Today my colleagues and I went for out second run training for our 5k in April. We’ve been running around St James’s Park; at 2.1km three circuits is enough to keep us ready. It takes me about 10 minutes at a steady measured pace to go around the park; I think we should aim to get to a point where we can do the 5k in about 20 minutes; maybe a shade less.
One of us taking part is a guy a few years younger than me and also gay. He seems to compete with me quite openly to be the official gayer in the group. It’s weird for me, to be challenged in this way. You see, gentle reader, I often have a love/hate fascination for younger gay guys. I tend to find young and pretty guys quite annoying – essentially because I’m not one of them any more. Part of the reason I go for older men I suppose...
I myself am acutely aware of my mortality and, essentially, that – dimly I perceive - I’m not 18 any more. Much more than I should be I think. I’m beginning to feel I’m getting older. More mature; aging disgracefully. And I resent it.
Young gay guys who are out, on the scene, enjoying themselves are doing something I never did. Going for the older gentleman in many ways betrayed my lack of experience. I met a small number of guys about my age, maybe younger, just coming out as I was and without exception they were going for ‘teacher’ types too. We didn’t keep in touch…
I was young and pretty once. Not ever prize-winning looks; but I do feel I’ve entered a world obsessed with youth and beauty riding the absolute last train I could get. And now I’m jogging alongside someone who rather sensibly jumped on board somewhat earlier than I!
Being critical of what I’ve just written I would say (a) I needed – and still need – to take better care of myself and coming out was areal boost to that and (b) I’ve always been a bit insecure of my looks, and going out on a limb – whilst never wrong – wasn’t really helpful.
So is this all a bit shallow? I am concerned, you see, that I’m running out of goes, for the want of a better expression. One of the reasons I threw myself into men, whether it be boyfriend or otherwise, was because I considered I had left myself a very narrow window of opportunity.
I'm not so concerned about my colleague as I am reminded how I do regret coming out so late. But with that comes a recognition I kinda need to grow up to stay young. If I’d been different my life would have been different I honestly wouldn’t want that. I’d still be 32, slightly frumpy and with challenged follicles… but would I have my Fella? My friends? Would I have grabbed these opportunities or let them pass me by in youthful ignorance? Being in my thirties really works for me, so let’s look forward rather than think about what could have been… and let me get my beauty sleep.
2 comments:
Look, I came out when I was 35 and didn't meet my gorgeous McBrad until I was 37 so you're never too old. I look at those young twinks and to be honest, a lot of them have no idea what they're looking for! I am glad that I came out when I did - I had a measure of maturity, was financially stable and was relatively comfortable with myself. I think that my coming out was a lot easier because I was emotionally ready to deal with the angst. You're still young! :-)
I know! Without your example I would have found it far more difficult. And 35 (or 37) isn't old at all; I just sometimes regret not using the time that's passed better. Being confronted by young, out, gay men reminds moe of that sometimes and stirs mixed emotions. You're right of course; I would probably have been just as clueless as them!
Post a Comment