you, I’m blushing, but I’m not that handsome.” I must be incredibly lucky to have caught a man, (or ten) who are 8’s 9’s and 10’s but treat themselves with such self-hatred that it begs the question, what is wrong with ‘our’ society? In the straight world this has happened to women for years, but it seems to finally be coming to a head in the gay world. Men are judging themselves, judging each other, and tearing themselves apart.
I’m not the crazy fit dancer I used to be in my 20’s. This year’s start to my thirty’s have found me to say, like Idina Menzel would say when accepting the job to play a 20 year old’s mother on Glee after just having her first baby in real life, “I’m fat and I need a job!” While in the straight would I would pass for handsome with a tummy, to many gay men I’m obese and atrocious to even look upon. However, I do not believe this about myself. Maybe it’s that I’m losing the weight steadily and I know I will be swimsuit ready around Christmas time. (Awkward timing, I know. I’ll dream of meeting a nice guy from the land down under and we’ll holiday with Hugh Jackman!) Let me say here and now, if you’re reading this, lucky you! Ha! JK. If you’re reading this, God made you in his image. That image is beautifully divine.
I don’t care for tattoos, okay, most tattoos. Luckily - at least in the gay community - if I’m seeing a guy’s ink it’s because his body is nice enough to be showing skin. With that said, unless the tattoo is phallic, plain disgusting, or offensive, I’m okay with it. It’s his choice. His body. I respect that he’s bold enough to get something forever etched on his life and strong enough to put up with the pain of getting it. That is just one example of respecting another person’s choices that don’t affect me in a negative way. As you can see (at the time I’m writing this) I have my long hair. Longer than I’ve ever had it before. Why? I’m going to donate. Some in The States don’t know, also, maybe they don’t have anything like it in the UK, but there are organizations that will make real hair wigs for children who have lost their own hair to cancer treatment. It’s a really beautiful thing that my high school English Teacher, Mr. Hering, inspired me to do. Long hair was, how do I put this lightly… an abomination on him. It however inspired this boy to do something good for another.
I will probably donate my hair before I go to London. Summer has gotten too darn hot. I keep both long and short hair pictures on my profile because want to be recognized when I meet a man no matter what my hair may look like. This, however, has become a bone of contention with more than the occasional man I get to talk with. Every guy that asks about my hair doesn’t compliment me. They ask: “is it long now or short?” I hear that question and immediately know that guy will say something along the lines of “I like you with short better.” Umm thanks? (It’s almost funny at this point.) I think guys honestly do not realize this comment is rude. You look better skinny to the guy who has lost a bunch of weight. You look better without glasses to the guy who tries contacts on days he goes to Zumba. You look better as a blonde to the guy who tried out a new hair color for summer. And so on and so forth. Guys, may we please stop tearing each other down? Could we share respect and love instead of judgement and cruelness. We get enough of that from the outside world. For instance: Since I’m gay, I’m not allowed to donate blood ever again, in The US. Apparently, even though they test for it, they automatically exclude you from the donation pool so as to avoid getting HIV+ blood. (Guys, I’m negative and on Truvada.)