Sometimes I wonder? Do I look gay? I know this idea really shouldn’t be something that you ponder about, but there are times it enters your mind. I really never really thought about it until a couple of chance encounters that occurred recently.
One, I recently went to Ft. Worth with my partner, Dr. Ashden. Dr. Ashden had a friend coming into town, as well as, his friend’s brother and partner. We live in San Antonio, and the drive to Ft. Worth is about four hours away. Dr. Ashden is 25 years older than I am. So, he needed help with the drive. So, I took off some time from work and made the journey northward. Now the question “Do I look gay?” was the furthest from my mind. Dr. Ashden’s friend made hotel reservations for us at an upscale Ft. Worth hotel, the Worthington. A nice hotel right in the middle of a beautiful and active downtown. Well, here we go with the question at hand. We arrived at the hotel, and we got to the check-in area. I should probably preface this situation with the idea of how Dr. Ashden and I look. I am six feet tall, broad shoulder, salt and pepper hair, and I prefer to dress in a more “Preppy” style. Dr. Ashden is 6’4” and he dresses in a way he prefers to call “Flamboyant.” I would refer to his style as Southwest artistic, yet he does wear some very expensive Starcke red glasses. At check-in we are greeted by a very young and handsome tall man. I provided my credit card for the services, and then he asked the question, “Do the both of you need a King bed or double beds?” Why I never anticipated the question before hand was beyond me. You see, Dr. Ashden and I live in separate homes. So, the question really amplified the idea “Do I look gay to you?” I felt a little awkward, Dr. Ashden was right at my back, and this nice young man in front me, and a big spot light overhead of me. It felt like everyone in the lobby turned around to look at me. Since the rodeo was in town the whole lobby was filled with country folk. What probably seemed like eternity to me, was really just a few seconds. I answered the young man, “We need a King bed.” Well, there you have it. “Yes, I am gay!” I thought about my answer as the bellman took our bags to the room. I thought about, “I wonder do I look gay?” I mean, I do not care if I do, I just wondered what type of impression I made on people? The other chance encounter occurred last weekend in Houston. Yet again at a hotel, and yet again, I didn’t even think about the idea “Do I look gay.” Dr. Ashden and I went to Houston to see the “Art and Steel” exhibit at the Houston Fine Arts Museum. The exhibit contained beautiful examples of automobiles whose designs were inspired by the Art Deco period. I made arrangements to stay at the Hotel Granduca. Again, I found myself in the same situation at check-in. However, it went a little more differently this time. I went to the check-in area, I handed my credit card to yet a very nice looking tall blonde young man, and I wasn’t even aware of the idea, “Do I look gay?” Dr. Ashden was by my side. I checked in, and the receptionist was kind and jovial. He handed me my key to the room. The bellman took us up to a very nice Junior Suite room (The receptionist had told me, I am upgrading your room for free). We opened the door to the suite. There was a beautiful kitchen and television area decorated in hues of browns and golds. The bellman opened the bedroom door, and there was a gigantic king bed. I thought to myself, “I wonder why the receptionist did not ask Dr. Ashden and I for double beds?” I mean if we were two heterosexual guys, the idea that two heterosexual guys were going to share a king size bed would be an issue. I know my two brothers would never sleep in any size bed in a hotel room with any other their male friends. I mean never! Yet, the receptionist had to make a judgment call when he saw Dr. Ashden and me together. He must have thought, “They are gay!” Why else would he upgrade us to a room with a king size bed? Now, let me end this thought “Do I look gay?” with the statement, I really do not care. I am not going to change the way I dress or look. You have to remember Dr. Ashden and I have over 70 years of heterosexual marriage between us. So, there are some situations that linger within us. When I checked into a hotel with my wife, I never even thought of the idea that the bed would be a king. However, since I am fairly new to gay life, the question comes to my mind a little more often, “Do I look gay?” And, if I do look gay, so be it. It’s an honor to be the person who you are.
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Another sleepless night occurs. I am thinking at least it’s Friday. I will get through this day begrudgingly. I got a list of chores to do, as well as, a job to do. It’s 5 o’clock but that’s AM not PM. I haven’t written anything lately. The holidays came and went. January was a month for new resolutions, that didn’t occur. February began with sickness, first with myself, then with my sister, who is a dear friend to me. Now, the first week of sleepless nights.
Something feels different. I am not complaining about the sleeplessness because there seems to be this burst of energy occurring within me. Something is different, I am different. I have been looking back in the past. There were times where I beat myself up for allowing myself to meet a man. I had an organized rigid routinized life with my wife. We rarely argued. Things got done. I look back now, and I see that I didn’t even realize my unhappiness. Well, I did, but a doctor prescribed an anti-depressant. Pop a pill, and you will be fine, but I wasn’t fine. There were times in the past where I would say to myself, “If you didn’t go to the museum that day, none of this trouble would have occurred, but it did. I met someone, no, I met the one. Two people attending a lecture, then meeting by all cliché things, a statue of Aphrodite. Little did we know that two people, no, two men, with 74 years of heterosexual marriages between them, would fall in love. An affair began over time, not immediately, but it began. I was the reluctant one. I did not want to drop my guard down, but I did. An affair is wrong by all accounts, but what happens when you fall in love? I tell you it’s not rational. I can tell you, I guess if you read any of my previous posts, a lot of hurt was created. I suffered an enormous amount of burning, deservingly so in most cases, but not all. My luck of luck, the man I fell in love with, just happened to be intertwined within my family’s past, and my family’s past is deeply intertwined with his family’s past. I can tell you, when his kids realized that dad was having a homosexual relationship with a guy his kid’s ages, well, it didn’t go well, but at the same time they still have never directly confronted him, even until this day. His story wasn’t my story. I was outed, forced outed, and divorced all at once. This situation probably scares the hell out of many men, but now, looking back it was a blessing. I will turn 52 next month, and I have come to realize that the most important commodity that I have, is time. I have seen a little more of gay life. There isn’t any single one way to be gay. Gay is just a term. How could one term describe the total complexity of being human? Some people are short, some are tall, some dark skinned, some light skin, some fat, some skinny, oh and the list goes on and on. I guess when you stand up to your fear, you begin to conquer it. Three years have gone by, and I am conquering it. My ex-wife is still having her beautiful life, designing buildings, riding horses, and enjoying a new boyfriend. And me? Well, I always believed that men couldn’t fall in love with one another, and I see how wrong I was. Three years, and I am still with my love. It is a little unconventional. We live in separate houses, somehow I am good with this situation, and I realized I couldn’t have done anything differently. Everything that has occurred, was supposed to occur. Good luck, bad luck? Who knows? A new day is occurring and I get to be me, I am not wearing any mask. I walk out the door with a strong sense of pride. |
Christian Cantu
Coming Out Late Archives
December 2019
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