Score one for courage

Proud of you, David Testo.

I wonder when the Philippines will have closeted celebrities that become brave enough to come out?

It ends today.

Congratulations to all of you who can celebrate this freedom!

Very True

I wish you all the freedom that comes with accepting who you are, and letting the world know you as well.
Life is indeed too damn short.

So You're Finally Straight?

Have you ever met Roy G. Biv?

In the many years that I have been searching for my identity, I realized the truth that even in the gay community, there are very many shades of pink and very varied combinations of the rainbow. During my high school and college years, I can still recall how I used to struggle to find a role-model and others to relate with in terms of my then still emerging bisexuality. Having come from an extremely Catholic exclusive school for boys, when the first shades of the rainbow entered my life I was horrified and on the verge of suicidal. It felt like a blow from karma itself, considering my earlier grade school years were spent picking on the evidently gay classmates and beating them up. Thankfully, such idiotic machismo of the past were resolved with apologies way back, and I was back then left with the need to find others "like me" in a world that still believes the Virgin Mary made the sun dance.

I believe in miracles.  But those that "happen" in the Philippines... are just harder to believe.

I recall meeting many new faces and making lots of great friends. Some were straight, and some were gay. But more and more I saw that none of them were like me at all. The straight friends shared some interests of mine, but unlike me could barely tolerate theater musicals or Kylie Minogue. My gay friends loved the empress Kylie herself, but then were also into other music divas and were definitely far more effeminate and opinionated over things that I could relate with. The moment I walked to share my musings on the hot soccer player in my class, my straight male friends would shake their heads and helpfully suggest I just wank one off to calm myself down. I was just going through a phase, they would say. Til I found the right girl. When, on the other hand, I would gab about the sexy lady who agreed to be my photography model, my gay friends would call me traitor or claim I was still pretending to be straight and far to chicken to admit I was a fag. I didn't get it. Why were both sides of my life saying I didn't exist.

And that really sucked.

I AM NOW!

Nowadays, thankfully, the world has learned to see the rainbow and all its colors. Don't get me wrong, there are still a huge portion of the world that fails to grasp the broader and more accepting scope of human sexuality. But at least I do know now that real honest-to-goodness bisexual guys like me who loves cock and pussy and breasts, armpits and ass and all do actually exist. I am not alone. And while there are many still close-minded amusingly "just as homophobic as homophobes" gay guys out there, the kind of gay men who think all bisexuals are just confused or afraid to admit they are gay, there also are many who know that people like me can love another regardless of how the said other goes through puberty.

I wrote about this topic much more animatedly with a clear evident sense of frustration in my entry called The Battle for Bisexuality. I sort of cover it again today because I found myself thinking of the time many people who met me a few years back when I was still with my then girlfriend would ask, "So does this mean you are finally straight?"

One man's drama, another man's... well... drama.

Why think of that all of the sudden? Because it made me remember how many people who have embraced me as me and are proud to be my friend are really still thinking of bisexuality as just a transitional period.    I don't blame them for not knowing any better.  After all, if during my time, I was struggling to find good role models and information regarding my sexuality, I can imagine that now in the age of Google and Facebook, the search for reliable information regarding bisexuality can still be daunting.  The internet after all is filled with information:  a lot of it born from ignorance and hate, some of it born from actual wisdom, and occasionally a gem that has precisely what you need to know but is the hardest to find.

So here, in this post, I thought I'd share two links which I feel are very nice write-ups on both the myths that people tend to believe about bisexuality, as well as a broad coverage of the many facets of the gay rainbow.

They should have an episode devoted to rainbow myths.

The myths were tackled by the Bi's and Allies caucus of Pride at UIC.    They nicely list down the top seven misconceptions people tend to have about bisexuality including the myth that a bisexual person can never be faithful to one person, and that straight society actually accepts bisexuals more.

Sorry, I know she's a great person, but I still find her unibrow scary.

The other is the GOT QUEER campaign of Simon Fraser University which nicely adapts the "Got Milk" ads into an awareness movement to help bring out better gender sensitivity.  The campaign actually touches on a very wide gamut of things, and for sure there will be some who will question their choice of terms.

Ultimately, I am still happy to know such resources do exist now and if there are any still closeted guys and girls out there who actually love reading my blog, I hope these two links help you find your way.  Coming out is not just all hype and melodrama.  There really are advantages and very powerful emotionally fulfilling memories born from the act of taking that stand to proclaim you are not afraid of being yourself.  I hope that someday, you will find the courage I too found when I came out to my parents.

Yes to love in all forms.  Love!

All we want to do is love the people we love, after all.
Given all the misconceptions and lies bandied around about us, the least you can do for yourself is be proud of who you are and prove them wrong.

How do you describe a feeling?

I will always love Kylie Minogue.

Simply Wow.

While I may have a strangely broad range of music in my collection, my appreciation of her music used to be something that I had to keep private.  Partly because I wasn't quite out of the closet back then and partly because I didn't want to "share her", I used to catch Kylie's music videos on tv or hear her songs and without any outward signs, enjoy the experience of hearing her sing to me once again.  Being three years younger than my brother in the height of the 80s, I was pretty much expected to like the things he did.  When he was deeply into The Cure, I had to get into them as well.  When Depeche Mode and A-ha sang their songs, I bobbed my head and swayed my fists to the beat.  So when it came to Kylie songs and a few other Madonna tunes, I treated them as secret songs that I alone relished.

I did that for a few years.

There was I time I wanted to marry you, Tori.

There weren't much friends in my younger years who liked Kylie songs.  As strange as it may sound, even by the time college came around, I knew far more people who loved Tori Amos than I did people who loved Kylie.   Having a group that shared my love for Tori, I did in many ways gravitate more towards her music and soon ended up with both a ticket to watch her concert in Los Angeles, a video copy of her concert and unplugged performance, an $80 dollar Venus Envy pendant, and a number of her music cds.     As to Kylie, I only had my memories of her duet with Kermit the Frog and a silent joy in my heart every time I'd hear the Locomotion play.

Thankfully, all that has changed now.

Kylie is back in my life and even better, my partner shares a strong passion for her songs as well.  While other artist like Pink, Ke$sha, Rhianna or Robyn might come up with their own dance-throbbing tunes, I always found myself struggling to completely enjoy their songs particularly because of the kind of message they espouse.

I sense a conflict between message and image.

Take for instance, Pink's "Raise your Glass":

So raise your glass if you are wrong

in all the right ways, all my underdogs

we will never be anything but loud

and nitty gritty dirty little freaks

won't you come on and raise your glass!

I don't grasp the pride and joy in being different in her lyrics.  I know the message is there, but I don't feel it the way I do in other songs.  Ultimately, as fun as the song is to dance to, I struggle to embrace what Pink wants to celebrate in a song here.  Her music video, thankfully, pushes more the message that I love to hear from her.  I guess I just wish I could feel it from her song.  Different strokes I guess.

I go through the same trouble with Rihanna songs and the rest of them.  While I do understand the emotional strength of a song that channels out anger or discontent (again, I am a huge Tori Amos fan too) I don't get the need to always embrace such negativity and try to make it sound cool.  Especially when the said artist presents herself as Rock rather than Goth and so on and so forth.  It is all a performance.  It is all just an image.  It isn't about singing from the heart.  It feels like its all about singing for the paycheck.

While I admire Gaga for being creative, she has been sorely lacking in being much more original.

Kylie, on the other hand, sings with the campiness of a fag hag who loves her gay audience.  She sings of beauty and being wonderful in all ways one can be.  She sings of heart break but quickly reminds you that you deserve better and you shouldn't just be some drama queen.  She sings of love and celebrates its power as real and beautiful.

Rocky, DJ Symon and Me
(Clearly Rocky and I have had a fair amount of beer by then)

It is such a huge plus for me that my favorite haunt, O bar, has a DJ who understands my love for Kylie and how much Rocky and I love to dance to her songs.  Already there was a time the DJ mixed a series of Kylie songs just for us and made sure to let us know it was meant for us when he played it.   (Thanks again DJ Symon!)   It is interesting how Katy Perry seemingly is on the road of moving in the same direction as Kylie.  I can only wonder though when there would be more people who would learn to look past fluff and hype and appreciate good songs the way they are meant to be.

Already counting the days til Gaga copies even THIS look.

But then again, until that day happens, I don't care if only Rocky and I cheer out loud the moment a Kylie song is played in O bar.   After all, sometimes you do want to keep special things all to yourself and your partner.  Heck Kylie already has a song that captures this!

And it goes like this:

DJ's spinning up my favorite song,

Hurry up and get a grove on.

Light fantastic and it won't be long,

Don't let the moment slip away.

'Cause you and I could find a pleasure, no one else has ever known.

Feels like it is now or never, don't want to be alone

How does it feel in my arms?

How does it feel in my arms?

Do you want it?

Do you need it?

Can you feel it?

Tell me.

How does it feel in my arms?

Keep singing, dancing and spreading the love, Kylie!
You make the world a far better, lovelier, musical place!




For the curious, here is my list of my favorite Kylie songs:

• Locomotion
• Give just a little more time
• Especially for you
• Cant get you out of my head
• Wow
• More more more
• Come into my world
• Fever
• In my Arms
• All the lovers
• Get out of my way

I thought you guys were braver than this

The Philippines recently had its annual Gay Pride March and much to my dismay, I was not able to take part in it this year.  My partner and I had been looking forward to taking part in it for months after experiencing the excitement and pride of being part of something meaningful last year.  Unfortunately, my parents decided that the same weekend was to be a good weekend to fly to Singapore to celebrate my sister's birthday.  So like a good recently outed gay son, I decided to do my share in being part of the family and joined them for the trip.

Last year with my other friends.

Being able to take part in an event that allows you to celebrate being yourself is something I honestly wish more people get a chance to experience.  While coming out is a personal journey in every gay person's life, stepping outside to join the Pride March is a call for courage and the willingness to make a statement.  A statement that says, "We are who we are and we are not ashamed."  And as ironic as it sounds, taking part of the march while wearing a mask since one might still be in the closet is quite welcome.   Just as much as any straight friend joining the march to support their gay friends.   The march, after all, isn't about just being gay.  It is about celebrating the fact as diverse as we all are, we are happy to be who we are.

I remember how excited I was last year to join the Pride March.  I wasn't out to my family.  While most of my co-workers and friends knew I wasn't walking the "straight" path, few neighbors or family friends were aware of my preferences.   But I admired the courage of those who had been part of the march year after year and realized in many ways it was more than just a chance to show off one's gayest costume (like some do).  In fact, those who showed off their gayest costumes were simply doing something I was, back then, afraid to do:  Just be myself and have fun.

My partner and me in our matching black Trek shirts

My partner and I decided to join the march wearing our black Star Trek shirts to celebrate our unity as a couple and as geeks.    And even if I was still in the closet family-wise, I threw away all fears of being discovered and walked with my face clearly visible for all to see.

And experienced very quickly all the hate and bigotry that certain members of society had for me.

They were at the corners, with their banners and placards condemning us for being who we were.  Calling us vile things.  Speaking into their loudspeakers cruel and wicked words.    They used the Lord's name in vain.  They used the Bible as a personal weapon.   And they said WE were the one's who had lost our way.

So much hate from people claiming to love God.

It was the first time they have ever seen me, and they hated me down to the very core of my being.

Some of our friends retaliated.

They made their own posters.  They chanted their own slogans.  They yelled back.  Or sang.  Or threw jokes back.  Insults too.   But all they did was encourage the hate even more.  Fan the flames stronger.  Fed the evil that called itself good.

I felt it was a sad reminder of how people still believed we were best invisible.
Or non-existent.

And even worse was when I heard from people I consider my friends the similar themes of hate.

One facebook friend wrote about the Pride March not representing him since it merely showcased freaks.  Another proudly shared how he was invited to the March but felt it was all just politics.   Was that really how bad it get's here in the Philippines?  That the discrimination ran so deep, rather than take part to BE represented, we would rather insult and demean those who clearly showed a courage superior to our own?   That we would dismiss the march as merely something political, when in fact, it WAS political for the right reasons.  It was political because we deserve to be acknowledged.  We deserve to be recognized.  We deserve to be accepted.  We aren't even seen as mere equals.  It wasn't a call for special treatment.  It was a call to be identified as real.  Damn right it was political!

Yes, it felt so much like this.

How sad, therefore, that its urgency is so easily dismissed and thrown aside.

There I was, stick in Singapore, wishing I could be part of it, and here were friends of mine so content with their own personal concerns that the idea of being part of something bigger felt... unimportant.

It was insulting.  It was depressing.
It nearly drove me to disassociate myself with them.
Who needs friends who don't see the point in seeing you to the very least as equals.
More so when they themselves were gay.

Of course, when it comes to the "other" annual big gay event, the so-called White Party attendance shoots up and celebrations are explosively present.  When it comes to bathhouses and models strutting around in badly designed underwear, you have throes of gay men screaming their tonsils out.   Clearly sex sells.

2010 March Route.  How I wish I was here!

And yet, we are all aware of how much we DO need a political voice.  We read of updates where gay people are arrested in raids as prostitutes merely for having a condom in their possession.  Or of how one's sexuality is too quickly used to judge one's capacity to work, or be a functional member of a family.    The Catholic Bishops' Conference in the Philippines (or as it is more known as, the CBCP) proclaims condoms as a cause of cancer, and refers to 'active homosexuals" as having "victims" as if we were all sexual predators.  Not to mention the undocumented numerous cases of bullying.  Of beatings.  Of all these many forms of discrimination.

Things need to change.
And we need to do our part.

The March to the very least shows we are not afraid.

So I challenge you gay guys out there in Manila.    Stop being content with hiding.    Stop thinking you aren't part of something bigger.   Take that step.  Join the March.

Make a difference.
Be represented by being there to represent yourself.

We can fill the world with rainbows.
We can help make it a better place.

---
thanks to my partner Rocky for most of the pictures of last year's Pride March.
I promise, 2011, I will do all I can to be with you when we attend it.

Reading Between the Updates

The foundations of a relationship can sometimes be gleaned by simply keeping a keen eye on what either of the two seem to celebrate the most.    While a great connection and a rich sex life are both vital to a relationship, one can discern quite easily by glancing at the details what one or the other celebrates the most in their relationship.  It is in such introspections that social media such as Mark Zuckerberg's blue logo monstrosity, Facebook.com, or one's blog can be much more revealing than one expects.

Who needs to worry about losing one's privacy to Facebook
when we're all too willing to already over-share information?

I know of a pair who when I first heard of them was talked about as the perfect sweetest couple EVER.   In many ways, their relationship was deemed to be a prime example of a perfect gay long term relationship.  But then in the scant number of months leading to their break-up, it was quiet evident that all their posts were about themselves and their own INDIVIDUAL celebrations of life.    Updates tended to focus on how one, rather than both, or even at least one talking about the other, enjoyed their day.

"Hit the gym.  Feeling good.  I love today."

"Decided to catch the latest Bond movie.  Should be fun."

"Got a haircut.  Love my new look."

Me.  I.  All about the person and not about them.  All about enjoying life alone.
I couldn't help but wonder when I read them, "Where they not ever together?!?!?"  At one point, the two ate at some Italian restaurant.  Their updates then followed.

"Had delicious pasta today.  Love the food here!"

Came one update.  Okay, so he was enjoying his night... even if it sounded alone.

The other, around the same time, sent this update:

"Bored.   Anxious to go home.  Good food at least."

And again, barely any hint of being together. 

Maybe it was a case of being in the closet.  Or maybe it was a hint that the other wasn't too keen on where they decided to go that night.  But one would have thought the updates would have at least hinted that they were hanging out at the same place.


When things fell south, many were devastated.  To many, it was unthinkable.  How could they have ended such a "perfect" relationship?  I didn't even bat an eyelash.  I could see it a mile away.  They were too happy with their own lives they did not really enjoy sharing it with one another.

Yep, the POKE icon is actually a hidden taunt at what you are.

Another pair I heard of is a stranger mix.  While I don't know them personally, the mutual friends who we share often tell me of what they read in their newsfeed.  Supposedly, the updates that flow have a clear theme.  Travel.  Expensive things.  Costly food.  Outlandish indulgences.  While living a money-landen life is not bad in any way, celebrating them alone does make one wonder:  what is the other doing other than financing all this?    Even worse, all these celebratory posts are to cheer about "they are mine" rather than "we now own this!"  In some ways, I've tried to be more open-minded about such relationships, but deep down I fear the day when the shit hits the fan.  Somehow I already can tell if things go south, "How do we survive this" will come only after the question, "What do I keep?"


Then, there is this pair I know of which loves to play the switcharoo game in their social network updates.  The two are greatly in love and passionately care for one another, but due to personal reasons are openly exploring having sex with other partners.   My feelings on open relationships aside, I am happy that they do at least keep an honest and open flow of communication between them - honestly sharing if they found someone interesting and discussing whether or not it is alright to have fun with the said person or not.  None of the "I'll claim to be single/your ex" manipulations in play.  So their social network updates are tailored to hit the said "market".  I applaud them for their courage in choosing to wade in what I feel is potentially dangerous waters.  The risk of tearing apart trust can be tremendously detrimental to a long term partnership.


I do however pity the poor soul who becomes the victim of their united front.    I can only hope that the poor sod at least is given a clear understanding of what the situation is, and isn't lead on to think he's in a relationship with a single man.

To quote, Sharleen Spiteri and Johnny McElhone,
"You can say what you want, but it won't change my mind, I'll feel the same about you."

And of course there are those who keep their private lives to themselves.  A friend of mine is married and between the two of them, only she had a facebook account.  Her updates are often hilarious, giving an insider glimpse of the industry she works in and she rarely posts actual updates about her husband.   However, on the times that she does, one can easily see the honesty and affection they contain.  No pomp and overly dressed statements that try to make the relationship sound more fantastic than it really is.  Just an honest statement of how well things are between them.

There will always be them liars out there.
Or worse.

Ultimately, people who embrace the idea of having a virtual presence in a social network tend to seek an outlet to share openly things they appreciate and celebrate.  And what these things are can give another a good glimpse of what to expect of the person who wrote those updates.   While it ain't a precise science, I think it wouldn't take a special degree in anything to discern what kind of a guy one would have to be to post affectionate messages aimed anonymously to someone as status messages, when the guy's said partner is clearly someone who supposedly doesn't go online.  Or what to expect from a date with someone whose profile picture still shows him wearing the favorite shirt his ex gave him.   

Sometimes, deny what one wilt, the updates reveal the details indeed.
So if you have a facebook account, well, maybe you ought to take a step back and look at how your updates normally sound.  That may give you a better idea on why some people know you better than you think!

Count me OUT!

It is National Coming Out Day.

I am proud to be Out.

Never be afraid to be yourself.

Once again, I thank my partner Rocky Sunico for giving me the support and courage to finally take this step forward.  Being able to truly celebrate and be myself is a joy every one deserves to have.

Go 8-bit Happiness!!!

Got a load of stuff in mind for this blog.  Frankly, I'm happy as a katamari to see how there actually has been an increase in the number of readers I have in this blog.  Google Analytics reveals very interesting search key words that have lead people here, as well as which other sites have been instrumental in helping me gain more hits.  

Among the things I have in mind:

1) A short post I guess on what lead to me creating this blog in the first place

2) More Geekwood posts.  I have to make sure I widen the scope.  Comics should include manga, European comics, and possibly even local komiks.  Maybe more entries from video games, roleplaying games, and even books.

3) More Quickie Fiction.   As well as a post on the origins of Quickie Fiction stories.  Here's a little known fact:  They are not purely fictional stories.

4) Maybe even start a gay-centric online comic.  I've been wanting to do one years back, even before Diliman first found its home online.  But as always, performance anxiety gets to me.  But as Carlo Vergara of ZsaZsa Zaturnnah always tells me, "Don't be afraid.  Just do it.  Gawa lang ng gawa! (Just keep making comics!)"

But yeah, coming out was definitely a highlight in my life this year.  From actually doing it, to writing about it as part of an online event, I can only hope my own experience will help inspire someone else to do the same.  There truly is a joy in being able to proudly be who you are and stop living in fear.

Again, Happy Coming Out day everyone!

Coming out and its many layers

I used to be content that only my friends knew.

I wasn't your stereotypical son, though.  In the early years, my parents saw me as the strange and irritating child who loved to be loud and act crazy.  I always made faces in family pictures.  I always indulged in horror movies while the rest of the family found them disturbing.  I hated sports.  Though I was active in running, then later tennis, and even much later, swimming, I was the kid who could score a three-point shot while running around the basketball court screaming, "I HATE THIS GAME!"

Yep, stepping out of the closet required image here. 

And I loved Halloween.

Every year I'd host these huge parties, dressing up the separate house where we used to hold the parties with artwork and decor that I'd come up with through the creative use of newspapers, latex paint, crepe paper and  foil.  My Halloween parties were legendary (at least among my friends) and so were my costumes.  From Freddy Kreuger to Giger's Alien, I dressed up in many disturbing costumes and usually even had my own tiny act to accompany it.

My first crush was a girl.  She had the sweetest smile and the deepest blue eyes.  I met her in Bukidnon and I found myself wondering if I'd ever see her again.

But the first person I fell in love with was my best friend.  He and I used to hang out nightly either at the nearby alleyway or at the village park, to stare at the stars, to smoke cigarettes, and to talk about life.  We would talk about our hopes, dreams and fears and we would only stop talking when we felt the dawn creeping close.

My high school years were horrible.  I was starting to realize my sexuality then, after a horrifying moment in gym class when a boner sprung out unexpectedly on me while the rest of my classmates were getting dressed to take a swim.  I locked myself in a dressing chamber and prayed for it to fade away.  The years to follow were filled with me being insulting and cruel to the evidently gay classmates we had.  It wasn't because I was envious of their freedom, as many writers would try to claim.  For me, it was because I could not stomach I was "one of them."

I tried to kill myself a few times after.  Being from a religious family, I didn't want this horrible secret to leak out and taint the family name.   It took three attempts to lash myself, and three "coincidences" happening to stop me for me to wake up to the truth that I wasn't meant to do that.  The last one had a classmate calling me out of nowhere at 3a.m. to tell me he had a dream demanding I needed his help.  That classmate saved my life and even now, I doubt he remembers it ever happened.

Eventually, I told my best friend.  One night on the way home from our usual talks, I threw out the question, "What would you do if I was gay?"  He laughed at the question and though it was absurd.  Before he headed home, I threw out a, "By the way, that question earlier?  I am."  And didn't hear from him for the next day.   The following day, however, he showed up and we were just as we always were.  He told me, "I realized you were still you.  So it shouldn't be a problem."

We're still friends.  He's married and with kids.  But we aren't as much in touch as before anymore.

In college, it was easier to find others to talk to about myself.   But it was harder to make sense of things.  Unlike many who abuse the term, I was an honest-to-goodness bisexual who loved and passionately made love to people, regardless if they were men or women.  In college, there were the loud gays and the quiet secretive ones.  I decided I was more like the quiet ones.

Friends new.  Teachers new.  A fellow student even had me in a documentary (which I believe is still in DLSU's archives) on me talking about threesome relationships and why mine worked (for only 9 months though, after which all the lies were revealed and I had to start over).  But family, no they never knew.

I first came out to my brother.   One night he dragged me out with him to a fastfood chain to talk to me about something that was greatly worrying him.  As it turned out, he and his girlfriend were getting serious and he wasn't sure how to break the news to our parents.  I told him, "You have it easy.  Trust me.  Guess what my problem is?"  And when I told him, he agreed.  I was gonna have it tough.

A few years later, I came out to my mother's eldest brother.  He was in the theater industry and was for certain much more open-minded about these things.  He consoled me and congratulated me on my bravery and admitted that my mom would probably find it hard to just accept things.  "Give it time," he reminded me, "But tell her when you are sure it is time."

"Huli ka!"

During all these passing years, I had relationships.  Guys.  Girls.  My parents knew all my girlfriends.  Some they loved.  Others they hated.  My parents met all my boyfriends.  They were all my "new bestfriends" in their eyes.  Deep down I suspected they already knew.  There was that NewYorker skirt my mom gave me one Christmas supposedly, "In case you needed a skirt for a theater play."   There were the gay porn magazines I once found suddenly neatly arranged (by date!) in their hiding place.  There was also that time I was having sex and left the phone off the cradle, only to have my dad buzz my room asking me to put it down.  Oh and there was that one time I was giving someone head when someone tapped at my window.  But I guess it was safe to say they didn't see anything. Hear though, I feared they had.  The guy was moaning pretty loud.

Yep, not all bisexuals are just guys afraid to admit they're gay.

My girlfriends all knew I was bisexual.  I always told them this fact before things got serious.  All admitted they were okay with it, but later would admit it wasn't the easiest thing to be okay with.  Many friends still feel I let "the right one go".  Personally, I think regardless of how things went, me and they all left with something new learned in their hearts and minds.

I had gotten so used to living between words and hiding relationships between definitions that I didn't think I'd ever need to come out.  So what if they always thought I had a best friend over?  So what if they never knew I loved him more than I thought I could ever love anyone else?

Then he came.  How the relationship started is an epic tale in itself - and yes it involves Transformers, dragons, songs, wavelengths, and tears, but that's a story for another day.  What it did bring was a sudden desire once again to be recognized.   To have our relationship recognized.   To be proudly able to say, "I am with him."

It took me a year to get ready.  It took me a year to weigh the odds:  Would I be thrown out of the house?  Can I survive without my parents being part of my life?  Am I really ready to do this?  Within that year, I took steps that prepared me for the final leap.  My partner and I marched on Gay Pride (which so many ignore and instead focus solely on the White Party) and I felt the anger and sadness for the people who were there to tell me I was evil and should not exist.  I heard the protesters rage about how I was bringing the end of the world.  I realized I needed to speak up.  I wanted to show we weren't the horrors they all thought.  I found strength in what my partner Rocky told me:  "Coming out is always a personal choice."  Part of me knew he was instrumental in this resurgence of wanting to be recognized, but he was right.  If I were to come out, it had to be because I wanted to.  Not because I was doing it for him.   Not because I had to.

And I realized, yes I wanted to.

Given all the cons of coming out, the pain and the possibilities of being disowned, I realized I wanted to be recognized as me.  I wanted to be honest about who I was.  I didn't want to be hidden between the lines anymore.  At least not to my parents.  Every year, my birthday was a day I'd get depressed seeing it as another year my parents did not know their own son.

I wanted them to know me.

And so I did.  One night, I told my parents I needed to talk to them.  April 21st.  It was the point of no return.    And finally, when we spoke, it was a moment I will always remember.  There were tears.  There were painful moments.  But there was also an unmistakable aura of love and strength.  My parents were finding it hard to accept, and much to my surprise never thought I was gay.  I didn't want to clarify that I was bisexual at first to make it easier for them, but when they asked about my girlfriends it didn't feel right for them to think they were all just foils to hide the truth.  But I came out, and in the end, they admitted that nothing will ever change the fact they love me and want me to be happy.

Now my parents know the whole story.

Breaking out at last!

They know about the fact I am living a happily geeky gay life with my partner and while they admit they aren't ready to see him yet or have me too openly talking about him, I feel overjoyed to know they know my life and  not just the lie I used to keep surrounding them.

They asked me to give them time, and I realize I at least will give them that.  I have yet to proclaim myself to the rest of the family that I am gay, but then again I don't really see the need to.  After all, I'm not hiding.  My blog and facebook profile openly speaks of my relationship and status.  My life openly reflects my lifestyle.   I have had some net savvy extended family members contact me and offer words of support.  But I've also had others who haven't heard the "chismis" and are still left in the dark.  My Lola recently asked me if I was still single.  I replied, "Tell you more about it next time Lola.  Best siguro ask my Mom.  But I want you to know I am very very happy and very very well cared for."

The Many Layers of Inception.
Pwedeng analogy to the many layers of the closet!

I like this feeling of being honest with myself and to others.
I understand that coming out has its layers.  Sometimes you can't quite come out completely in one go.  Some have the choice stripped from them.  Others choose to limit the circle of knowledge to what's convenient or comfortable for them.  But ultimately, coming out empowers.  And is a personal reminder to yourself that yes you can be who you are and not be afraid.

My name is Tobie Abad and I am proud to say I've come out.
I am proudly living with my partner, Rocky, and you can read about his coming out story here.
I hope others in time find the right moment for them to choose to do the same.
There will always be excuses and reasons not to.
But the choice to do so will always be yours unless you wait for the time it will be taken from you.

Goodbye Closet.

I am finally out to my parents.  There will definitely be a blog post on that soon.

But for now, I will just relish the joy and happiness.

Thank you every one for your support.

Nearing the end of one era, and the beginning of another.

It begins.

I approached my dad today and told him, "Dad, is the family meeting happening today?"

Supposedly, the family is meeting to talk to my sister who has a few career changes in mind.  My parents want to talk to her about possibly making the most of this transition which in more common speak means finding a way to get her to live her life closer to how they want it to be.  Last week, I had mapped out that this week would be the week I was to come out to my parents.

Many years ago, back when dates were still appended with a 90 something, I came out to my brother on a night he was sharing with me a problem he was foreseeing.  Back then, he felt the world was ending with his problem.  But when I came out to him, he looked at me and said, "Yikes, yours IS going to be much harder."

Earlier this year, I came out to my sister.  She looked at me funny and finally admitted, "I actually knew before you told me."  When I asked why, it turns out a gay friend of mine whom she has worked with in the past accidentally blurted it out to her one evening.  He  was so happy to have met my sister and greeted her with a, "It is so cool that you are okay with your brother being-" "Being what?" she asked and that's when he realized he had outed me.  He made her swear never to admit he broke the news out to her too soon.  But clearly, family bonds are tougher than friendships.

Which makes today something I am in many ways worried about.  In my earlier entry, I spoke about how I might have to actually step from one closet into another just to help my parents accept things better.   I am starting to wonder, however, if that would truly be a better thing to do.  Coming out is an act of honesty.  An act of gaining strength in being finally true to oneself, even at the risk of emotional, and in some cases even physical, pain.   Would lying in the act of coming out just cheapen the act itself?

I was juggling the option of coming out for quite some time now.

After being in numerous relationships with both guys and girls in my life, I had in many ways seemingly perfected the "we're just friends" projection to the extent that I am certain that while there might have been doubts about me being straight before, such doubts were quickly quelled by close-minded logic.  I was into arts and theater and film, which for many parents is a warning sign in itself.  However, I was not into musicals as much as most were.  I was more into horror films than love stories.  And when it came to artwork, many found my stuff macabre and disturbing.   I wasn't effeminate in action or speech, but I did have a softness in how I carried myself.  I didn't have thoughts or cares for basketball or football and wrestling bored me.  I was more fascinated with swords and sorcery and dice and spaceships.

In many ways, I was a geek more than gay, and for my parents being a geek was the "answer" to why I probably didn't seem man enough.

But now, nearing my thirty third birthday, I realize I want to be honest at last.  For many years I dreaded birthdays because they always made me depressed.  They always made me think, "There goes another year my parents don't know their own son."  The idea of living another year lying to them was no longer something I could find acceptable.  And this was more so because in the last few months, I have found the one person who really gets me and understands me and accepts me for who I am.  I have found the person who makes love more than a word, and makes cliches more than a literary tool.  And unlike me, he has been proudly out and open about his sexuality.  He has been keeping my identity anonymous out of respect for the fact I was still in the closet.

It was an odd closet too.  

Odd considering everyone else in the world save for anyone directly associated to my parents and my parents themselves were the only ones who didn't know me as me.  To friends, co-workers, clients and new strangers I meet, I am out and proud.  I am the boyfriend of my partner.  I am the bisexual one in the group.  We proudly walk around the mall with our hands held together, or our bodies hugged close.  We would kiss when we felt the urge to.  We would talk about anything we wanted to.  There was no need to censor ourselves.  No need to hide.

So now, this strange closet has outlived its purpose.  It is time to break the doors open, and free the truth within.  Time to let the piggies inside that loves a wonderful handsome and intelligent Egg be free to oink out loud, "I'm here!  And yes, I ain't gonna hide again."

Am I scared shitless?

Yes.

I'm more scared about the revelation affecting my parents health more than anything.  While the pain of being disowned is terrible indeed, I feel that knowing my words might cause actual physical anguish scares me.  I would not want to be someone who sends his parents to the hospital when he tries to finally be himself.

But the fear is no different than the fear I know they too will have to face after this.  Once they know, they will fear others knowing what they know.  And only by showing them others knowing isn't as bad as they think it is will that fear begin to alleviate.   Courage is needed to come out.  Courage will be needed after as well.

Coming out feels to me like a race that I have been on for many many years.  There have been many false starts, especially back when I would try to get my parents to ask the question.  Deep down I always felt that if they asked, that meant they were ready to hear the answer.  But in the last few months, even after clearly speaking about how my boyfriend and I were looking for a place to live in, as well as how we were considering finding something rent-to-own, and the ultimate hint being when I told them I wasn't hoping to get back together with an ex girlfriend because I found the person who completes me (they strangely never asked who it was or if they could meet "her") I began to realize they knew the hints and picked up the clues but intentionally chose not to ask.    I began to consider that maybe just maybe they weren't asking because they thought I wasn't ready to say it.  Maybe they were waiting for me.

So, this is it.  I began the countdown to the end.
The family is meeting tonight to talk to my sister.  I realized it was the best time to share something else the family had to talk about.

I approached my dad today and told him, "Dad, is the family meeting happening today?"
My dad answered, "Yes.  It should.  Everyone was supposed to be here at four, but its just you so far."
I told him, "Good,  I'll want to discuss to you all something as well."
My Dad seemed curious.  He asked, "About what?"
I smiled and told him, "Later... when everyone is here."
My Dad pressed on, "About what?"
I told him, "About me."

Here's hoping it actually ends better than we've all heard coming out stories go.

Tell you more soon.

Here's hoping the finish line is a joyous celebration.

From One Closet to Another

Strange but true, I am starting to realize I might have to lie even when I actually finally come out to my parents.

You see, I am and have always been and shall always continue to be bisexual.  I find both men and women attractive.  I have had long term relationships with either.  I have considered being in a lifetime relationship with either.  To be more brutally frank (at the risk of being rude) I like cock as much as I love pussy.

And I am starting to realize when the time finally comes when I get to come out to my parents, I will have to lie to them and say I am simply, "gay."

Don't get me wrong, though.  I am gay.  I am gay cause gay does, for me, mean a person who is not straight.  Gay is  a person who does get attracted to, and would be willing to have a long term relationship with someone of the same sex.

So yes, I am gay.

Too.

Cause I also am, using that narrow definition "straight."
Cause straight is a person who gets attracted to the opposite sex, and would be willing to have a long term relationship with one.

So yes, I am straight.

Too.

If one were to be more honest, however.  Both implies a "but not with" clause that would then force me to embrace a more honest but grossly misused and abused term, "bisexual."  It is a sad but true fact that most of the time, people who call themselves bisexual are either:  too afraid to admit they are gay, just confused and still experimenting both sides, or simple misunderstanding the term to mean being masculine and gay.

But it isn't.  

A bisexual is someone who gets attracted to either sex, and would be willing to have a long term relationship with either sex as well.  Or in my case, someone who doesn't really care what the sex of the person is -- if I like the person, then I do.  Dipping in, being dipped into, or doing both at the same time are all just additional perks and ways to manifest your love for the person further.

I am bisexual.

But yes, sadly, come the day I come out I will have to lie.  On the day I finally see that my parents are ready (and healthy enough) to hear the truth, I will stand up before them and tell them, "Mom.  Dad.  I need you to know your son.   I am gay."  And on this day when I face the music and threat of being disowned, and hopefully not risk their health and mental stability in the same process, I will have to hurt them with this much more acceptable lie.

Much more acceptable?

Why?

Because if I were to tell them I what I am really - if I were to admit to them I am bisexual - then they would never ever accept the fact that I have chosen a man to become my partner for life.  They would always (and rightly have the idea) that I can still someday end up with a woman.  It isn't a wrong thing to think, after all, strictly speaking as definitions go, I can end up with a man or a woman.  But it would not be something I think healthy for them to live with for the rest of their lives.

I can't leave them holding on to a real, though extremely unlikely, hope.

To tell them I am just gay will still, yes, have them wish I could choose a woman still.  Stories about of the many parents who know of their gay sons or daughters and secretly (or in some cases, still openly) nurse the idea that their non-straight child will "break from the phase" or miraculously fall in love with the "right" gender.  Deep down, no matter how they hope however, such parents know they are lying to themselves and merely in denial of what their child has admitted themselves to be.

But to actually know and understand the child CAN still choose the gender they desire the child to have... that would be far more torturous.

No, I will have to lie to them.
I will have to let them believe I could never love women.
I will have to become a closeted bisexual, who will come out to them as gay, after years of being in the closet and letting them continue to believe I am straight.

It is the only way to make it easier for them to accept that I have found who I want to spend the rest of my life with, and he's not going to be someone they can ask me to replace.

Bisexual Pride will have to wait.