Category Archives: gay

Feb6

Gay Insults

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Gay Insults

Several weeks after my divorce, I sat with my mother as she was buttering her breakfast toast, and we were rehashing the events of the weeks previous. And, just as casually as she could be, she said, “You know, I always thought he was gay.” I recounted this story very early on in the life of the blog, but it seems to come up again and again.

Turns out my mother wasn’t the only one. A good chunk of my friends said after the divorce that there was no doubt in their minds that his effeminate gestures; over-the-top cheering at sports that frightened my father half to death; his approach to men versus women and his uber-conservative nature was just the sign of a guy trying to prove to everyone, “No really, I’m not gay!” Even my gay uncle and several gay friends thought my ex was gay. And this was without the full details of not only our nonexistent sex life and knowing that, six weeks after I left, he would find a new wife after an intense search through my female friends.

Shortly after the separation, I told all of the information above to AD during a phone conversation while he was back on the East Coast. Being a fellow divorcee, he shrugged it off.

“When my wife left, everyone thought I was gay,” he said. I was stumped – AD was as masculine as they came. He definitely liked the ladies and the ladies loved him. I began exploring this issue, and it turns out that AD wasn’t the only one – several of my female friends that either went through divorce or were going through one said that they were told by their friends that they always thought their respective exes were gay as well, but they knew it wasn’t the case.

Although anyone who’s met my ex could tell you his sexuality is definitely in question, something bothered me about how calling the men in divorce situations gay. Perhaps it’s because I have always been sensitive to gay issues since I was younger and had to deal with my friend’s coming out in the conservative town we grew up in. Maybe it’s because I think the idea of using “gay” or the other word (I refuse to write it, I find it so disgusting) as derogatory makes me sick. Or by chance it’s because I love drag queens. I don’t think that being gay makes you any less of a person. It just makes you different. And that, for me, is great.

So why do people throw that towards men in the situation of divorce? Why are we so easy to slander men as being less of men because their wedded life didn’t turn into happily ever? Although there is a lot of blame pushed at women for leaving their marriages, I feel that men can sometimes be made into being less than for having their wives leave, as if they weren’t man enough for that woman.

The traditional gender norms of the past are still rather difficult to shake off, and the past has always depicted that if a man is not enough of a man, he has to not like women. I don’t know how not liking women makes you any less of a man, but I don’t have that equipment. When I left, I don’t think anyone threw out the fact that I was a lesbian, so therefore I wasn’t woman enough for my marriage. But that isn’t attached to the female gender as often, not the way it is to men.

I am a proud feminist, in that I believe in gender equality on both sides. I am proud to be a woman, but I don’t mean to demean men. I want them to join my cause for equal rights on my side, and I feel that they have a right to not be treated badly, particularly in the debate about divorce. It’s a hard enough thing to go through without rumors. So let’s just put this one to bed.

Jan28

Inspiration: Drag Queen

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Inspiration: Drag Queen

Early in this blog, I posted an episode of RuPaul’s Drag U, a show about women going through life transformations on LogoTV. Since my divorce, I have fallen in love with drag queens and think the world of them. I love Drag Race (starting tonight on Logo at 9/8 C!) and RuPaul is a goddess of epic proportions.

Drag queens don’t have it easy. It’s hard enough to be yourself in this world when everyone seems to rebel against different, so imagine how hard it must be to challenge gender conventions. Although people have been cross-dressing for years, nay centuries, it’s still difficult to defy gender norms, no matter how old you are. (Witness  Sarah Tuttle-Singer, who had to deal with parents who were questioning her son’s choice to wear a dress to preschool in Israel.)

They defy social norms, standing higher than I’ll ever be in crazy heels, wear an insane amount of makeup and an amount of sequins that make me, who has a tendency towards sparkly things, jealous as all hell. I joke that I have an inner gay man, and that inner gay man wants to hang out with the drag queens, not to mention go shoe shopping with them.

My gay uncle who lives in WeHo (read: West Hollywood, the gay district of Los Angeles) thinks I’m nuts, no matter how many times he has been to the Halloween Carnival. My dad thinks it’s a phase that I’ll emerge from. But I’m not sure I will ever outgrow my love for RuPaul, the campiness and all her girls. I am glued to my computer to watch Drag Race whenever it’s on, and I love Drag U as well. They all make being catty more fun than I could possibly ever imagine.

So why this love of drag queens? Why would I idolize women who aren’t really women? I think I need to bring in my two favorite drag queens, among the many (Shangela is also a fave and deserves a shout-out, too), for this example: Sharon Needles and the chunky yet funky Latrice Royale. Both were on season four of Drag Race – one the winner, and the other Miss Congeniality. And both are rebels in the drag queen world in their own right.

Sharon Needles does a spooky form of drag, more akin to queen of the damned versus queen of WeHo. Latrice is a plus-sized queen – something, as anyone who watches Drag Race knows, is a difficult position to be in because there are certain limitations that come with it. They are not only in a difficult position because they dress in drag, but they are staying true to who they are and never letting anyone get them down.

And yet my heart sings whenever I read the words, “Large and in charge, chunky yet funky Latrice Royale!” When I see Sharon, despite her ghoulish appearance, I smile. And almost all the drag queens make me laugh and grin on a regular basis.

There is a struggle in them, too, in all the beautiful queens I see. They are striving to be who they are. No matter how far we have come in our society, there is still that stigma against being gay, against being who you are. I have watched it destroy people. It is possibly one of the reasons why my gay uncle who I love with my whole heart is an alcoholic: because who couldn’t be who he is openly for so long. A may have been forced into the closet, as he’s from a religious family. Several of my closest friends are gay, and I have watched them struggle with their identities. And although our fights are different, those friends have never let me down in my determination to be who I am during this divorce. In turn, I won’t back down from them.

Drag queens are laying themselves out on the line for the same reason I do on La Divorcee Vita: To educate, to express, to thrill and to entertain. They stand tall and they are not afraid of anyone, and don’t care what others think of them. Beautiful, fearless, fabulous, loud and shining brighter than any star in the galaxy – that’s what every divorcee longs to be. They inspire everyone to be the best they can be and not be afraid of any choice that you make, because everything you do leads you to your true self.

Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to go off to a corner in order to dance around and sing “Jesus is a biscuit.” If you’ll excuse me…

Dec14

Let’s Hear it For the Boys! Boy 18: Giggles (NSFW)

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Let’s Hear it For the Boys! Boy 18: Giggles (NSFW)

Giggles was not the wisest move on my part. The red flags were there from the start. But he, along with a new guy, did make me realize something important.

BOY 18: Giggles

HEIGHT: 6’0

AGE: 29

LOCATION: Hollywood, CA

LOOKS: Large, beard, reminds you of Chris from season four of “Project Runway”

PROFESSION: Grad student/professor

Giggles contacted me off the dating site, and I ran him through the usual screening method: IM first, text next, then calling. He seemed normal enough, explaining that he had broken up from a long-term relationship and hadn’t had sex for a while. It wasn’t that he was looking for a one-night stand, but something steady, like a friends with benefits. I wasn’t sure I was at a point for that anymore, but it couldn’t hurt to keep talking.

However, a hiccup came in the road when he called me. I answered the phone.

“Hello?” I asked.

“HEYYYYY!!!” It was a tone that came out so feminine and out there that I couldn’t believe it. I have crappy gaydar, but all I could think was, Dude, who is this guy kidding?

We talked, and when we talked, it was not a conversation so much as me having a monologue. He listened and giggled… a lot. It was a girly-style giggle. It was strange. When he asked me out, I kept trying to put him off. I wasn’t really interested, knew that it wouldn’t go anywhere and I wasn’t terribly sure. But he kept pursuing me, asking me to his place at late hours. I kept telling him if he wanted to see me, he had to meet me somewhere public, and at a reasonable hour.

Eventually, he asked me out for dinner on a Sunday night. I agreed, but was hesitant. Why was I going out with him? But I thought to myself that maybe I misjudged him.

That same day, I started talking to a guy off the dating site who will be referred to as Kinky Bastard (that’s a term of endearment, by the way — and his story begins next week). We seemed to click via the IM and the text, and on the way to my date, I was talking to him on the phone. It was amazing conversation, completely honest and real. It was so good that I didn’t want it to end, and dreaded getting out of my car to see Giggles.

But I walked into the restaurant, and there Giggles was. Holy cow… I didn’t realize how huge he was going to be. I’m no lightweight, but he was twice my size. We hugged, but all I could think in those first few moments is, Gay guys call guys like Giggles “grizzly bears.”

I talked, he listened and giggled his way through. I was enjoying myself eating delicious Lebanese food, but I kept thinking about Kinky Bastard’s phone conversation in the car, where it was back and forth bantering and lots of fun and flirtation. There was a lot of potential there for a connection. And here was Giggles, where the conversation was nice, but it was one-sided. Uh… how did I get here?

After dinner, Giggles invited me back to his place a couple of blocks from the restaurant. Reluctantly, I agreed. I didn’t want to just go straight home after the date, and he was nice company. He lived in a run-down neighborhood, and although my car is not shiny and new, I was terrified I would be missing tires afterwards.

I went inside his place, where we settled on his tiny couch (he took up most of it) and we started kissing. A part of me was asking what I was doing. I didn’t want to, but I was horny and I felt for the guy. I decided to reason with myself that he was nice enough, it was just a public service. The part of me that was questioning didn’t buy it, though.

I began to start giving him head, moving my body down the bed. But as I was doing it, I stopped for a second. I felt something on my clit, and it wasn’t something I wanted: his toe. This guy was trying to get me off with his toe! Ugh. Top it off with the fact he practically suffocated me by thrusting while I was doing my thing, and this was not something I wanted to repeat.

I finished doing what I was doing, and then his awkward fingers were trying to push my buttons. Eventually, I asked him to use his tongue and he went down, where I proceeded to tell him what I liked. I was happy to find that he got me an orgasm too. It was good, but it was an orgasm that recalled days of my ex going down on me. It was hollow. Sure, it was a nice to feel this way, but what else was I getting out of it, really?

Eventually, I left Giggles’ apartment and headed home. I thought about Kinky Bastard. I could already sense something special there, and we only had one phone conversation. If I wanted something with him, something real and honest, there had to be a major change. I had to stop talking about it and, this time, actually do it.

Sep10

Celebrities and Divorce

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Celebrities and Divorce

If you’re saying celebrity relationships, you’re probably thinking what most people are thinking, and it’s divorce.

Except for a few lucky marriages that have stood the test of time in Tinseltown, Hollywood relationships just don’t last. We ogle over Kim Kardashian’s 72-day marriage and pass judgment over TomKat, Heidi and Seal and others. We like the train wrecks, and watch them regularly. But sometimes I find it strange that people invest in celebrity relationships.

When Amy Poehler and Will Arnett divorced, I was shocked at the number of people who said, “This is so sad. If they can’t make it last, who can?” There were feeds even on how to recover from it. But I feel that’s oversimplifying, and typically the people who invest in other relationships haven’t been through enough of their own.

It’s a twisted spectrum we live on – we see people fail and we revel in their failure, and then sometimes we pity on those who have failed. But as someone who has been down that path, divorce is hard no matter what you do, the circumstances of the marriage or who sympathizes with whom. And no one is immune from it, either, not even if you have a huge mansion in the Hollywood Hills.

Sometimes people get into marriage for the wrong reasons, like making $20 million on endorsements. Some people don’t know what they’re in for, like the Church of Scientology. But in general, or so it would seem, celebrities get married for the very same reasons that we all do: Because we love the other person, we have identified common life goals and values, and feel this is a person that we can make our journey with until the end of our days. I don’t think a single person walks down the aisle and thinks, “Hmm, I can see this working maybe for three years or so, until my career really starts to take off.” Unless you’re the previous mentioned Kardashian.

But with celebrities, it seems to be more of a risk factor. Why, you may ask? My personal theory is the industry. There are power struggles and people often don’t know their place from job to job. In addition, Hollywood people often work insane hours, and when they’re not working they’re often schmoozing to see what they can do to get that next big thing. There’s often not enough time to nourish a relationship and be able to make it work. It can make for a rocky life. Marriage is already uncertain enough as it is.

Some figure it out after a while, and find the keys to make their relationships work. But despite that there are still not enough guarantees in the world that it’s going to last. Marriages sometimes fail, even the ones that we think are absolutely perfect. And no matter how many “‘Til death do us parts,” a couple may say when they renew their wedding vows, that’s just not going to change.

Growing up in Los Angeles, this is sort of my world. We see the great white weddings and then the bitter divorces that come afterwards. Sometimes we see more of the divorce than we do of the wedding, and sometimes it’s the other way around. When it came time for my own divorce, sometimes I felt like hiding out at the Chateau Marmont like Lindsay Lohan. But eventually, it came down to the facts that, in Hollywood and real life, nothing lasts forever.

Celebrity or not, it boils down to this: We all have paths that we need to walk. People join us on that path, and they walk it with us for the long haul. Sometimes they don’t. Sometimes they disappear completely, or sometimes they show up from time to time. Often their little place in our lives changes our paths for the long term, bringing new people onto our paths to continue the journey with us. But no matter where we go and no matter who we become, they are a part of our lives, be it for better or for worse. And nothing changes it, no matter if you’re in fancy Louboutins or a pair of ratty Converse. We all walk the same road and we’re all in the dance.

Jul4

Dear Katie: A message to Katie Holmes during her divorce

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Dear Katie: A message to Katie Holmes during her divorce

It may be the fourth of July, so today should be a salute to freedom. And today, I am thinking of a girl who is still fighting for hers in a very public divorce. Katie Holmes, this message is for you.

Dear Katie,

You wouldn’t know me from a hole in the wall, but I’ve known you a good portion of my life. You were Joey Potter, the girl who all my friends wanted to be – a beautiful young woman who was just one of the guys, yet had all the insecurities and twinges of growing up. I loved your interviews, and I didn’t care what critics said about your acting. I thought you were a very cool person.

I remember when you found your husband and got caught in a media firestorm. I saw your wedding pictures and the birth of your beautiful daughter – we all did. And now we are witnessing your divorce play out in front of our eyes.

Katie, it is so clear, from countless interviews and your now-ex being blindsided by your announcement and you moving to New York, that there is another factor at play. We who have walked in your shoes know the hints when we see them. The fact is that you are facing some sort of abuse – from who we don’t know – and in order to leave your marriage, you had to escape.

I know because I was there.

Mind you, I am not famous like you. But I was attached to my husband. He would tell the world, anyone within earshot how much he loved me. He might as well have been jumping on a couch. There were questions about him – his sexuality, his sincerity, everything – but I didn’t stop. I thought my ex loved me. And because he did, I went through with my marriage. I thought he had the same goals, wants and needs that I did. But it was a smokescreen to get what he wanted, which was someone to put on display for the world.

My marriage ended in the dead of night. On a Friday night in January, I fled with my most precious items from my home, only to return whenever I knew my ex wouldn’t be around. To this day, I am frightened – every time I see a car of the same make and model of his I freak out. Every time a joke comes up that he made I flinch, and I can’t even play songs that he likes.

I think of how angry he got, the things he threw around whenever he didn’t get his way, how dogmatic he was about what he believed in (in his case, it wasn’t Scientology – it was conservative politics, something I didn’t believe in) and how he degraded me as a person. It wasn’t public, but in private he pushed me down and made me feel incompetent. It was only when I realized the danger that I was in, and that I loved myself enough to know that this was wrong, I figured out that I needed to leave.

Katie, I was so afraid. Truly I was. We were known to our world as being together, and now all of a sudden we were apart. Barely anyone knew the truth about what happened. I don’t know how many people now know what he did. People who found out later were furious that I didn’t say anything previous to this point. They even said to me, “If we knew, we would have come and gotten you out.”

Just never forget in this hailstorm that there are people who love you, Katie. I’m sure your family does and will continue to protect you. And your daughter may be angry now – people get angry in situations like this when worlds are upended. It’s common. But just know that in time that she will understand why you did what you did and come to love, respect and admire you for having the courage to do the hard thing.

And Katie, please do not forget that you are not alone. There are thousands upon thousands of us who have walked in your shoes and are trying to be courageous in the face of fear. Our hearts go out to you and your beautiful daughter. It’s going to be crazy difficult at first going through this process, and there might be days where you don’t know what to do next. I suggest listening to music, dancing with your daughter, resting, allowing yourself to cry and doing whatever it takes to get yourself ready so you can fully heal. We stand behind you and love you. Take care of yourself. Just don’t go all wackadoo Hollywood on us. You were so cool because you weren’t like that.

I wish you peace, joy and love, particularly love of yourself. Stay strong, sister – we are behind you.

Love,

Amira Young