I can tolerate a lot of people. And I can tolerate a lot of actions from people who I encounter.
But by far, the worst type of people who wander into my universe are those individuals who many may refer to as “cock blockers”.
In case you’ve been asleep under a rock for the past century, I’ll explain the concept to you. A cock blocker can be described in a few ways, but for this blog post, this is the description. He or she is a person who, basically, interrupts another person when that person is in the middle of holding a conversation, getting to know someone, or is in the midst of connecting romantically with another. A cock blocker’s main goal is to connect with the person already being pursued by a competitor, in the hopes that they will get in there and make some leeway first.
I really dislike a person who does this. They are not only rude and disrespectful, but they are just plain fake. And the worst ones are the cock blockers who actually try to play it off like I’ve been friends with them for years, but they hardly even know my last name.
Now I don’t care for these individuals. But Miss Bernadine, now she just tries her best to not slap them across the face, all the while with a smile. There are just too many out there, and they need to stop – IMMEDIATELY!
I think cock blockers are just desperate. They don’t really have a lot of self esteem if they need to redeem their insecurities by proving they have the capability of snatching another’s intended catch. What gets into these individuals? Why do they have this innate need to one-up another person?
And hell, don’t let them see you talking closely with a newbie, someone who is pretty new to the scene … they will descend on you and that prey like freaking vultures! They don’t even pull you aside for two seconds and make sure you aren’t interested; the cock blocker is interested, and that’s all they care about. Screw any sort of friendship they might have with you; with cock blockers, it’s every man and woman for themselves.
And you can see them coming from a mile away. When a person who rarely speaks to you makes a beeline over to you, and you are already conversing with a good looking person, chances are their intentions are clear as a Saran wrap – they want what you are trying to have.
So now, I’m putting this out there so Miss Bernadine’s intentions are clear. If you are a cock blocker, or plan to be a cock blocker in my presence, you will be called out and embarrassed. I’m not even going to pull you aside and do it; you will get the treatment out in the open, in front of everyone. You will be called out as a cock blocker (in addition to other terms that I’m not going to use in print), and there will be no apology!
My parents brought me up so that I have some sort of class, charm and respect. And I try my damndest to show that to everyone I meet and know. But trust, Mr. or Ms. Cock blocker, if your parents didn’t bring you up that way and you insist on showing me and others disrespect, those lessons I learned growing up will be tossed right out the window when dealing with you.
This has always been a problem with a number of individuals in the LGBTQ community, and I have no idea why. Can someone explain this to me? Is there that much competition out there that you must hoard in like a vulture picking off prey in the night? Have you no home training? Were you raised by wolves?
Speaking to a few people, I’m glad that these individuals don’t just irritate me; it irritates, bewilders and angers many others.
Now cock blockers, I’m not saying you have to like me or respect me. Hell, you don’t have to like or respect any of my brothers and sisters in the community. But I just ask one thing of you – show at least a sliver of respect for yourself, because you are looking desperate, overly-horny, and to top it off, you are getting a bad reputation and friends won’t want to bring others around you, thus losing friends in the process.
Take my advice or ignore it. The choice is totally up to you. But steer clear of Miss Bernadine; she’s had enough.
Sorry if it seems like this angers me more than other things, but I just can't tolerate some things, no matter how hard I try. I'm working on it, but just like the rest of the population, I'm a work in progress.
Tuesday, January 12, 2016
Tuesday, December 15, 2015
Whether you like it or not, we fall into certain categories in our communities
We in the community always have a certain flair for describing each other. Be it in love or dislike, most of us always speak our minds.
I was having a rather lighthearted conversation with someone a couple of weeks ago, and all of the sudden, in the middle of our talk, he referred to me as a dream lover. No, he wasn’t interested in me – that’s not why he said it. He said it because I was telling him about the first man who ever said he was interested in me.
In short, the first man who was openly interested in me was this older gentleman, a wealthy antique dealer who was at least two decades my senior. This was about 13 years ago when I first came out, and although I was flattered that he wanted to be in a relationship with me, it was just not the right time for me.
To be honest, I wasn’t really attracted to him – I had sex with him the first day I met him because he liked me and I wanted someone that particular night. Hey, don’t judge – sometimes the lady really is a tramp.
Anyway, my friend said I was a dream lover, as he put it, because he joked that I always have to know that down the road I will eventually find myself in love with the person I get involved with and I rarely can look past the passion – or lack thereof – and just grab an old, rich man and settle for security because love is overrated.
See, he used to be a dream lover – waiting for the perfect man. He did that for years … until he took a long, hard look at himself in the mirror and said to himself, “Screw finding love; I’m finding a rich man who wants to be with me and support me.”
So he took his good looks and went to a club in Manhattan where older men frequent, and boom – he found his older gentleman. The two have been together for almost 10 years now. He admits he’s still not in love with his man, but it affords him the ability to work at a non-profit without being paid much.
But I digress. The focus of this blog post isn’t discussing his life’s choices. The main point is that we were discussing the concept of the many classifications upon us in life. It turned into a hilarious conversation because of the classifications. These are not set in stone or terms everyone uses – meaning it was just a funny discussion between two friends that I thought I’d share.
Here’s just a few of them:
The dream lovers, as described, usually end up waiting for the white knights to ride up with the perfect love, but we need to stop dreaming because that rarely happens. So that’s the dream lovers.
Then there are the maestros. Those individuals are very skilled at their game and usually have their pick of who they want to enter into sexual relations with, and who also rarely care about how it affects the person they take home with them. Maestros rarely ever get their hearts broken, because they are breaking the hearts of those they bring home.
Then there are the HGNs. This term, already out there and used frequently, is the shortened term for hot gay nerds. These are the sexy men who are into the world of science, technology, video games, fantasy worlds of some sort, animations, gadgets, internet start-ups … you get the point. These individuals are cute brainiacs who can stimulate your mind as well as your body and soul.
We were discussing the dogged. Now these individuals literally look like they’ve been around the block a few thousand times. They’ve been with everyone and anyone, and don’t care that their reputation is shot to hell. The only thing about the dogged ones is that they’ve already been through about 70 percent of the population on the East Coast, and not many people are interested in seriously being with them at all. A don’t see them too often, but when I do, all I really feel for them is a sort of pity.
Then there are the smooth operators. Now these people might be the maestros, but there only thing distinguishing them from maestros is that for the most part, everyone already knows their moves. Sometimes these people are just too smooth for their own good. Their targets see them coming a mile away and already have made up their minds if they want to deal with them or not.
We discussed those individuals who fall into the “adorable” category. He said that I often fall into that category, but of course Miss Bernadine (my alter – for those who’ve just met me) knocks me out of that category when she’s around. To be truthful, I find adorable guys, well, adorable. Everything about them is adorable. Their thoughts, the way they carry themselves, their genuine qualities, how they make you feel very comfortable in their presence. Adorable guys just get my juices revving, if I must say so myself.
Then we were discussing the ruggedly handsome. I’ve spoken about those men from time to time; those gentle men who could, literally, toss me around like a rag doll (I think you get my point with that description). They are sexy, strong, confidant, very friendly and they just have that innate ability to make a person feel safe when in their presence.
We bantered about the confused. These individuals really don't know what the hell they are doing. They enter into romantic entanglements, most times with their eyes sealed shut, and they make a mess of it. Then they will ultimately complain about their harrowing experience, and then in their next romance, they repeat the same mistakes over again. They are cute but clueless.
The victims. Now discussing these individuals almost made me want to cry - or vomit. Victims are those put-upon people who always seem to be the victim, play the victim, act like a victim, or fake it as a victim. "Woe is me" is their song of choice, and they will never change until they get stronger or more confident in themselves. Another group that's cute but clueless, but unlike the confused, these individuals will get on your nerves.
Oh, then we spoke about the pretty boyz. They are all around, and my friend is lumped into that category (although he vehemently protests that distinction because he says he’s much more than that). Pretty boyz can be fun, loving, lively and a great joy to be around. There’s only one problem – with some pretty boyz, a lot of admirers are a bit fearful of approaching them because they are so pretty. It’s a Catch-22, because they could be the best match for someone but their pretty looks and actions sometimes make them seem unattainable.
It’s easy to find that you fall into more than one category. Sometimes that's a good thing; sometimes not so much. But wherever you fall, enjoy it while you can.
So, my friends, this was part of that conversation. I thought it’d be a funny thing to write up. Can you see yourself in any of those categories? There are undoubtedly more categories, and these descriptions go for both men and women.
My final statement to him during our conversation on this subject:
“Dream lover?!? You couldn’t lump me into the pretty boyz category? … Bitch!”
I was having a rather lighthearted conversation with someone a couple of weeks ago, and all of the sudden, in the middle of our talk, he referred to me as a dream lover. No, he wasn’t interested in me – that’s not why he said it. He said it because I was telling him about the first man who ever said he was interested in me.
In short, the first man who was openly interested in me was this older gentleman, a wealthy antique dealer who was at least two decades my senior. This was about 13 years ago when I first came out, and although I was flattered that he wanted to be in a relationship with me, it was just not the right time for me.
To be honest, I wasn’t really attracted to him – I had sex with him the first day I met him because he liked me and I wanted someone that particular night. Hey, don’t judge – sometimes the lady really is a tramp.
Anyway, my friend said I was a dream lover, as he put it, because he joked that I always have to know that down the road I will eventually find myself in love with the person I get involved with and I rarely can look past the passion – or lack thereof – and just grab an old, rich man and settle for security because love is overrated.
See, he used to be a dream lover – waiting for the perfect man. He did that for years … until he took a long, hard look at himself in the mirror and said to himself, “Screw finding love; I’m finding a rich man who wants to be with me and support me.”
So he took his good looks and went to a club in Manhattan where older men frequent, and boom – he found his older gentleman. The two have been together for almost 10 years now. He admits he’s still not in love with his man, but it affords him the ability to work at a non-profit without being paid much.
But I digress. The focus of this blog post isn’t discussing his life’s choices. The main point is that we were discussing the concept of the many classifications upon us in life. It turned into a hilarious conversation because of the classifications. These are not set in stone or terms everyone uses – meaning it was just a funny discussion between two friends that I thought I’d share.
Here’s just a few of them:
The dream lovers, as described, usually end up waiting for the white knights to ride up with the perfect love, but we need to stop dreaming because that rarely happens. So that’s the dream lovers.
Then there are the maestros. Those individuals are very skilled at their game and usually have their pick of who they want to enter into sexual relations with, and who also rarely care about how it affects the person they take home with them. Maestros rarely ever get their hearts broken, because they are breaking the hearts of those they bring home.
Then there are the HGNs. This term, already out there and used frequently, is the shortened term for hot gay nerds. These are the sexy men who are into the world of science, technology, video games, fantasy worlds of some sort, animations, gadgets, internet start-ups … you get the point. These individuals are cute brainiacs who can stimulate your mind as well as your body and soul.
We were discussing the dogged. Now these individuals literally look like they’ve been around the block a few thousand times. They’ve been with everyone and anyone, and don’t care that their reputation is shot to hell. The only thing about the dogged ones is that they’ve already been through about 70 percent of the population on the East Coast, and not many people are interested in seriously being with them at all. A don’t see them too often, but when I do, all I really feel for them is a sort of pity.
Then there are the smooth operators. Now these people might be the maestros, but there only thing distinguishing them from maestros is that for the most part, everyone already knows their moves. Sometimes these people are just too smooth for their own good. Their targets see them coming a mile away and already have made up their minds if they want to deal with them or not.
We discussed those individuals who fall into the “adorable” category. He said that I often fall into that category, but of course Miss Bernadine (my alter – for those who’ve just met me) knocks me out of that category when she’s around. To be truthful, I find adorable guys, well, adorable. Everything about them is adorable. Their thoughts, the way they carry themselves, their genuine qualities, how they make you feel very comfortable in their presence. Adorable guys just get my juices revving, if I must say so myself.
Then we were discussing the ruggedly handsome. I’ve spoken about those men from time to time; those gentle men who could, literally, toss me around like a rag doll (I think you get my point with that description). They are sexy, strong, confidant, very friendly and they just have that innate ability to make a person feel safe when in their presence.
We bantered about the confused. These individuals really don't know what the hell they are doing. They enter into romantic entanglements, most times with their eyes sealed shut, and they make a mess of it. Then they will ultimately complain about their harrowing experience, and then in their next romance, they repeat the same mistakes over again. They are cute but clueless.
The victims. Now discussing these individuals almost made me want to cry - or vomit. Victims are those put-upon people who always seem to be the victim, play the victim, act like a victim, or fake it as a victim. "Woe is me" is their song of choice, and they will never change until they get stronger or more confident in themselves. Another group that's cute but clueless, but unlike the confused, these individuals will get on your nerves.
Oh, then we spoke about the pretty boyz. They are all around, and my friend is lumped into that category (although he vehemently protests that distinction because he says he’s much more than that). Pretty boyz can be fun, loving, lively and a great joy to be around. There’s only one problem – with some pretty boyz, a lot of admirers are a bit fearful of approaching them because they are so pretty. It’s a Catch-22, because they could be the best match for someone but their pretty looks and actions sometimes make them seem unattainable.
It’s easy to find that you fall into more than one category. Sometimes that's a good thing; sometimes not so much. But wherever you fall, enjoy it while you can.
So, my friends, this was part of that conversation. I thought it’d be a funny thing to write up. Can you see yourself in any of those categories? There are undoubtedly more categories, and these descriptions go for both men and women.
My final statement to him during our conversation on this subject:
“Dream lover?!? You couldn’t lump me into the pretty boyz category? … Bitch!”
Sunday, November 8, 2015
I don't regret the times, but I don't want to be Penelope Pitstop either
A mysterious funky mood falls over me every once in a while. I have no idea why it happens, but it just occurs and stays for short time. This happens to all of us, but for me, I know it’s just residual feelings about a vicious cycle in my life.
Whenever this occurs, there are two songs that I listen to incessantly. The first song, “Alone Again, Naturally” by Gilbert O’Sullivan, speaks to me on so many levels. You see, in my relations over the years, I’ve found myself getting involved with individuals who aren’t really in a position to get involved with me for any long-term situation.
My last blog post, “Sometimes an affair to remember should not be forgotten,” addressed the fact that any sort of sexual indiscretion should be treasured and not regretted because it makes you the person you are today. And that I, myself, never feel guilty over any of mine.
Well, perhaps I don’t feel guilty, but I do look inside myself to figure out something that continues to elude me. I try to figure out why, even though I don’t regret it, why I sometimes (upon reflection) feel a little slighted.
Well I know why, and I must admit, it’s a little shameful to admit out loud. In a number of those situations, I always feel like I’m just the pit stop for the guy to reach his ultimate goal. They tend to find their loving partners after they spend time in my universe.
Sad to say, but there are two types of lovers – the ones you want in your future, and the ones you can only see in your past. This situation always reminds me of “The Way We Were.”
A brief synopsis of the film if you’ve not seen it: Barbra Streisand’s character, Katie, falls in love with Hubbell Gardiner, played by Robert Redford. Hubbell is a WASP who aspires to be a screenwriter; Katie is a politically active Jew, and after the two marry, her activism threatens Hubbell’s reputation in the industry. The two divorce some years later and both move on to other spouses. He marries a simple, Jackie Kennedy-type woman, but it is so evident that, even though Katie was so strong-willed, that is exactly the type of woman he needs.
This marks my point: Most men know they need to be with a partner who is safe, the Jackie Kennedy-type when you are making your moves upward in your gay life. But those men are well aware that you do need those activists who don’t sit back quietly and take the safe route in life, the guys who will challenge you to make the uneasy choices, and who’ll stand right by your side, not two steps behind you.
Some of us are Katie; some of us aren’t. I know that in certain relations, I’m too much of a Katie; it’s inbred in me, and I can’t change that about me. That may cause me to find that I’m the type that guys can only see in their past, because I don’t walk two steps behind the man I get involved with … I walk beside that man, or, *gulp*, in front of him. I’ve never been a shrinking violet. And who truly wants to be involved with the Jackie Kennedy-type of guy? Well, it appears a lot of guys do.
So this is one of the reasons I find myself in that funky mood at different times, when I feel like people just don’t understand me or get me. So it’s these times that I listen to Gilbert O’Sullivan’s song.
Now I said that I listen to two songs during these moods. The other song is sort of my redemption song, what I play in my head – and on my radio – over and over. This song, Gladys Knight and the Pips’ “I’ve Got to Use My Imagination,” is sort of an anthem for me.
This song reminds me that, although I may not be everyone’s dream husband material, I have a hell of a lot of things to offer, and if guys can’t see that and only look at being involved with me as a pit stop to their future ex-husband when boredom sets in, it’s their loss not mine.
There is a verse in the song that trumpets for me:
“Staring down reality
Don't do me no good
'Cause our misunderstanding
Is too well understood
Such a sad, sad season
When a good love dies
Not a day goes by
When I don't realize
I've really got to use my imagination
To think of good reasons
To keep on keepin' on”
Yes, sometimes we all must use our imagination, just to keep on keepin’ on. So, I guess this is something I need to work on changing about myself, allowing men to use me as a pit stop. I’m determined to break this cycle – even if it kills me.
The song, it just puts a pep in my step and I just grab a scarf and get to dancing – by myself, with others; heck, anything I see.
Now I don’t regret any of the “pit stops,” because it has made me the man I am today. I love myself first and foremost, so I know that as long as I have a strong and abiding love for myself, that’s the best I can have … next to God’s love.
So for those many men – the “Hubbells” in my life over the years – who have considered me their pit stop, I thank you. That probably sounds weird, but if not for all of you, the man I ultimately settle down with will know that he was chosen, not settled upon. And he will accept the “Katie” in me for all her glory.
Whenever this occurs, there are two songs that I listen to incessantly. The first song, “Alone Again, Naturally” by Gilbert O’Sullivan, speaks to me on so many levels. You see, in my relations over the years, I’ve found myself getting involved with individuals who aren’t really in a position to get involved with me for any long-term situation.
My last blog post, “Sometimes an affair to remember should not be forgotten,” addressed the fact that any sort of sexual indiscretion should be treasured and not regretted because it makes you the person you are today. And that I, myself, never feel guilty over any of mine.
Well, perhaps I don’t feel guilty, but I do look inside myself to figure out something that continues to elude me. I try to figure out why, even though I don’t regret it, why I sometimes (upon reflection) feel a little slighted.
Well I know why, and I must admit, it’s a little shameful to admit out loud. In a number of those situations, I always feel like I’m just the pit stop for the guy to reach his ultimate goal. They tend to find their loving partners after they spend time in my universe.
Sad to say, but there are two types of lovers – the ones you want in your future, and the ones you can only see in your past. This situation always reminds me of “The Way We Were.”
A brief synopsis of the film if you’ve not seen it: Barbra Streisand’s character, Katie, falls in love with Hubbell Gardiner, played by Robert Redford. Hubbell is a WASP who aspires to be a screenwriter; Katie is a politically active Jew, and after the two marry, her activism threatens Hubbell’s reputation in the industry. The two divorce some years later and both move on to other spouses. He marries a simple, Jackie Kennedy-type woman, but it is so evident that, even though Katie was so strong-willed, that is exactly the type of woman he needs.
This marks my point: Most men know they need to be with a partner who is safe, the Jackie Kennedy-type when you are making your moves upward in your gay life. But those men are well aware that you do need those activists who don’t sit back quietly and take the safe route in life, the guys who will challenge you to make the uneasy choices, and who’ll stand right by your side, not two steps behind you.
Some of us are Katie; some of us aren’t. I know that in certain relations, I’m too much of a Katie; it’s inbred in me, and I can’t change that about me. That may cause me to find that I’m the type that guys can only see in their past, because I don’t walk two steps behind the man I get involved with … I walk beside that man, or, *gulp*, in front of him. I’ve never been a shrinking violet. And who truly wants to be involved with the Jackie Kennedy-type of guy? Well, it appears a lot of guys do.
So this is one of the reasons I find myself in that funky mood at different times, when I feel like people just don’t understand me or get me. So it’s these times that I listen to Gilbert O’Sullivan’s song.
Now I said that I listen to two songs during these moods. The other song is sort of my redemption song, what I play in my head – and on my radio – over and over. This song, Gladys Knight and the Pips’ “I’ve Got to Use My Imagination,” is sort of an anthem for me.
This song reminds me that, although I may not be everyone’s dream husband material, I have a hell of a lot of things to offer, and if guys can’t see that and only look at being involved with me as a pit stop to their future ex-husband when boredom sets in, it’s their loss not mine.
There is a verse in the song that trumpets for me:
“Staring down reality
Don't do me no good
'Cause our misunderstanding
Is too well understood
Such a sad, sad season
When a good love dies
Not a day goes by
When I don't realize
I've really got to use my imagination
To think of good reasons
To keep on keepin' on”
Yes, sometimes we all must use our imagination, just to keep on keepin’ on. So, I guess this is something I need to work on changing about myself, allowing men to use me as a pit stop. I’m determined to break this cycle – even if it kills me.
The song, it just puts a pep in my step and I just grab a scarf and get to dancing – by myself, with others; heck, anything I see.
Now I don’t regret any of the “pit stops,” because it has made me the man I am today. I love myself first and foremost, so I know that as long as I have a strong and abiding love for myself, that’s the best I can have … next to God’s love.
So for those many men – the “Hubbells” in my life over the years – who have considered me their pit stop, I thank you. That probably sounds weird, but if not for all of you, the man I ultimately settle down with will know that he was chosen, not settled upon. And he will accept the “Katie” in me for all her glory.
Friday, October 30, 2015
Sometimes an affair to remember is one that should not be forgotten
(*I wrote this blog post last week, but for some reason it was difficult to post. I'm still not quite sure why, but perhaps it will come to me later*)
I’m sure we’ve all been there. You know, doing something and then immediately regretting it. Sometimes you feel guilty or remorseful about an action, and then you inevitably beat yourself up for it over and over.
This is going to sound pretty odd for those people who know me pretty well, but I can’t lump myself into that category. Things I’ve done in the past since coming out, I rarely ever feel guilty, or remorseful, or regret. I’ve felt in a lot of ways that perhaps once I came out, my system was not programmed to have those feelings, you know those, the “I regret that moment” gene.
When it comes to any sort of affection, if I’ve participated, I never feel guilty or regret it. The only emotions of this sort that creep into my being is if the other participant harbors those feelings. I’m not saying that I’ve never felt those pangs of guilt over something, but growing up and spending about two-thirds of my life under the thumb of religion, perhaps I’ve been in a position to compartmentalize those feelings.
I don’t take those feelings away from anyone. People feel what they feel. That’s the human experience, and in a way, I feel some jealousy for those who are able to have those emotions. I rarely envy others, but when people intake those emotions, I wonder if I’m just not equipped for that.
I try never to let someone think I don’t understand when they express the emotions, because in my mind, it makes me think that I’m belittling them or their feelings. Trust me, I am an empathetic soul and would never let anyone think their feelings aren’t genuine. It’s just hard to understand why they beat themselves up over it.
I guess in the back of my mind, I’ve not let people know that I don’t regret or feel guilt over any sort of sexual indiscretion or displays of affection, perhaps stolen kisses … I thought others might think I’m a sociopath or something.
Don’t worry, I’m not a sociopath. I just spent almost three decades forced to keep any displays of affection – in the Biblical sense – out of sight, and it gets very overly-cautious. I had to spend all those years celibate for the religion, and I tell you, once you get the chance to break out and set yourself free, you learn pretty quickly that the emotion of guilt and regret over those indiscretions are overrated.
It’s so funny how I’ve learned as a gay man to separate guilt. Trust me – I do feel guilt, but not in relation to any sort of indiscretions where emotions are involved. You learn after living years not in a position to express joy in many acts, having to save yourself exclusively for one person, you definitely would take full advantage of being able to express yourself sexually.
Once I claimed my sexual preference and busted out of that closet, there was no stopping me. And it was a difficult process, leaving my religion behind (but remaining religious) and it took some time to put things in check for myself.
My therapist (yes, I do consult one from time to time) said something pretty funny to me – not funny hah hah, funny peculiar. He said that I do have feelings of guilt and regret, and I have those feelings because I don’t have feelings of guilt and regret. In a nutshell, I feel guilty because I don’t feel guilty over any sort of indiscretion; and coming from a world of religion, that’s just not possible. And yes, he could very well be correct.
When I do run into someone who I’ve had any sort of intimate experience with in the past, I never feel bad or guilty; I’m actually pleased to see them. I never feel awkwardness because we have shared something, in my book, ultimately special. So when I run into the person(s) and see that they may feel awkward or uncomfortable, I truly wish they wouldn’t feel that way because I, myself, don’t feel that way.
Growing up in the church, and having to hide away all those feelings and emotions, it gives a person a sort of rejuvenation when you no longer have to do so.
I guess the moral of this particular blog, to put it in its simplest form, is that no matter what happens with a person, it is okay to feel a sense of contentment and look on an indiscretion fondly. It was a learning experience about oneself, and there is no regret about taking heart in the knowledge that, for a moment in time, you took a chance on bringing satisfaction to your life in some way, shape or form.
Take advantage of these moments, people. Life, as we all know, is way too short and as long as we always try our best to enter the experience with both eyes wide open, we have no reason to feel guilt or pressure to regret.
So smile when you run into that person with whom you’ve shared a moment in time. Because as long as you’ve taken a little positive away with you from the experience, it’ll be alright.
I’m sure we’ve all been there. You know, doing something and then immediately regretting it. Sometimes you feel guilty or remorseful about an action, and then you inevitably beat yourself up for it over and over.
This is going to sound pretty odd for those people who know me pretty well, but I can’t lump myself into that category. Things I’ve done in the past since coming out, I rarely ever feel guilty, or remorseful, or regret. I’ve felt in a lot of ways that perhaps once I came out, my system was not programmed to have those feelings, you know those, the “I regret that moment” gene.
When it comes to any sort of affection, if I’ve participated, I never feel guilty or regret it. The only emotions of this sort that creep into my being is if the other participant harbors those feelings. I’m not saying that I’ve never felt those pangs of guilt over something, but growing up and spending about two-thirds of my life under the thumb of religion, perhaps I’ve been in a position to compartmentalize those feelings.
I don’t take those feelings away from anyone. People feel what they feel. That’s the human experience, and in a way, I feel some jealousy for those who are able to have those emotions. I rarely envy others, but when people intake those emotions, I wonder if I’m just not equipped for that.
I try never to let someone think I don’t understand when they express the emotions, because in my mind, it makes me think that I’m belittling them or their feelings. Trust me, I am an empathetic soul and would never let anyone think their feelings aren’t genuine. It’s just hard to understand why they beat themselves up over it.
I guess in the back of my mind, I’ve not let people know that I don’t regret or feel guilt over any sort of sexual indiscretion or displays of affection, perhaps stolen kisses … I thought others might think I’m a sociopath or something.
Don’t worry, I’m not a sociopath. I just spent almost three decades forced to keep any displays of affection – in the Biblical sense – out of sight, and it gets very overly-cautious. I had to spend all those years celibate for the religion, and I tell you, once you get the chance to break out and set yourself free, you learn pretty quickly that the emotion of guilt and regret over those indiscretions are overrated.
It’s so funny how I’ve learned as a gay man to separate guilt. Trust me – I do feel guilt, but not in relation to any sort of indiscretions where emotions are involved. You learn after living years not in a position to express joy in many acts, having to save yourself exclusively for one person, you definitely would take full advantage of being able to express yourself sexually.
Once I claimed my sexual preference and busted out of that closet, there was no stopping me. And it was a difficult process, leaving my religion behind (but remaining religious) and it took some time to put things in check for myself.
My therapist (yes, I do consult one from time to time) said something pretty funny to me – not funny hah hah, funny peculiar. He said that I do have feelings of guilt and regret, and I have those feelings because I don’t have feelings of guilt and regret. In a nutshell, I feel guilty because I don’t feel guilty over any sort of indiscretion; and coming from a world of religion, that’s just not possible. And yes, he could very well be correct.
When I do run into someone who I’ve had any sort of intimate experience with in the past, I never feel bad or guilty; I’m actually pleased to see them. I never feel awkwardness because we have shared something, in my book, ultimately special. So when I run into the person(s) and see that they may feel awkward or uncomfortable, I truly wish they wouldn’t feel that way because I, myself, don’t feel that way.
Growing up in the church, and having to hide away all those feelings and emotions, it gives a person a sort of rejuvenation when you no longer have to do so.
I guess the moral of this particular blog, to put it in its simplest form, is that no matter what happens with a person, it is okay to feel a sense of contentment and look on an indiscretion fondly. It was a learning experience about oneself, and there is no regret about taking heart in the knowledge that, for a moment in time, you took a chance on bringing satisfaction to your life in some way, shape or form.
Take advantage of these moments, people. Life, as we all know, is way too short and as long as we always try our best to enter the experience with both eyes wide open, we have no reason to feel guilt or pressure to regret.
So smile when you run into that person with whom you’ve shared a moment in time. Because as long as you’ve taken a little positive away with you from the experience, it’ll be alright.
Sunday, October 4, 2015
Hi my name's Eric, and I'm addicted to emotionally unavailable bisexual men
I consider myself a fairly intelligent homosexual man. But I suppose any amount of intelligence can fly right out of the window when an attractive man gives you the time of day.
I’m single – painfully so, attractive (in my own opinion), fun-loving, with a big heart and infectious laugh. I take care of myself, eat right, enjoy the company of others and am fiercely loyal. Some look at me and my actions at times and consider me a Pollyanna. True, I can be too trusting and see the world through rose-colored glasses.
Okay, this is beginning to sound like a personals ad. But I digress…
I do think of myself as intelligent. So it boggles my mind that I continually find myself in the situation that I lap into on occasion. And I wish there were a 12-step program for my compulsion. My compulsion, you ask?
I’m addicted to bisexual men, especially the emotionally unavailable ones.
I’m as amazed as anyone that I find myself in that situation. I mean, my usual type of man that I find myself attracted to have been men in their mid-40s to early 50s, attractive, muscular, with salt-and-pepper hair. The professional gay man, established with a strong sense of who he is and what he wants to do. Those are the men I find most attractive.
So why, or why do I always find myself in the throes of romantic entanglements with bisexual men who just want to use my heart as a middle ground between loving themselves too much and finding the next woman who they ultimately will leave me behind for because the moral society is much easier for them as a man with a woman on his arm? This is the question I ask myself in the mirror; I’m just waiting for the mirror to answer me back.
I know all too well that there is a definite allure for a gay man to want straight men. That’s a given. But I’m not talking about straight men. I’m speaking of the men who are at the crossroads between the land of straight-hood and being a fabulous gay man. They don’t want to make that leap, so they linger in the middle swampland and just stay.
There most definitely needs to be a 12-step rehabilitation program for gay men like myself, who just can’t help themselves. Bisexual men are like Reese’s peanut butter cups for me – I am addicted to the sheer joy of the taste, and although due to health reasons I cannot enjoy them anymore, when I pass one I just can’t resist. My mouth waters, my eyes twitch, my heart races, my blood boils a bit, and my hands get sweaty. After all, no one can eat just one.
My last most-recent encounter with a bisexual man, who I’d sworn off because it’s just a merry-go-round of heartbreak each time he enters my universe, did not turn out like I’d thought it would. He’s still the same person who I was addicted to before. And I’m glad he is, because it makes it easier to move on and leave him behind.
He did teach me one thing, though. He taught me that he, along with so many other bisexual men, are unattainable and unable to commit anything to me because there will always be another woman in the wings.
It’s hard enough for gay men to have to continually worry that they may lose their boyfriends/partners/lovers to another gay man. But when you add in the prospect and fear that you could lose him to another woman as well! Well, that’s just too much to take at times.
So if there is a support group or rehabilitation program out there, send me the phone number; I need it. And friends, if you see that I’m slipping into falling off the wagon, I give you permission to scurry me away from the “drug” and lecture me endlessly.
I promise I will thank you!
(*Editor’s note: To my readers and followers, this will begin a new schedule for my blog. Starting today, my blog will post bi-weekly on Sundays. So enjoy!)
I’m single – painfully so, attractive (in my own opinion), fun-loving, with a big heart and infectious laugh. I take care of myself, eat right, enjoy the company of others and am fiercely loyal. Some look at me and my actions at times and consider me a Pollyanna. True, I can be too trusting and see the world through rose-colored glasses.
Okay, this is beginning to sound like a personals ad. But I digress…
I do think of myself as intelligent. So it boggles my mind that I continually find myself in the situation that I lap into on occasion. And I wish there were a 12-step program for my compulsion. My compulsion, you ask?
I’m addicted to bisexual men, especially the emotionally unavailable ones.
I’m as amazed as anyone that I find myself in that situation. I mean, my usual type of man that I find myself attracted to have been men in their mid-40s to early 50s, attractive, muscular, with salt-and-pepper hair. The professional gay man, established with a strong sense of who he is and what he wants to do. Those are the men I find most attractive.
So why, or why do I always find myself in the throes of romantic entanglements with bisexual men who just want to use my heart as a middle ground between loving themselves too much and finding the next woman who they ultimately will leave me behind for because the moral society is much easier for them as a man with a woman on his arm? This is the question I ask myself in the mirror; I’m just waiting for the mirror to answer me back.
I know all too well that there is a definite allure for a gay man to want straight men. That’s a given. But I’m not talking about straight men. I’m speaking of the men who are at the crossroads between the land of straight-hood and being a fabulous gay man. They don’t want to make that leap, so they linger in the middle swampland and just stay.
There most definitely needs to be a 12-step rehabilitation program for gay men like myself, who just can’t help themselves. Bisexual men are like Reese’s peanut butter cups for me – I am addicted to the sheer joy of the taste, and although due to health reasons I cannot enjoy them anymore, when I pass one I just can’t resist. My mouth waters, my eyes twitch, my heart races, my blood boils a bit, and my hands get sweaty. After all, no one can eat just one.
My last most-recent encounter with a bisexual man, who I’d sworn off because it’s just a merry-go-round of heartbreak each time he enters my universe, did not turn out like I’d thought it would. He’s still the same person who I was addicted to before. And I’m glad he is, because it makes it easier to move on and leave him behind.
He did teach me one thing, though. He taught me that he, along with so many other bisexual men, are unattainable and unable to commit anything to me because there will always be another woman in the wings.
It’s hard enough for gay men to have to continually worry that they may lose their boyfriends/partners/lovers to another gay man. But when you add in the prospect and fear that you could lose him to another woman as well! Well, that’s just too much to take at times.
So if there is a support group or rehabilitation program out there, send me the phone number; I need it. And friends, if you see that I’m slipping into falling off the wagon, I give you permission to scurry me away from the “drug” and lecture me endlessly.
I promise I will thank you!
(*Editor’s note: To my readers and followers, this will begin a new schedule for my blog. Starting today, my blog will post bi-weekly on Sundays. So enjoy!)
Monday, August 17, 2015
So ... how far would you go in an effort to right some wrongs done to you?
Hello folks!
The following item is a blog post I wrote two weeks ago, but I had to do some soul searching to come to the conclusion if I truly wanted to go through with my plans. See, if I do this (what my blog talks about), I could be destroying a person's life and imploding a relationship.
True, all the parties involved need a rude awakening. And I don't really care about any of them any longer.
But I just need to be certain that I am okay with what I need to do, and I've been agonizing about all of the repercussions.
So I put it out there ... what would you do?
Read on:
Once a year, just like a birthday, Miss Bernadine decides to clear out her treasure chest and find that one item that she feels that the world just needs to know, and she spills the “T”.
That time every year is fast approaching, that day is this Friday. I’ve never really got any clarity on whether Miss Bernadine wants to morph into Miss Karma for that day, or if she’s just damn tired of seeing others get the upper hand. I guess it’s her way of making sure that people don’t trample on her feelings.
True, I’m a sensitive soul, and things do hurt me from time to time. A lot of things affect us all. For me, a couple of things that get to me would definitely be when people only see the color of a person’s skin and refuse to look past that. My motto has always been “Whatever anyone thinks about me is none of my business.” But there are times that I do actually care, because when people judge others simply by their race, it’s downright tragic.
But I digress.
This Friday (actually this week), something tremendous and difficult is happening in my personal life. I really can’t go into details at this time, but it has been the most stressful thing I think I’ve had to deal with in my life thus far.
But as this pivotal milestone has been uppermost in my mind and just doing whatever I can to get over this particular hump and not crush people in my path, it has occurred to me that I may have been working overtime to not hurt a person because I didn’t want bad karma coming my way. And I didn’t need any of that in my life.
But I think I got that incorrect in my mind, because keeping this secret so others wouldn’t get hurt in the process, I’ve hurt myself by keeping it. There are times when people have referred to me as “Charlotte”, the “Sex in the City” Park Avenue Pollyanna who just thinks that “Gee, if you wish hard enough, and do the right things always, you’ll be blessed with a good man, a great job, good karma and only the best in this life.”
It was a good thing that I had my alter – Miss Bernadine – to balance out that way of thinking. Because I did believe my “Charlotte” side … but it’s seeming like I can’t follow that philosophy, at least not anymore.
And this secret I’ve been holding on to, to spare feelings, well it’s just not worth it any longer. So at the end of this week, I am not only dealing with a stressful milestone, a turning point, in my life, but I’m also going to let the secret out. And I am going to have to tell the person. In all reality, I don’t believe he deserves to be spared the truth, because maybe the truth is no better than the lies.
I was dating someone last year, and I tried hard to get past a few things that he did and not hold the past against him. Well, I may have been the best thing he ever had in his life, but that just wasn’t enough to keep me around. Before we ended things, he was with another man. Oddly enough, I didn’t really care that he was with another man, because as the saying goes, “I can do bad all by myself.”
What hurt was that the person he stepped out on me with was a friend of mine, a married friend of mine. I was so pissed at this friend that I just wanted to tell his husband. But my “friend” begged me to keep it secret and not destroy his marriage, and the Charlotte in me gave in and kept his secret. Well Miss Bernadine just no longer agrees to do so.
I’ve been hurt a lot in the past two years, but I’ve kept it all inside and took it all, no matter the cost. It’s not good for a person to do that, just because everyone expects it from you.
It’s time that others had to answer for their actions. So I’m getting it out in the open and telling the husband. I mean, why should I care what happens to the happy couple? And maybe a little piece of me wants to repay the guy who I did so much for and put myself out on a limb, more times than I want to recount. I let him in my little world, and he let me down in so many ways.
This week, I really need to reclaim that spark that made Miss Bernadine shine. I really need to once again be on the inside what I’ve been trying very hard to show on the outside.
I’m taking back my life – personally, professionally and spiritually – with no Rupologies! I mean, it’s true – if you can’t love yourself, how in the hell are you going to love anyone else? RuPaul is a role model of this queen (thus her words ring true in my ears), and I need to find my way back to fabulousness – something that RuPaul truly believes in doing.
No matter what.
So I ask ... what would you do if you were Miss Bernadine?
Wednesday, July 29, 2015
Asbury Park Bear Weekend, Aug. 14-16, is an event not to be missed
Get ready, people!
The weekend of August 14-16, there won’t be any lions, there won’t be any tigers … but there sure as hell will be a lot of bears!
During that weekend in the city, we will be celebrating the 2nd Asbury Park Bear Weekend. Last year’s weekend was a major success, and as it seems to be shaping up, this year’s activities will bring a lot of fun to Asbury Park.
This is just one of the many ways that we as a community come together, enjoy each other’s company, work hard to support a worthy cause, and have a freakin’ blast being a part of something bigger than ourselves. And boy, do we in the LGBTQ community know how to party!!
The festivities begin Thursday with a pre-party at Georgies Bar, from 9 p.m. to 2 a.m. And that’s just the beginning.
On Friday, registration for the weekend will begin at the Hotel Tides Restaurant & Spa at 4 p.m. A meet-and-greet will be held at the hotel from 6 to 8:30 p.m., and you can partake in some “Bear Bingo” and enjoy some light fare. Starting at 9 p.m. comedian Peter Bisuito presents, "My Big Funny Peter" at Paradise. There will be drink specials all night for package holders, and a $15 cover for non-package holders. Then from 10 p.m. to 2 a.m. get into the groove with “Bears in Boxers” while DJ Jonny Mack spins at Paradise.
Below is a compilation of the events for Saturday:
9 to 11 am.: "Grrr Mornin" Breakfast at Paradise Sundeck*
9 to 10 a.m.: "Yoga for Bears" Poolside at The Hotel Tides*
11 a.m.: Recovery Meeting
11 a.m. to 5 p.m.: "Bears on the Beach" 5th Avenue Beach Party
Beach Badge included for all package holders*
6 to 8 p.m.: "Cigar Party Beer Bust" at Georgies
Includes: 1 Cigar and unlimited Miller Lite Draft for package holders*. Complimentary buffet and hosted by Mr. NJ Leather 2015.
8 to 10 p.m.: "BearLesque" followed by "Beareoke" with DJ Ted D'bierre at Georgies
*$5 Cover for non-package holders*
10 p.m. to 2 a.m.: "The Woof Ball" featuring DJ Stephan Durkin at Paradise
*Includes: Free Admission to Paradise and discounted drinks for package holders*
Below is a compilation of events for Sunday:
9 to 10 a.m.: "Yoga for Bears," held poolside at The Hotel Tides*
Noon to 5 p.m.: "Bear Watch" Pool Party at the Hotel Tides, with a special appearance by BearDonna.
*Includes: Admission to the pool, complimentary food and bobbing for apples for package holders*
Drink Specials for package holders. $25 for non-package holders
5:30 p.m.: Tea Dance at Paradise*
* Included for Package Holders
As you can tell, the weekend will be full of lots of fun, frolics and fantastic bears. It’s not to be missed.
For more information, you can connect to the Facebook page for the 2nd Asbury Park Bear Weekend by clicking this link. You can also go directly to the website at http://asburyparkbearweekend.com
A portion of the proceeds will be donated to Project R.E.A.L. of Asbury Park.
This weekend is presented by Hotel Tides, DragonsLair Productions and Asbury Park Bear Weekend, LLC. Some sponsors are Conover Agency, Georgies Bar, Miller Lite, Ketel One Vodka, Yestercades, Paradise, and BearGuide.net.
Get in gear, because there will be Muscle Bears on the Beach, Polar Bears in the pool, Cubs on Cookman Avenue, Otters from out of town, Chasers, admirers, our friends and even the occasional Goldilocks.
(P.S. – And Goldilocks … that will most likely be yours truly – you’re quite welcome!!)
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