can you see me?

our psyches crave transparency and authenticity.

years ago, i ran across a chart that illustrated the parts of our Self. (the Johari Window, i’ve since learned.)

via http://www.chimaeraconsulting.com/johari.htm

  • Self others know (public self)
  • Self we know but hide from others (private/hidden self)
  • Self we don’t know (unknown self)
  • Self we can’t see but others can (blind/unconscious self)

i remember back then, probably 15 years ago when i was still very deeply in denial about and shameful of my True Self, it was explained to me that i should increase the size of the window others know (my public self) by hiding less about myself and bringing my own self to greater awareness.

i’ll have to admit: that concept was pretty much all lost on me. in fact, i remember thinking “you’re kidding me, right?!” yet deep down, i knew exactly what it meant.

even years later, on the eve of my Coming Out, a best friend urged me, “just tell everyone. tell everyone what you are dealing with. it will be ok.” and even then, i was like “NO WAY.”

as i look back on my adult life, the proportion of my Hidden Self seemed to increase as i got older. the more eager i became to ignore my “blind spots” and the more reluctant i  became to exploring my Unconscious Self—and people can attest how very reluctant i was—the more imposing my Hidden Self became instead of its discovery and exposure bringing greater awareness to my True (Whole) Self.

almost four decades of this opacity had left my Self extremely lopsided. fear of the exposure of my Hidden Self thwarted any exploration into my unconscious self whatsoever.

and talk about blind spots! i turned my back on others like me and even voted as a part of the “Christian right” for years, “fighting” for values i now consider hollow, hateful, and unauthentic. today (ok, back on november 9 when i wrote this draft), a friend and i were discussing Ricky Martin’s Oprah interview and how he just seemed so happy and free. later, i was able to watch the interview and see his eyes, slightly teary but filled with an authentic joy as he said:

“i cried…because i felt free. i felt liberated. i felt that i could say that i love myself completely.”

Like him and many of us who have come out, we did it to save our lives. we did it for the benefit of those closest to us so they can finally love and accept us—or as many of us discovered, remind us they’ve loved us all along and will continue doing so. we did it to end the hypocrisy of telling our children they are “fearfully and wonderfully made” yet not believing it about ourselves.

and many of us did it in a move toward discovering that Hidden Self, which is frightening. well, it was to me. i was always scared of it. i had always felt isolated and alone, a state i perceived had something to do with my secret Hidden and Blind Selves.

i remember all those many years spent in church, so many of those people knowing “what” i was before i did and secretly hoping—daring to believ, even, that they didn’t. (and to their great credit as Christ-followers, they loved—and continue to love—me anyway.)

i remember vividly a recurring dream i had about a church event where all the men met in one room and the women in another (which we did from time to time). in the room with the men, everyone was dressed in black. but there i was: dressed in red, nothing like any of them, standing out, feeling awkward, isolated and alone.

truth is: i’ve  felt like that a lot of my life.

yet i shoved it down, deep down, making it a part of the Hidden Self i hoped no one would ever see. But that stuff can’t hide forever. and i’m not just talking about “flamboyant expressions,” the desires, or the parts God-given parts of me that were visible—the talents and interests that i had that lay outside the societally-accepted male traits.

i’m talking about the not-God/Universe given shame i—and many others like me—stuffed down inside that festered for decades (!) and produced little else but pain. eventually that hurt and ache and even bitterness will appear—you can bet on that. and the result is not often pretty. it often comes out in ways that hurt one’s self, hurts others, and damages relationships.

when i came out, it was very painful—to me and the people i loved most. i lost 95% of my support structure. (i certainly hope that everyone who does this has a Julie, a Bobby, a Kenny, two loving mothers, and strong sons to stand by their side…). i was still dressed in red but it was a thong and that ain’t pretty.

i was largely alone.

suddenly my hidden self was out in the open for everyone to see. (rather, i had been standing behind a see-through shower curtain all along thinking no one really could see me through it.) and then, over time, i couldn’t believe i’d waited so long to finally expose it! sure, some people at work treated me differently (tho, again, the news wasn’t so much a revelation as it was a confirmation). some people looked at me with sadness in their eyes, arousing that newly displaced but still lingering shame.

but i quickly began to care less: i was finally living an authentic life. i no longer had to hide, lie, pretend, or deny. i get to be all i want to be, all that i am, all that i am intended to be. and i can delve into the parts of my Self that i don’t know with much less fear than ever before…and maybe spend some time facing those blind spots, too.

i call the transformation and the very-much-work-in-progress “coming out Todd.” reducing the size of my Hidden Self has allowed me to explore my Unknown Self in a way that would not have been possible and is allowing me to finally grow beyond the stunted person i had become. in fact, i’m realizing that i have a craving to be authentic. to hide less. to discover more about me.

and to never wear a red thong again.

ever.

labels. really?

i don’t guess i’m all that surprised. we gays love our labels.

yes, that’s a stereotype! lots of straights like ‘em too—women and men—whether it’s clothes, rims, glasses, toilet paper, chain saws, you name it: we like labels!

anyway, tonight i participated in a twitter conversation about labels. specifically: labeling what kind of man and how masculine you are based on your sexual position/role. *augh* really? it’s 2011 and we’re still behaving like this?! that’s as ludicrous as the discussions about whether a stay-at-home mom is a better mother than a working mom or the one that occurs within the black community about skin color making someone a more desirable person. (though it’s still debated in circles of many colors,  we’re all beautiful, no matter our skin’s hue and any mom—whether she works outside the home or not—can be an excellent, loving, effective mother. i know several!)

that kind of thinking just hits me wrong. almost as much as describing gays by which “list” they’re on, a notion no-doubt coined by someone who perceives himself to be on the “A-list” [aka “douchebag”] or a person with a poor self-image, whose envy has gotten the best of himself.

and speaking of the notion of an “A-list”—a concept not original to the gays as both the hets and the homos have been keeping lists since, well, Adam, Eve, and, well, Steve—let’s talk about that ridiculous show “the A-list.” no wonder society perceives us they way they do with ill-conceived garbage like this, no doubt the brainchild of some snarky gay hoping to profit by exploiting the negative stereotypes of this particular group of people. that show represents no one i know in real life, only the stereotypes i rue and occasionally mock.

yes: i laugh at these men but not in a good way.  i can empathize with some of their situations but some of their behaviors leave me shaking my head. and trust me: I know many vapid, vacuous people; gays do not have the market cornered on these characteristics.

so back to labeling. yes, some of us are eccentric. many of us dress better than many of our hetero compadres (although this metrosexual thing is really catching on thank goodness). a lot of us express ourselves creatively and talk with our hands and love shoes and secretly love/hate/want to be Martha Stewart and love musicals and The Oscars and sports and believe in the importance of family and are productive members of society and make great neighbors and think of others generously by giving money and time to worthy causes and…

….wait…

i think i just made my point.

but in case i didn’t, let me conclude, in my usual “this is not really a conclusion, i’m still going” mode.

first: masculinity is not defined by sexual position. it is made up of many characteristics, most of which extend far outside the bedroom. [duh. but apparently it needs to be said. again.]

second: stop it with the stereotypes. society loves them and we gays sure love to label people (oops) but really—is it anyone’s business?! yes, i am hypersensitive to labels. i still remember when “Three’s Company” was on TV, becoming one of primetime TV’s earlier attempt to parody homosexuals. (“Soap” preceded it but came on after your local news; i was allowed to watch neither.) The very next day, kids started asking me if i was gay. That was fifth grade. and so it began…

Ok so what. Yeah. i knew then i was gay. (i actually knew much earlier.) But what i didn’t realize then, i finally realize today: i’m also creative. and smart(ish). And sometimes funny. And i love to talk and share and laugh and a million other things that many other humans like to do. my identity as a gay male is just one piece of who i am—not my entire identity. yes, stereotypes are fun to laugh at (although wow Modern Family’s Sofia Vergara and Jessey Tyler Ferguson push them so far that they’re more uncomfortable than funny.) but hey: it’s good for a laugh, right?

at the end of the day, we are not the sum of our labels. we’re all just equal human beings with basically the same DNA, except the precious few deviations that give us our own unique identities, personalities, and traits.

it’s just that some of us have better shoes.

happy to be me.

there are so many reasons i love twitter, for how it expands the circle of friends and experiences i can learn from. here’s another reason why.

about a year ago i was in a conversation with a former tweep (@TweetwithStone) about several things. i no longer remember what we were talking about. anyway, the conversation must’ve centered on me discussing the toxic nature of my previous relationship and the  nature of trying to “change” people from gay to straight.

anyway, this post has been sitting in my draft folder, just waiting to be shared. hopefully it will be of help to someone who needs it.

from Tuesday 23rd February 2010

if you’re gay, you’re gay. and there will be liars and bad ppl and ppl who will hurt you on EITHER side.

and all men are NOT bad / liars / evil. we’re not all bad.

and the ex-gay ministries, etc.: even the APA says that’s bad to try and make ppl change….*and* talk about FULL OF LIARS AND BULLSHIT…he thinks the gay world is bad–that world is worse. TRUST ME.

And FYI: the secret to being ex-gay is not a miracle. not a cure. it is simply people who are WILLING to change their mindset and live with it and WILLFULLY live a str8 life, deny/hide/bury their desires, perhaps learn to appreciate new desires…but my belief is that they’re never really no longer gay.

stone provided some extra reinforcement to what i already believed. see, i myself could not change. i just couldn’t. the miracle i prayed for (“cure me from my gayness” or is it “gayoisity”) never happened. or, as a former best friend pointed out: maybe i didn’t really want the miracle in the first place.

he was right.

the miracle i was given, in spite of what i thought i wanted, was this:

i am finally happy with myself.

and i actually LIKE myself. a lot.

no, i’m not saying i’m perfect. i’m saying i no longer dislike myself for this particular part of me that never was what society and religion tried to make me think i should’ve been.

i do believe in the possibilities of miracles and significant changes that defy reasonable explanation. for me, tho, i’m just not convinced there’s ever true conversion from gay to straight. i believe it can be, as my tweep pointed out, willful (reminds me of someone who used to blog) and determined.

but for me, no longer denying my true self not only changed my life. it saved it.

i have courage

in the interest of variety, today’s blog is a picture blog. i wrote it on the back of an envelope as i read chapter 2 of “the four agreements” (by don Miguel Ruiz @donMiguelRuizSr) titled “domestication and the dream of the planet.”

Incidentally, this is the front of the envelope, almost as much a treasure as the Christmas card it contained: