Love Not Lust?

Okay, so this whole morning, I have been indulging myself in videos and other blogs based on open relationships. (Okay, maybe some porn surfing on tumblr, too) This idea has been floating around in my head ever since I broke up with my first boyfriend, I believe. I don't even think I was fully aware of it up until that point, which shocks me because I've seen the BearCity movies about a hundred times and it features open relationships and polyamorous relationships. For the sake of my own sanity and for not offending anyone, I think I am going to split my post on this. Originally, I thought this post was going to include the ideals of monogamy, open relationships, and polyamory, but somehow it just does not feel right anymore. I guess down this path of unwinding thoughts and bottled up feelings, I will figure out my answer. Sit up straight class, and pay attention! Professor Parsley's class is in session. (I can't wait for that to be a reality!)

Ever since I have broken up with my first boyfriend, I feel like my world has expanded three times over. This baffles me. I used to think I was extremely well versed and I guess understood the workings of most things, when in fact I remained ignorant. I knew of a lot of things, but I never really knew to what extent they functioned or even how they functioned or even moreso, what they actually mean.

In my research, online and in person, I've learned that quite a few people indulge in open relationships. This passed summer, I started working at a gay resort called Rainbow Mountain, and this was the best experience I've ever had. Granted, there were definitely some times that made me want to blow the place up, but overall a good experience and I couldn't imagine where my head would be if I hadn't started working there. I don't think I would be as developed or far along as I would have been if I hadn't worked there. I say that because this was the first time I have ever been fully surrounded by other gay people on a constant basis and it had definitely taught me things. It was also a huge confidence booster, but mainly taught me things.

I think in my time there, I have seen more open relationships than I have seen closed. I was constantly being introduced to couples, obviously more couples than singles, and I would come to the realization that they were open due to their tendencies inside and out of the main building where I checked them in. For every one closed relationship I met, I probably met three or four open relationships. Even now, this still astounds me. I think what I question most of all, is why that still astounds me and what does this mean for me.

Obviously, the main reason as to why it astounds me is because I was raised with a different ideal, as I'm sure everyone else was, too. However, it goes beyond that for me. When I was first coming to accept my homosexuality, I would watch gay weddings, marriage proposals, and a channel called Gay Family Values where I would watch a family with two fathers raise their children and tackle topics of everyday life. In all of these videos, nothing led me to believe that anything else was possible, which was very ignorant and naive of me to think. In those videos, I think I pushed myself to see myself in those representations of gay people. Marrying one man, having kids, a pup(dog), and living happily ever after. In those videos, I never saw anything else possible, which at the time, I was okay with. I think I knew, for the most part, that ultimately this was what I wanted.

In those videos, the idea of open relationships were never brought up. In that same instance, looking back I think they were almost frowned upon. But now, it makes me wonder if that were entirely true. All of those videos focused on being "proper" gays and setting a representation for gay people and standing up for rights. They were always talking about what we all ultimately wanted and that was equality and the ability to love without fear. That being said, why would I believe that they were in open relationships or that they could even exist?

Now I know that that isn't entirely true. Not all gay people want the same thing. Just as straight people don't. Not every women wants to get married and have kids. Some people are perfectly content with being single, or having a relationship and a puppy. Point is, we are all different and we all have different levels of satisfaction. And that is okay.

As for why it still may astound me? I don't exactly know. I think because I still hold onto those ideals from when I was younger. Part of me has more hope to see a relationship that stands strong in monogamy. Not to mean that other couples that are open aren't strong, but to stand out amongst the crowd in my belief makes you strong. When I see these cute couples, even though part of me wants to play with them, the other part wants to just hang with them and watch their love grow together. I think I saw that for the first time a couple of weeks ago.

On New Years Eve, there was a big Rainbow Mountain dinner. The restaurant was insane. The front desk (where I work) was even crazier. Aside from all the madness, there was an older couple who checked in and we're SUPER nice; their clothes even matched! After they sat for dinner, the one gentleman walks out of the restaurant in such distress and turns to me for conversation. In the midst of me being busy, I caught his distress and attempted to comfort him. He tells me that he is ready to propose to his boyfriend. At this moment, every bit of stress left me and I just gave him a big teary eyed hug. At this moment, not only was I happy for this man and his boyfriend, but I developed such a hope that that could be me one day. Proposing to one man and us tackling life together. And only together. Like I said, after all of the open relationships I had seen, this shocked me.

What does this mean for me? It may complicate things in a sense. Or it might simplify them. This means clarifying what exactly I want to do in a relationship. It means that I may have to be prepared to have that conversation someday. In some ways, this is good. Having an open relationship does open the door to further conversations. I believe that the only way for open relationships, among all other ones, only prosper due to healthy conversations. I would hope that a lot more of these couples have a healthy channel of communication. One that does not seem healthy is the "don't ask don't tell" method.

I could never see that format working for me. I would want to know who my partner is playing with and that he's being safe about it. I know two couples that follow this method, and it astounds me that they're still together. One seems to bash his partner for being "prudish" so he won't tell him things. In the other, one partner had contracted HIV, didn't tell his partner (or possibly didn't know) had sex with his partner, and he contracted it. The partner whom I knew (whom contracted it second) believed he contracted it from his husband. Again, absolutely astounds me.

I would never like to be in a relationship like these. Granted, they are still together and they work, but I would want to be open with my partner. If he didn't want to do it or I didn't, I would expect the other to accept that and not bash the other. If we were open, I would expect us to lay down ground rules and be open about what's happened. That's what this would mean for me.

Being in a relationship is difficult sometimes. I could never describe it as work. It is more of an art that you must provide constant attention to and practice. Being in an open relationship could be even more difficult because more conversations and adjustments must be had. For me, I don't know if I could be in an open relationship. It takes the right guy I guess.

Talking Professional

Woah, who's this guy?! I know, I have been on an incredible hiatus lately, a lot bigger than I had intended. I find it a bit funny that my reasoning is always that life has taken me away and I just never find the time to write, and yet, it is absolutely my reasoning! You would think after me quitting one of my jobs that I would have a bit more time, but I certainly don't! I work literally almost 40 hours a week and when I'm not there, I'm in class, and when I'm not there, I'm cleaning the apartment. The little bit of time I actually have to myself is generally on the bus when I just want to dive into the Harry Potter books.

Anywho, life in the apartment has been GREAT! It is literally the best thing I have ever done. I couldn't be happier. My life appears in this new light, a light called freedom and responsibility. In this light, I do whatever it is I deem beneficial to my life with my boyfriend, my job, and in pursuit of my career. I make all my choices and I don't have to refer to anyone else.

The best part is, no part of my move was detrimental to my relationship with my parents, at least not too much. My mom has come over and seen the entire apartment and even complimented on it! The parts that I was the most afraid of showing her were the parts that she seemed to have loved the most! I was petrified of showing her the bedroom, which holds two intimate pictures of me and Kyle and a Mr. And Mr. Sign, and the bathroom that holds two small his and his towels. She loved it all.

My dad has yet to see the apartment,  but according to my mom, he couldn't be more proud of me. She told me that he brags to everyone that I live on my own and how I afford it all with one job and I'm going to school. Every Sunday when we go to my parents house to watch whatever series me and my brothers are watching, I go to talk to my dad and he still talks to me, which is a plus, but beyond that, he seems the same.

Now that I have brought everyone up to speed, it is time to talk about the real topic. That's right everyone, I'm talking about the real scoop! The official trash. The bad mother SHUT YOUR MOUTH! Grab your cups of hot chocolate, take a swig, and let's discuss.

I work in a grocery store in the produce department. This place was even my first job. I have worked at this store since I was sixteen as a bag boy and have worked my way up since. I had gone from being a young bag boy, to being a cashier, to having worked with my managers, to now being in produce. Obviously, I like my job. I've been there for two years! I don't like working in certain parts of the store, but overall, it was a good first job and is a good place for me to hang out until I can work in my field.

The best part about my job are my coworkers. I get along with almost all of them and they all love me. They all know, for the most part, about me being gay and they're all cool with it. They've known me since I was just starting out and have seen me mature ever since. They love my work ethic and especially my ability to have fun at work. I'm always joking and always smiling. The customers love it, my coworkers love it, and it makes me smile to see such a smile on their faces.

Now that I work in a different department, I have more responsibilities and different coworkers. I still love them all the same, in fact, we're almost like a bit of a family. There's not many of us and we're not that close, but we work together pretty well and we get the job done. We know not to take each other seriously, we're a department filled with guys, NOTHING is ever too serious. Unless something gets messed up and puts us behind, then shit gets real. However, we all know what gets each other tick and sometimes we push on those buttons, but at the end of the day, we all have the same goal.

Me and my manager have a good relationship as well. I'm pretty sure I'm his third favorite part timer. There's this older gentleman who's been there for a long time, another guy who had been there longer than any other part timer other than the older gentleman, and then me. I've only been there about 5 months, so that's about what I expect.

As I've said, everyone at my job knows that I'm gay, including him. Just to get this out there, he is in no way homophobic. He and a lot of my other new coworkers know that I'm gay and none of them give a shit. They hadn't done much more than a quick flinch when I slid it into conversation, but nothing more than that.

Today, I was joking with him and he always jumps to either gay jokes or black jokes, which I don't mind. I actually find them pretty hilarious if they're well thought out. Anyways, he made a joke to which me and another coworker laughed at and then my assistant store manager came over, which I couldn't care less. My assistant store manager is no more intimidating than my other coworkers, and he knows I'm gay as well.

The three of us just started joking around and bullshitting when my manager asked me about working tomorrow. I told him I could only work in the morning because I had already made plans with my partner. Quickly, he stopped and focused the conversation on the fact that I said "partner". He had done this once before but not as big as he did this time.

Just like he did once before, he asked me why I refer to my boyfriend as my partner and if my boyfriend appreciated the fact that I referred to him that way and if he refers to me that way. In the spur of the moment, I just joked with him and played it off as I did with anything that he said. I guess my assistant store manager felt a bit awkward cause he glanced at me and walked away chuckling. This moment ended with my manager giving a very nervous laugh meaning it was funny that my assistant store manager reacted that way even though it shouldn't have been brought up that way, but letting me know he was just joking and sorry if he annoyed me.

I hadn't really been annoyed with him, he just made me think. It was definetly something I had thought about before. This was the second time he said this. Why did he ask? Why does he care? He doesn't care, but why would he pick on that? The main important thing was, he was right.

Why did I refer to Kyle that way? Why does Kyle do it? Why do most gay guys do this? Was it just me? Does it mean anything? I certainly didn't like referring to him that way. So why did I do it? I wouldn't do it if I were talking to any of my other coworkers that I'm friends with.

It makes me wonder if it has anything to do with the fact that they were my managers? Maybe it's just a part of a professional front that I put on when around them? The only problem with that is I'm always talking to them as if they were just my friends; it's just how our relationships are.

Maybe it could be a defense mechanism. Just like in the way that I usually tell people I'm gay by just inconspicuously sliding it into conversation. I always kind of avoid just having to bluntly say "I'm gay" by usually using the word "partner" or something like that. It usually breaks the initial reaction of wanting to pause and focus on the fact that I just said I'm gay because it kind of explains that it isn't a big deal, nor is it something that we need to focus on.

By using the word "partner," I avoid directly and bluntly outing myself by saying boyfriend. When I say boyfriend, I feel like everyone automatically think of me having sex with another guy and/or they immediately think less or something of me and that's not what I want. I don't want anyone getting that thought that now there is this barrier between us that makes us different.

But is that right? Is that fair to Kyle? More so, is that fair to me? Is it fair that I don't acknowledge Kyle with as big a name as boyfriend. Is it fair that after all the fighting and arguing that I jump back into hiding mechanisms because I was too afraid to just come out and say that I'm dating another guy that I refer to as my boyfriend? No, it is not.

I think I would even be a little offended if Kyle referred to me as his "partner" rather than his boyfriend. In certain circumstances I understand, like in the case of the elderly where you just don't want to have the argument. However, when it's in everyday normal situations, we deserve to be as open as we want to. Straight couples don't refer to each other as their partner, so why should we?

Saying "boyfriend" does not make me somehow less professional.  If anything, it should make me feel empowered. To be able to take over conversation and not show any fear, or to show that I can be me and have a boyfriend. If anyone has a problem with it, they don't have to talk to me.

I should thank my manager for bringing this to the light for me, but I don't want to give him that much credit. Let me know what you all think, should saying partner matter? What is the difference in meaning between the two?

Thanks for reading everyone. Please remember to enjoy what you have and appreciate it. Don't take what you have for granted.

~Be Breezy ~

A New Life.

Hello everyone, the last time I wrote, I was in a very bad place. Actually, the last couple posts I had been in a very bad place; a place that I escape into often. I definetly don't regret writing those posts, as they were written "in the moment" and expressed my truest feelings. Every now and again I even find myself rereading those posts as a reminder of where I am and why I still may feel the way I have been. Now, time has passed and I've decided to take a huge leap in my life. In turn, this doesn't make room for much of an escape route in my mind. Sit down everyone, as this is going to be a bumpy ride.

Everyday, I face the the events that have scared me all my life. For years I had tried to keep my biggest fear, just a fear, but now, it's a reality. This reality is something that I face in my dreams, in my relationship, in my memory, and in my house hold. I knew coming out to my parents was going to be more than just revelation; more than just a weight off my shoulders. . . It was going to be an end of an era and life as I knew it.

My parents are incredibly homophobic. It sucks, but it's true. I've known it for years and I thought I had came to accept it. I remember thinking, "They can either choose to overlook this and stay in my life, or they can choose to deny and fight this and be exiled from my life." I always expected that to be easy. For that matter, I guess I kind of hoped those were just going to be words. I had hoped that my parents would never go that far and would just realize that this isn't a big deal, but so far, they haven't. Day in and day out, this is and problem that we face everytime we look at each other. And now, this is a problem I can no longer handle.

Back in October, or November, I made the decision to move out with my boyfriend. I had decided I can't deal with the stares any more. I could no longer deal with the silence. The lectures. The pointless battles. The constriction. The thoughts. The fear. My anxiety starts here.

For weeks, I couldn't study at home because I couldn't help thinking that everytime I wasn't around, they were talking about me. I would listen close to the voices amongst the walls, patiently waiting for my name to be recited in that tone of disappointment. I would pause to hear what I was going to be lectured about next. To hear what else they didn't like about me. To hear what was next to come my way.

I couldn't take it anymore. Before, I could just leave my house and hang out with my friends and be back later when everyone was too tired, but now that wasn't even an option. My dad once said, "there's no point in being home if you're not comfortable." And that was exactly where I was at. I couldn't be around my parents. Just the aura around them was enough to consume me and eat at me. Even now I feel that aura exuding around, and it is letting me know, I am not welcome.

I always hope that me and my parents would null and void these auras and reconcile our relationship, but that just doesn't seem like it will be a reality. Today, I had one of those moments. I had off from work today and so did he. After class, we were free to hang out together, as we never are for more than 3 hours. Usually, I'd use my excuse of "I have to work today," but today, like some others, I had a ray of hope. Maybe today I didn't have to comoletely lie to my mom. Maybe I could just tell her I'm going to go to dinner with my friends and hang out for a bit beforehand! Fortunately yet unfortunately, my boyfriend brought me back to reality.

About three weeks ago, my mom even gave me trouble going to the movies after work. Granted I was going with my boyfriend, but my best friend (bro) was also going, which I informed her about. She asked me why I hadn't asked my brother, as he sometimes does go with us, and proceeded to end with, "unless you're not really going with bro." Obviously, she doesn't trust me and she still has bad blood from the passed couple months, which I carry with me as well.

What was I thinking? I was going to ruin my chance of hanging out with my boyfriend by telling her one little lie versus the believable lie? That's the hope I'm talking about. The hope where I believe that this is all over and things can go back to a very twisted version of normal. Maybe soon that'd turn into her being okay with me saying boyfriend. But unless we're being naive, chances are, that just won't happen.

I'm always thinking of where we'll end up. the other day, I was in the car with my boyfriend and his mother listening to them talk to his aunt. Cracking jokes with her and reminiscing. It hit me kind of abruptly; I don't have that anymore and I won't have that later. I've heard stories where people have come out and they've lost their relationship with their parents, but it feels much different when it's yours that's gone. I can't just walk into the kitchen and joke with my mom anymore. I won't get to introduce my family to my boyfriend as he introduced me to his. I won't be able to just call up my aunt or cousins and just have a conversation anymore because that thread is gone.

This creates a feeling of anxiety and stress on me that not many will understand, and if you don't already know how I feel about people trying to understand, let me set the record straight. . . I don't like it. Don't try to understand how I feel or relate, because you can't. So you may have an aunt that doesn't accept it. Maybe you have an uncle who turned his back. But you don't have your parents turning their back. You don't have those great memories with them, knowing that they're going to just be memories. You don't know how it feels to be disgusting in your mother and father's eyes and not wanting to be acknowledged more than a fly on the wall, so please. . . Don't try.

Move in day will be a day full of anxiety. For that matter, the week of is going to be filled with anxiety and stress. How will my parents feel about this? Will they pretend not to care and act as if they will be better off without me? Will they act as if they want me to stay? Will they fight me on leaving? Will they still want to keep a relationship with me after I leave? All these questions are ones that haunt me everyday. These are questions that make me nervous for the future.

Now to take a shift in focus, let's talk about my moving out. This is a step in my life that I hadn't intended to happen for at least a couple more years, but sometimes you've just got to take what life gives you and run with it. Although this was not something I had planned to happen for a while, I'm kind of excited that it is happening. To think, in a couple of weeks, I will be getting to decorate my own place and wake up next to the love of my life every morning and get to lie next to him every night when we go to bed. We will take turns cleaning, cooking, maybe washing clothes, etc. Soon, we'll get to do all the things we never got to do in the 10 months that we have been dating that couple would have normally done already. We'll finally get to stay in and watch movies, cook food for each other, sleep together, and shower together. I couldn't think of a better way to live other than with him.

However, this still brings me fear, anxiety, and stress. Along with this exciting adventure brings trials that I have never really had to face before. My parents had already made me pay "rent" since I was a senior in high school, so that's nothing entirely new, but now I will be paying for electricity, cable, car insurance, and groceries. Along with that, I will have to face doing my own laundry and learning how to do it well on my own.

This is a whole new world to me and it is nothing that I take lightly. This is more than just working, but also budgeting and time management. I have to assure that my job is giving me a certain amount of hours a week to afford everything. Along with that, I have to ensure I am providing myself with enough time for my school work. Now, i must take on the responsibility of doing my taxes in my own and filling out fafsa by myself. In this situation, both of them come first.

Moreover, I have to be conscious that I cannot put all my focus on those two attributes. He may not want to admit it, but I have to incorporate attention time to my boyfriend. I have to let him know how handsome he is, everyday. Let him know how much I love him, at least three times a day. Make sure I give him a hug, at least once. Do something wierd to him, constantly. Just make sure he knows that he is a main attribute to my life and that that will never change. No matter how overwhelmed I get, I must always ensure these rules.

Even right now, the anxiety trails through my head, but more in a self worth kind of way. I find it kind of hard to explain this, so I will do the best I can. In this move, I don't have much. I've accepted that most of the stuff I have, can't come with me. It almost makes me feel like an orphan with a box. You have a box full of stuff that you take with you, and that is your only memory of what you ever had.

Sadly, the best way to describe this is through comparison. My boyfriend is moving into our place with his dresser, his desk, his hutch, his car, his chairs, his tvs, and his curtains. In this move, I will be bringing my clothes. Granted, we bought stuff together, using his card.

Being that this is all new to me, I never took interest in buying couches, buying tables, rugs, etc. He took interest in all of this a while ago and was already on it. Everyday, he searched for the best deals and came to me with ideas and I just went to work and said, "I like that." This makes me feel inferior. Not only inferior, but as if I'm not contributing anything except for my side of the payments. Don't let me cut off anything, I feel as though I don't have anything.

I felt inferior because this was not something I took an interest in doing. This was something I should have been doing, too, but wasnt. I felt like I wasn't contributing anything because I never really had anything to bring to the table, and if I did, they weren't really great ideas anyways. Finally, I feel like I don't own anything because I don't. And worst of all, this should lead us to a conversation that neither of us want to have, one I am petrified to have, and if you read between the lines enough, you'll understand.

It all kind of hit me suddenly, but all I will have to my name will be the clothes I wear. Shit, if I'm lucky, I'll get my piano, too, but those will be the only things. I thought of it today while helping clean my boyfriend's car. He liked to do it himself because he takes pride in his own, meanwhile I stood there with the only things I owned.

Since we're moving in together, I shouldn't be thinking in the sense of mines, just ours, but it doesn't seem like something that is that simple to me. Like I said, this is all still brand new to me, and it will take some getting used to. All of it. The lack of ownership. The amount of responsibility. The lack of family. This was all going to be apart of my new life. Even though I'm scared shitless, I'm excited. I'm excited for the adventures that will await me and the trials that surround them. It's time to put my anxiety aside, and get ready to run full force. Ready. Set. Go.

~Be Breezy~

Why is it always the gay?

Ok, so this is more of an internal post. This is something really personal about me and something that I have never told anyone aloud. Frankly, this will be the first time I'm even admitting to it or even giving it some acknowledgence... It's something I've done all my life, and it always keeps me in a bind. Most of us blame society, I blame myself for everything.

This is my internal problem. I blame every bad thing that happens to me solely on the fact of me being gay. I just failed my test, all because I couldn't focus and all I could think about was being gay and men. I feel upset one day, must be the gay in me tearing me down. I don't want to walk to the other side of the classroom, why? Because I'm gay and everyone will talk about me behind my back because I am. Why don't I like hanging out with certain people, because I don't want to burden them with my gay.

It starts weighing down on me and almost giving me low self-esteem. I feel almost less than. I feel as though I don't belong and all I can say is because I'm gay.

Why? Why is that always my excuse? I feel like part of me does it because of all the stories I've heard about the internalized hate people had for themselbes for being gay and I felt I had to do the same to be gay. I felt like I got off easy in my coming out. I always pretty much knew since I was exposed to porn at a very young age. I knew I liked boys and eventually came to figure out that meant gay. The worst part about my coming out process might have been the lies. Beyond that, I wasn't bullied, I didn't have bad any reactions (so far), and I never went through any real self harm.

I know people are ok with me being gay, but somehow my mind always takes me back there. I'm always thinking the worst of things in advance. I dream about the moments where I get jumped for being gay or be involved in a hate crime. I feel like sometimes, it gives me happiness but also something to blame my issues on.

This is a short post being that I don't really know internally what is going on, but I know something is wrong. A clear sign was when I got drunk about two months ago when my parents weren't here and I told my friend I wanted to get drunk. People always say in the moments you are dunk, you are the most truthful. Well my truth came out, and I had bottled a lot in at that point... Still am. I was bottling up anger, frustration, loneliness, self-esteem issues, and questions of who I am. So in the midst of me being drunk, I noticed my friend walked away from me for a second and caught wind that he was talking to this girl. I knew he didn't have a problem with me or anything, by this time we'd been friends for about 4 or 5 years and he's known I was gay for about 2 or 3, but I was maybe a little jealous AMD emotional. I got overly upset and bursted into tears asking "why am I gay." I hated myself for it, I hated being gay solely because of the loneliness it brought me. I was so hysterically upset I called my sister and cried to her for maybe 10 minutes just repeating saying stuff I didn't think I believed, but would always dream about in my phases of blaming the gay. Finally, I calmed down and I realized this was something that could eventually get out of control.

I can't keep bottling this up... But I don't know who to turn to. I don't want to ask kids in my GSA because I don't lime referring to other kids on matters like these. I don't want to turn to friends because I don't like dumping my problems on people and I don't like being pitied. I don't want to turn to teachers because I don't want to worry anyone or get a reply I'm not ready to hear. And I can't turn to my parents because of my conditions as a closeted teen.

I don't know what to do, but I know something must be done. I can't keep bottling everything all in for it may end up in my drunken emotional breakdown or even worse. I don't know what I will need to make me feel better or even if there is anything truly wrong with me and it may all be in my head... I just don't know... And that's what scares me the most...