World AIDS Day (a day late)
Dec. 2nd, 2004 06:52 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
greatbearWell, I tried to do this last night, but LJ was being assified and saying my journal was read-only after several attempts prior of it just eating the post time and again. I could comment in other journals, but mine would not cooperate so I put the issue (and myself) to bed. Unfortunately, I fumbled my copy-and-paste routine this morning and I now need to recreate my entry from scratch. Grrr.
___________________
AIDS had a profound effect on me in a non-medical yet still insidious and ugly way. It set the stage for the longest and heaviest bout of self-hatred in me.
AIDS, then known as GRID, made headlines at a youthful and confusing time in my life. Before the news hit I had been coming to grips with the notion that my fascination with men, muscles, body fur, strength and such over the years was more than simply an aspiration to those results when at the gym. No, it became more and more clear that ol' awkward teenage Phil just might be gay himself. You see, I actually did lead a somewhat sheltered and isolated life, my view of the world was seem through television, radio and newspapers when it came to news and national/world events.
My first exposure to the notion of homosexuality was having the word thrown at me by other kids at school. It seems that I matured physically well ahead of most of the other 'children' in school and as a result I was taunted and physically tested contantly. The fu-manchu mustache that seemed to appear overnight didnt help. It also did not help that I was not the hurting kind, as it were. I would walk away from a fight far more often than participating in one, because, quite honestly, I'd more often than not hurt the tormentor much more than he was able to hurt me. Physically, at least. Even in the two/three/four-against-one confrontations I would encounter. It was unending, and ruined my school life.
Through my world view I started to hear more and more about "gays" and "homos". It did not seem like they had it easy. Anita Bryant's tirade against them. The Moscone/Milk thing. Bashings. Strange looking guys and gals shouting at rallys. Then GRID/AIDS. No, I didn't feel I could be part of this bunch. I had no desire to dress in drag. I didn't talk with a lisp. I worked on cars, bikes and engines. I built things. I benchpressed more than the coaches in school could. Despite the fact that many of them hurled the same taunts at me as well. I was healthy as a horse and strong as an ox. I couldn't be gay. More to the point, I did not want to be gay.
My formative teenage years became filled with an self-hatred of who I was inside. I was 195 pounds of muscled-up, raging teenage hormones with absolutely no outlet for them. I lost myself in my hobbies as a way of hiding my pent-up feelings and desires. It is this aspect of my life that became a double-edged battleaxe for me, for what it took from me in self-realization and potential relationships, it gave to me my numerous abilities and inclinations. I have talents that many would practically kill for, and an explorative sense about me that keeps me always increasing those talents and aquiring new ones. I became what could be defined as a new-age renaissance man, but I would always feel incomplete.
By my early 30s, that incomplete part of me started to consume me. I had lied to myself and those around me for far too long, and my honesty and openness would not allow me to continue the lying. The hatred had to stop, because it was eating me up. Time had come to open up my Fort Knox-like closet and be true to others, and more importantly myself. I felt as if I had been looking at a playground from a bedroom window and wished I could come out to play. The other view from that window was also of a battleground, a war zone, and it reminded me why I stayed inside.
I wanted to play. Oh, how I wanted to play. But something had changed. It was time to fight also. And fight the good fight I will. I was no longer afraid. I was terrified. I clicked open the vault door that was the exit from my closet and I stepped into the light of day and those around me for the first time as my true self. What they saw was a man battered and beaten down by a war he had waged for many years, spent and crying. But alive. And among countless new friends and fellow warriors. I won my personal war, and I am even stronger for it. I was finally complete. And I was truly home.
This was also a time that AIDS and it's destruction became closer to my heart than it had been before. While I personally did not lose any close friends to the disease, I now have come to know many who were living with HIV. I will do whatever is in my power to help in this ongoing battle. It's personal now.
In recent years, a renewed war against those who trumpet their false morality and bear internal hatred towards gay people has added to the burden that AIDS has given people like me. I intend to fight this combined threat with every fiber of my being.
After my internal battles, this should be easy.
AIDS had a profound effect on me in a non-medical yet still insidious and ugly way. It set the stage for the longest and heaviest bout of self-hatred in me.
AIDS, then known as GRID, made headlines at a youthful and confusing time in my life. Before the news hit I had been coming to grips with the notion that my fascination with men, muscles, body fur, strength and such over the years was more than simply an aspiration to those results when at the gym. No, it became more and more clear that ol' awkward teenage Phil just might be gay himself. You see, I actually did lead a somewhat sheltered and isolated life, my view of the world was seem through television, radio and newspapers when it came to news and national/world events.
My first exposure to the notion of homosexuality was having the word thrown at me by other kids at school. It seems that I matured physically well ahead of most of the other 'children' in school and as a result I was taunted and physically tested contantly. The fu-manchu mustache that seemed to appear overnight didnt help. It also did not help that I was not the hurting kind, as it were. I would walk away from a fight far more often than participating in one, because, quite honestly, I'd more often than not hurt the tormentor much more than he was able to hurt me. Physically, at least. Even in the two/three/four-against-one confrontations I would encounter. It was unending, and ruined my school life.
Through my world view I started to hear more and more about "gays" and "homos". It did not seem like they had it easy. Anita Bryant's tirade against them. The Moscone/Milk thing. Bashings. Strange looking guys and gals shouting at rallys. Then GRID/AIDS. No, I didn't feel I could be part of this bunch. I had no desire to dress in drag. I didn't talk with a lisp. I worked on cars, bikes and engines. I built things. I benchpressed more than the coaches in school could. Despite the fact that many of them hurled the same taunts at me as well. I was healthy as a horse and strong as an ox. I couldn't be gay. More to the point, I did not want to be gay.
My formative teenage years became filled with an self-hatred of who I was inside. I was 195 pounds of muscled-up, raging teenage hormones with absolutely no outlet for them. I lost myself in my hobbies as a way of hiding my pent-up feelings and desires. It is this aspect of my life that became a double-edged battleaxe for me, for what it took from me in self-realization and potential relationships, it gave to me my numerous abilities and inclinations. I have talents that many would practically kill for, and an explorative sense about me that keeps me always increasing those talents and aquiring new ones. I became what could be defined as a new-age renaissance man, but I would always feel incomplete.
By my early 30s, that incomplete part of me started to consume me. I had lied to myself and those around me for far too long, and my honesty and openness would not allow me to continue the lying. The hatred had to stop, because it was eating me up. Time had come to open up my Fort Knox-like closet and be true to others, and more importantly myself. I felt as if I had been looking at a playground from a bedroom window and wished I could come out to play. The other view from that window was also of a battleground, a war zone, and it reminded me why I stayed inside.
I wanted to play. Oh, how I wanted to play. But something had changed. It was time to fight also. And fight the good fight I will. I was no longer afraid. I was terrified. I clicked open the vault door that was the exit from my closet and I stepped into the light of day and those around me for the first time as my true self. What they saw was a man battered and beaten down by a war he had waged for many years, spent and crying. But alive. And among countless new friends and fellow warriors. I won my personal war, and I am even stronger for it. I was finally complete. And I was truly home.
This was also a time that AIDS and it's destruction became closer to my heart than it had been before. While I personally did not lose any close friends to the disease, I now have come to know many who were living with HIV. I will do whatever is in my power to help in this ongoing battle. It's personal now.
In recent years, a renewed war against those who trumpet their false morality and bear internal hatred towards gay people has added to the burden that AIDS has given people like me. I intend to fight this combined threat with every fiber of my being.
After my internal battles, this should be easy.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-12-02 09:12 am (UTC)You're my hero.
Thanks for sharing.
(another giant hug with a stolen peck on the cheek)
no subject
Date: 2004-12-02 09:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-12-02 10:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-12-02 09:12 am (UTC)Thanks for telling your story.
no subject
Date: 2004-12-02 10:05 am (UTC)My story is indeed far more complex than this, and my original entry was more involved and in-depth, but I condensed it to save time and my fingers after losing the original one. At least I didnt drop it entirely like I have with some others that suffered the same fate.
Something I think you'd enjoy...
Date: 2004-12-02 09:22 am (UTC)http://www.webgoldsmith.com/motorhead.html
saw this and thought of you...
(smooch)
Re: Something I think you'd enjoy...
Date: 2004-12-02 10:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-12-02 10:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-12-02 12:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-12-02 02:18 pm (UTC)Reading your personal story, I'm touched by your struggle with societies' expectations, and especially by the careless cruelty of other children. Some of those cruel children never grow up. They just become Fundies or Repuglicans.
I know it's difficult for gays of your generation to understand the deep horror we experienced in the 80s, but I'm grateful that you try to grasp the enormity of it, and want to do something to help.
It's my belief that we need to work on the next generation, give them our collective wisdom, broaden their horizons and pass on our history. They may have it easier coming out than we did, but the challenges they face are just as daunting and dangerous as the ones we overcame in our youth.
I admire your resolve, my friend. Keep it up!
no subject
Date: 2004-12-07 02:33 pm (UTC)I so wish I could explain these kinds of things through my music. I'd love to go around the country and shove other people's homophobia up their noses. Show them what it's like to have this complete internal wasteland because of their stupid hang-ups over AIDS and sexuality.