I Am What I Am.

As I finished my last post in English, I felt it was not good enough, I mean, it needs more content. So here is Who Do You Think You Are? Part 2.

I started writing this on February the 23rd, which is the anniversary of my sister’s death, she was murdered, and we still don’t know how or by who. This event made me rethink a lot of things and as I was trying to go through the day I couldn’t help but wonder, how do those circumstances affect us all? Why do we have to pretend? Isn’t life too short to be living it in disguise?

Well, the first think that bothered me was how people expected me to react and behave after her death. They seemed to know better what I was supposed to do, like how long I should mourn her, or how bad I should look, or even if I had to move on at this moment and not before or after. All this, considering I am only the big brother, because for my parents it was all different. For them it must have been terrible but as a sibling, I had to forget and continue with my life way faster than the rest. This whether they even considered I had the right to be upset about it.

So for five years now, I’ve had to pretend to be happy or sad according to their expectations because if not they would «worry». Let me tell you one thing, no one has been through what I have, for my experiences are only mine. No one can know how I feel inside and when it is healthy or not, or how long it will take me to heal. Instead of trying to project on me whatever they think I should do, they should just be by my side and support me.

Another thing I missed to write about last time is the Batman complex we gays have. Let me elaborate, I called it like that but it could be whatever superhero you want. As I grew up, I learned how to conceal some parts of my life and pretend something totally different. Some times I was successful others I failed. One of those were me being interested in other boys. When I met them I had to tell stories about it. It was like having a second life, one where you have a mask and the one you can show yourself but without acknowledging your other identity. Like Batman.

This is something we had to create in order to survive. Basically because we already were persecuted as kids by bullies and it was a way of escaping their radar. I had some friends that ended up admitting they had fake girlfriends for that reason. They used to show one side of themselves to society and the hidden one was just for the close people. It was a survival trick.

I told that story in the Africa Trilogy (Soñé Con África), when I was a teenager I had an agreement with my best friend. She had a boyfriend in Canada and she was in another high school, so when we would be invited to the same party, she would be my dance partner. In that time it meant we had something, since you wouldn’t dance slow music with someone unless that person was your love interest. It worked and people talked and gossiped. It allowed me to enter the «normal people group», not only was I gay, but I also was the first in class, the geek. I was lucky. She was one of the first people I told who I was.

Still the first one was my other best friend, a boy this time. He had no friends and was always labelled as weird, but for other reasons as me. He is a year older than me so it was odd by then we got along. We used to spend Saturday afternoons together, cruising the gardens and facilities of the hotel, and I mean it with the innocent meaning of it. We would chat and imagine how our lifes would be, what would happen if a client would hit on us. It felt safe and natural. It was a place like home. We were free to be ourselves. So when that summer I met someone and I had some affair with him, I was 16, and o told him, it felt right. I could tell him who I was without being judged. He found it so interesting and exciting. I was very happy. But unfortunately he had to leave a couple of months later. I saw him one more time and never again.

24 years have passed, and I still struggle to find people and circumstances that allow me to drop my mask. Whether it is Batman’s or Spiderman’s, we always, I always have one. After this pandemic you may understand how annoying and suffocating wearing masks can be. I am 40, I should be able to breathe. Well I can’t. Unfortunately our society is not as advanced as we would like it to be. I have been struggling with it but honestly I find it easier now than when I was 16.

Job interviews are also a place when you need to hide some parts of yourself. I don’t say you have to lie but you can’t tell the truth. Although sometimes it would be preferable to do it so it spares you more suffering in the future. I had to pretend to be straight in some of the jobs I had, not only they would not have understand it, but I would have been in trouble. I learned it the hard way. I was bullied in my workplace until I quited it. They had the nerve to pretend they didn’t know what was wrong with me. My colleague would not speak to me during days, my boss would make me do the inventories after 16:30 considering we finished work by 5, and the guys from the warehouse would make jokes about it. Then when I left they told me I was the only one to stand against the boss. Too bad they didn’t help.

Being gay means you will have to pretend at some point to avoid confrontation and even getting hit by people that don’t understand. I wish I could say things have changed since I was a teenager, they have, but not enough. The worse is that you have to pretend within your own LGTBQ+ community. Most of them will judge and bash you if you don’t meet their expectations or what they consider «has to be» correct.

I am not only talking about the looks, which, of course, are the first thing they will check. You must have to correct haircut, the appropriate facial hair, and body hair, and the tone. If you don’t go to the gym and have what they consider an healthy life you are doomed. Of course, going out and getting hammered is part of that. You must know about the latest drugs and trends. From this, except the physical part that you cannot fake, the rest you will have to pretend. You will be funny and shallow, but not too much, otherwise you will be labelled as a slut and no one wants that. Truth is, even if you like having fun and are open minded about sex, they will make you feel bad about it, so you don’t tell anything.

This goes to the extend of having guys that will tell you they are like saints, while they aren’t, and you know it. I have met people like that. They would swear they are not interested in that kind of fun and that they are what they would call nice sane people, whilst I met them being spit roasted… But hey! That was back then, now they have changed into something more politically correct, and dull. Unfortunately many gay guys I know have to play the decent role, which I find sad, since they would probably be way more interesting and fun if they were truly themselves.

When I went through my twenties I learned it the hard way. I had to hide that part of me, I couldn’t say if I had been to that place or to that other one, because I would be stamped a scarlet letter on my chest. The gossip would run and the other would make sure everyone would know me as a slut. I learned my lesson and pretended to be someone else. When I moved to France in my thirties, I was careful with that. Your reputation is all that matters and you have to create the good one.

In France I went to therapy, I learned to be me and to be proud of myself, I faced all those sides I used to hide and the ones I pretended to be. It helped me in many ways unexpected and one of them is to trust myself and be me. It is not easy, as I have written earlier, sometimes you have to be someone you are not but your life doesn’t have to be like that. You can’t please everyone, perfection doesn’t exist. You will always find something that people don’t like from you, but that is OK. Honestly, for every guy that has said something they dislike from me, five others have liked it. Or even more. Mathematics don’t fail.