Des and Troy

Youth and beauty… those are the name of the big gay game, no? Well, that and having a great big… zest for life.


Well, I’ve been working on the youth and beauty thing and notwithstanding my inability to turn back the hands of time I think I’m doing OK.

As always, it is through others I seek my validation… and after quite while of dieting and exercising things have started to happen.

Yes gentle reader – it is true. People have begun the rippling gorgeousness of the Cheerful Fairy. I mean – wow. Who would have thought it? Here I am – being complemented on my hard work by other gay men!!!

I guess it first started when we were in the cottage in Herefordshire and the other gay man, apart from me and Fella (he deserves a greater epithet than gay-man#3 to be fair, but needs must), commented on my nice arms. Me! Putting on a gun show, eh?

Since then I’ve had colleagues comment on how much weight I’ve lost, and friends on how buff I’m becoming. Well, my vanity needs little feeding to grow and grow, so I take it all with a pinch of salt but I must admit it is nice in particular to get noticed by other gayers.

I’ve lost about 7 lbs (3kg) but I’ve been doing lots of weights alongside my running and swimming, and I must admit it is a huge motivator to know it’s paying off.

Alright… maybe it’s a bit wrong of me to subscribe even in part to the more superficial aspects of gay life. But, after many years of just not looking after myself as part of my closeted life; and then to get so ill and to lose so much weight that is regained as, basically, lard… I’m quite proud of myself and – frankly – being an introvert the confidence boost is appreciated.

On Wednesday I’m going, alone, to gay networking event in Soho called Village Drinks and I would never DREAM of going there unless I felt in some way I could hold my own.

I’m going to keep working on my figure until I go back to college in October – only a few short weeks to get as much out of myself as possible. After that I will maintain my improvements, but can’t realistically go to the gym six times a week, attend classes, do my homework and work.

Speaking as someone who likes his carbs and it engaged to a world-class chef getting to this stage has not been easy. And the time limits mean I can’t lose too much weight. But the object is not to be a muscle-mary or try and be the twink I never was. It’s to feel good about myself. And to have everyone in Strumpetville feel good about me too!

The Big Day

Aint nothing like a summertime wedding in Strumpetville gentle reader. The big day came and went without a hitch, the weather was perfect and the location divine. For something organised in only four months it was a masterpiece.

Sadly, it was not MY wedding, no. Rather that of my brother-in-law S to his now wife… Mrs S.

Fella and I suspect the whirlwind wedding of Mr and Mrs S was due in part to our impending nuptials (or at least an impending bun in the oven)… but no matter, I wish them all the very best. Off in sunny Paxos for their honeymoon, now.

The wedding itself was at Kew Gardens, which is a place I adore. We had free entrance to the gardens on the day; the ceremony was in Cambridge Cottage while the reception was in the Princess of Wales gardens – a very nice venue indeed.

Some of the most interesting people I met were Fella’s friends, one of whom is Mr S’s boss, a gay couple who have been together about nine years. It was nice to get to know another established – even more established – gay couple outside our current circle (as it were).

The most important part of the day (apart from the nuptials) was that this was for Fella and by extension me a family affair. One of the things I was a little concerned about was meeting all of the family. As a fiancé one is in and not in the family – and as a GAY fiancé, well one’s status is all the more uncertain.

Nevertheless I was, as always, made to feel totally welcome – even posing in the family only pictures. No pressure then… definitely have to make my relationship work, or those photos are ruined!! Actually, it was very nice to be included and to be so accepted by everyone. Even Fella’s 89 year old grandmother! I hope when it comes to our civil partnership (or any other event), my family will be as accepting of him.

Since Fella has been complaining to his friends about not having an engagement ring – he had one prepared when he proposed – so I have decided it’s time to get him on; well, in time for his birthday in September… so plenty more to blog about in due course…

In the meantime Fella’s mother continues well enough. She did rather dwell on her prognosis at the wedding until Fella gently stopped her and suggested it might not be the day for it. In a rather touching gesture Mr and Mrs S asked, as a wedding gift, for people only to donate to a charity for MS sufferers. The plans for our own marriage will need to revolve in part around her, and that in turn means keeping a totally open mind about timing, venue, honeymoon etc…

Well, that is the way it needs to be. Seeing how well it can be done fills me with confidence. And being included and welcomed by the family fills me with great happiness.

Wedding Plans

We've had a bit of bad luck recently, Fella and I. I mean, in the last week, we've been robbed; my laptop completely packed up, taking with it everything from my holiday photos to my CV (I have a shiny new one now though :-) ); part of the bathroom ceiling fell in for reasons best known to itself...

Sadly the worst thing is Fella's mother has been diagnosed with inoperable cancer. She has suffered with MS for a while, and has had problems in that area because of that for a while. So no-one took any notice of the jaundice and the weight loss until it was too late. Liver cancers tend to be inoperable and are peculiar in that chemotherapy doesn't work on them. The treatment is a transplant, but you can't give immuno-suppressants to someone with MS so that's out. Recently a range of wonder-drugs have come on the market that will ensure her liver continues to function and may co-incidentally shrink the tumour. But even under ideal circumstances a primary liver tumour has a less than 20% survival rate after a year.

In Fella's mother's case they are talking two years but knowing this illness I wonder if six to nine months is nearer the mark. Dark I know but Fella and his family are dealing with this in perhaps a very English upper middle-classed way. Putting the best possible gloss on it, changing the subject, and having a nice cup of tea.

What I wanted to post about, gentle reader, was how Fella and I are advancing our wedding plans. Perhaps post a picture of the post-it notes covering the back wall of our second-bedroom cum home-office. Perhaps my tentative day dreams on what to put on my our wedding list.

Instead, our plans are in disarray. I do not complaint, of course; the circumstances cannot be helped. But what we really are looking at is getting wed very quickly, perhaps in the next few weeks - or months.

In the separate-but-equal* world of marriage we have in Strumpetville a civil partnership can be entered into without even being in the same room - one fills in a form, the other fills in his at a time convenient to him (or her of course). No ceremony required though the government has helpfully handed down a "form of words" if we really must. The logistics of the thing would be relatively simple. The issue at hand of course is getting CPd for the right reasons, at the right time. Our reasons for going for May 2013 were simply - where we met, when we met, but after my masters is finished (it was tiresomely short-sighted of love to come during exam season). Both of those options would be sacrificed...

Am I reluctant to hurry into a CP? Yes. Especially because of someone else, regardless of the tragedy. Because a long engagement suited me. Because what happens next when you are married - mortgages and pensions and the like - I'm just not prepared for.

But here we are, in a world or turmoil. Once we have a detailed prognosis and we can be sure whatever we do meets Fella's mother's needs and capabilities, we can make our decision. Still, I do want to make sure it is right for us too and that I think - deciding what is for the best for him will really be hard for Fella.

Pornocracy

Porn. Well, on that front there’s so much to say and so little. I’ve never bought a jazz mag or a blue movie. On the other hand God knows, the internet saw me through some very tough times in the early naughties before I got the balls to come out.

It taught me a thing or two too. Opened my mind as well as my eyes… some people are very open about their pornographic predilections, but not me. Friends at school always boasted of their collection under-the-bed.  Childish snooping found my father’s secret stash too. When Fella and I moved in I was quite surprised by the volume of material he brought with him – gifts apparently. Popular guy.

I am writing this post because it occurred to me quite by chance that the things I have gravitated to when  I have watched porn are quite different to the things I have gravitated to in real life. I won’t go into details… but I realised there was no particular reason, within reason that is, why that should be so.

Pornography is for gay people an important expression of sexuality. I’ve heard it contended that for gay men a health obsession with pornography is quite essential. Sex is after all… what we do.

I wonder if perhaps sex is how we compete. Well, of course we do in one sense – the evolutionary impulses behind our sex drives are not diminished by the accident of our sexuality. But it is more than them there straight people a yardstick by which we measure ourselves. Sex by any other name… perhaps there is an over emphasis on youth and beauty in the gay world. Still, I’ve been going to the gym a lot more since I came out than before. So, for me it isn’t all bad.

In one sense it isn’t a gay thing – it’s a male thing. Without the brake of the female acting to control us, why would we exercise self control?

The answer must be a zen thing or similar. To win the game, get out of it… God, the hours I’d waste trawling through Gaydar or a similar site. The secret is not to take it all so seriously. There’ll always be someone better looking, more promiscuous, kinkier, bigger… you can run the race, but ask yourself: who set out the course? And what is the prize?

Great sex, learning about yourself, meeting amazing people, exploring your desires… all of these things are important elements (or at least, gentle reader, they were to me ; I might be talking bollocks in more than one way here) to growing into a gay man’s gay identity. But when they’ve helped you become a well rounded tired-but-happy gay man what comes next?

You win the game. You find your Fella. And then you move in together and then… the game begins again. Level 2!

Sit-Rep

Where we at Gentle Reader? All in all, not too bad – for me, at least, and I hope for you too... I’ve lost 7lbs (about 3kg) and am running 5k six days a week to keep on that trajectory (and enjoy the odd glass of wine or three). The rest of the family are all well; Fella’s career development scheme, run by his workplace, is doing wonders for him. The fish has proven indestructible – and she’s grown. Soon we’ll have to get her a new home! And Morag (the car, named after the great aunt of a woman we met in the pub, naturally) has managed to assert her personality without any death or destruction (her oh-so-hilarious tendency to slip into reverse when we’re stopped at a junction notwithstanding) so far.


We’re renewing the lease on our apartment, as we are very happy here. The balcony is blooming, literally, and Fella’s lettuces, pumpkins, and tomatoes are doing well (even though we lost some of our crop to black-fly).

Family and friends – all is well, or as well as can be expected.

That leaves my work. Or job.

Admin assistant; complaint handler; case worker; case manager; project manager; business manager. That’s quite a career, over 15 years. I think I’ve done well, and it pleases me roles have come my way based on my merit instead of some kind of career plan on my part.

Now that’s changing. Not my merits – at least I hope not. Now I need to look forward, and plan my career. Things are tighter now than I’ve ever really known in my adult life; and in addition I have responsibilities what with a fiancé and all...

Committing to a career plan is a little bit like committing to a sexuality; for me anyway. A scary jump I should've done years ago. It isn’t closing doors; it’s identifying the best possible opportunities. So, after a shade over a year in my current role, I’ve decided what I want to ‘do’ – ultimately I want to be a chief of staff or equivalent for a large, high profile, national public sector (or at least charitable) organisation. I want to be there in eight years or so.

It’s not too much to ask; two promotions or so; I’m 33. In eight years I will be 41. Whilst I have not had my 40 therapy yet, I’m due to retire at 67 ½... a long time to coast along. Still, throw a couple of non-executive directorships into the mix and... ;-)

I’m passionate about three key areas of healthcare, the area that has become (for better or worse) my field – mental health, sexual health, and patient engagement. If I’m lucky I’ll be able to contribute to those areas in a real, meaningful way. And where I am now has really opened my eyes to where and what I want to be.

So that’ll be me for a while; trying to make that next step. In the meantime, to balance that out, I will be trying hard to be a better friend (as always, as always) and perhaps I’ll think of something very nice to do for my fiancé.

Curiosity killed the cat

I came across this image on a website I stumbled across recently - Equalitopia (link in my blog list)

It maps the responses given to a dating website to the question "have you ever had a sexual encounter with someone of the same sex?". I wonder how much the results represent the social acceptability of homosexuality, rather than truthful responses to the question. Unless they have a great nightlife in Louisiana... one the other hand they clearly know how to make the long winter nights fly by north of the border. O' Canada indeed!

Once apon a time

Where am I at with my life? I’m approaching the end of my exam season, studying in the evenings after work, going to the gym before I start in the office, and generally juggling a hefty workload when I’m there.


The thing is: so what?

Gentle reader, tell me truly: am I... dull?

I watch Battlestar Galactica and Dr Who and the occasional film. We have friends round for dinner, or we visit them. Sometimes we go to art galleries or the theatre. I tend the plants in my little garden. I read, when I have a chance (Matter by Iain M Banks is the current volume).

I work in an office. I go to the gym. My parents are divorced. I am engaged.

Funny how getting everything you worked for sometimes seems a bit... disappointing.

Coming out immeasurably improved my life, and my experiences over the last three years have been fantastic. In many ways it’s a shame they have come to an end. Now the Cheerful Fairy is an ordinary ‘mo, and it’s sometimes a bit sad not to be special.

I’ve never been a people person, nor particularly creative (as maybe perhaps you have noticed??). I get away with it by being OK looking, and reasonably bright. Introvert that I am, I look at the outgoing social types with a mixture of envy and dull incomprehension. The gay stereotype of the flamboyant creative actor type with a large circle of friends and a party lifestyle... well, it’s hardly ever true but it’s still out there, weighing down on my inadequacies so I feel them all the more.

Three of the most important lessons I have learned are:

• keep positive;

• taking a chance is never wrong;

• coming out was a really good thing to do.

But now I need some inspiration. I really have to make some changes.

Fella is fine; I genuinely couldn’t hope for more and I’m not stupid enough to throw away a good thing when I’ve got it – unlike International and those that came before him HA!

I’m thinking about the future, and have a detailed career plan forming in my head; I know I want to be with Fella and I know what’s going to happen by and large in my personal life. But overall I can’t help wondering what’s missing – or perhaps more accurately what I need to replace the excitement I had over the last three years.

I’m not dissatisfied with my life, quite the reverse. But I want to think about a big change. Changing career, moving to the other side of the world (Fella permitting). It’s just – what?? Inspiration, inspiration, inspiration... I’ll let you know when I get it,