I’m a queer, a fag, a faggot, a fairy, a fudge packer, cocksucker, homosexual, pansy, sissy boy, sodomite light in the loafers destined to hell (in the minds of some) lover of men.
So many people today eschew labels. “I don’t want to be boxed into something!” “I want to be accepted by society at large”.
Because while I am an educated man, a middle aged man, with a career, with love, generosity and creativity in my heart, soul, life and actions, I am also gay.
I am but the sum of all my parts….each facet contributing to the gem that I am.
I make no apologies for any of it to anyone anymore.
It’s funny to write that, because I’ve been an out gay man for many years. You’d think that would already be my credo, my mission statement, my personal manifesto. But somewhere along the way I forgot some of that sense of self.
It’s good to evolve, it’s essential to the human spirit to aspire and those are good things.
Being gay is a central part of who and what I am. I’m not ashamed of that. I embrace it.
Today I was looking at 1970’s Gay Americana. Raw photos from early in the gay movement of men, leathermen, sissy boys, lipstick lesbians and bull dykes who made this attitude part of their life at a time when it meant public ridicule, private suffering, and at times bodily injury or even death.
I can’t spit on the shadow of their legacy with indifference, apathy or shallow hearts desires.
I am gay, and proud of it.
The Village People: "YMCA"