“Are you sure you’re gay?”
At first, upon being introduced to such eyebrow-raising question, I would look at them intently. I look at my curious asker with sincere confusion, still trying my very best to fully digest and understand the question. After a few seconds of the struggle, I find myself blurting out the quite, obvious, and only honest answer, “Yes. I am,”
But nope. They wouldn’t believe me.
They would reciprocate my confusion with a look of sheer disbelief. They would then ask me the second time, this time in a more serious and deep voice as if my answer wasn’t serious and honest enough, and while I, greatly irritated upon being asked twice, would assure them that I am indeed, without reservations and hesitations, gay.
As far as my knowledge can go, I only know one requirement for being gay, that is, you have to be attracted of a person who belongs to the same sex as yours. But these curious peers who still remain doubtful of my sexuality, they believe (as if they know any better about wearing the shoes of a gay man) that in order to call yourself ‘gay’, you need to be funny, you need to walk like this, you need hold your glass like this, and do this and do that as if being gay has this ridiculous checklist you need to fulfill before you can yourself a member of the LGBTQI community.
But that’s not how it is and I for one, know that it should not be anything like that.
To my curious little asker, I’m gay but I’m not a comedian. I get that you have a lot of gay friends whom you like dragging along with you in a mall or in any public place so you could keep yourself entertained but no, I’m no entertainer but I am with pure sincerity, gay. I don’t have the wit nor the huge vocabulary of sarcasm that most gay men carry but that doesn’t and never will, in any way possible, make me straight.
Not all gay men are funny. In fact, we don’t need to be funny to you or to anyone else just so I could be gay. If you’re looking for someone who could crack up jokes and make you laugh, don’t keep on looking for gay men, look for actual professional comedians– or someone who doesn’t have to be gay to actually make you laugh.
Curious little asker, my clothes do not have this magical cord tethered to the reason as to why I’m gay. Here I am, preparing myself to get out of the house when suddenly, as I was about to take my first step out of the door, you tell me, “You look gay,” Yes. You mean gay as in homosexual. Yes. I’m gay. But never will my clothes tell someone this undeniable fact.
The first time you told me this, there was an awkward silence. A very long pause. I haven’t come out to you at that time. I wish I did. So I could tell you, “I’m gay. Very gay. But my black polo shirt and brown shorts don’t make me gay, my attraction to men does,” I didn’t know you assigned a dress code for the gay community. If you did, then too bad. Because not all gay men wear tight polo shirts, shorts or have this certain haircut.
We have come to this point in time where most members of society see gay men with fitting clothes and lesbian women with short haircuts. Nothing else. To not wear or to not have the aforementioned things is, according to them, an abomination to my sexuality.
My curious little asker, I am gay but I don’t want to wear makeup or even do your makeup. It doesn’t mean that you see most gay men as professional makeup artists then I am too. Stop asking me which color would suit your lips or what brand of makeup you should use because I will never tell you an answer, simply because – I. Don’t. Know.
Remember my curious little friend, the world has over 7.4 billion people. A fraction of this huge populace is gay. What you’re seeing right now, the gay men on the streets, on social media, on your school – anywhere, is just a feeble image of your weak, unimaginative vision. What you’re seeing is a tiny peapod in an obviously titanic garden.
One should never take one single glance at a member of a community and immediately rule out that the whole group has the same characteristics. You say that you support and understand the LGBTQI community? Then stop imposing stereotypes.
Stop saying that all gay men are funny beings. Stop saying that we’re the ones you should run to and ask for help when you’re torn between lemon yellow or yellow ochre for the walls of your living room. Stop asking that we’re the ones you should ask for fashion advice. Stop saying that all gay men enjoy the arts and don’t like to play sports because some of us can’t stand the sight of a canvas and some of us actually enjoy playing football.
Please, for everyone’s sake, stop making a ridiculous list of things all gay men should do since your mind that’s programmed on hasty generalizations says that’s what we’re supposed to do “naturally” because, my dear curious little asker, I’m gay — but I am not one to fulfill your magical gay checklist.
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