He Said His Look was Au-Natural: (Part I)

I was having a conversation with a man on adam4adam. Yes I must admit that I have frequented the site several times over the years. I have met some really nice people, and some not so nice people. As a discreet, professional same-gender-loving man there are not a lot of avenues to meet decent available men. So many of us find ourselves on dating sites like adam4adam as a way of meeting someone.

Here it is 2010, and find myself alone and patiently waiting for Mr. Right, and yes sometimes Mr. Right-Now to come and offer me safety, passion, and maybe the L-word? Although I do not believe that one can necessarily find the L-word on adam4adam, there is always the chance of just meeting a nice guy for whatever the mood calls for.

I received a message one day from a man who identified himself as Nate. He was in his mid 40's, medium height, dark, and rather attractive. He said that he had returned to Chicago about 2 months ago to care for his mother. He admitted that it had been 20 years since he had been home. Nate had decided to come back home and reacquaint himself with the family he left behind. This family included a mother, sister and two estranged daughters. He had left Mobile Al where he had a home, job, and a daughter from a recent divorce.

After a few phone conversations, and several text messages we decided to finally meet. Mistake number one- I invited him to my home so we could spend the evening together and become better acquainted. Nate texted me before arriving that he hopes I will be OK with his Au-natural look. Meaning that he needed a hair cut and a shave. I responded that I was OK with that, and that he should come as he is.

I open my door to a man with a an Au-natural look, and a small nap sack on his shoulder. He made reference that he had some things from his daughter with him, and he was not able to drop them off before arriving. He looked like his picture he had shared with me. Strikingly handsome, slender and very masculine in appearance. I invited him in, and offered him a drink while we talked.

For the next two hours this man quoted scriptures, talked about his failed marriage, quoted scriptures, talked about God, and even once grabbed his bible out of his nap sack and demonstrated that he could quote an entire Psalms from heart without looking. I'm like OK this is really getting to be too much for me. I was finally able to convince him to lay off the scriptures and watch a movie.

Long-story short he stayed the night, and I offered him the shower, clean clothes to sleep in, while I washed the clothes he wore to my home. He was very appreciative and spent the night with arms, legs and emotions wrapped around me, as I wrapped myself around him. The connection was so intense, one that I was unsure if I had ever felt before. There was not any sex, just some great kissing and cuddling.

Long-story short this continued several times over the next few weeks. We spent a lot of time together, went to dinner, shopped for groceries, etc. One day his phone was no longer working, and we started to communicate via emails and facebook so I would know when we were going to get together again. I understood that he was having a rough time, low on finances, and needed someone who cared - Me.

And care did I provide. This was going to be my man, and he was just having a rough time. I have been in tight situations in the past, so I understood what he was going through. Well let's just say I thought I understood his situation.

Many would say that I am an intelligent man, with a good head on my shoulders. I always prided myself in having an innate ability to read and see through people. I considered for the most part, that I had a good judge of character when trying to size people up. Now I don't know any more.

When I look back over the weeks with Nate, there were so many signs that I chose to ignore. After all this man was fulfilling a need I had. I wanted to be held at night by someone who wanted to hold me. Sure I could have considered the words to "I can't make you love me." After all the verse says lay down with me and make me feel you love me if just for tonight. I guess I gave up the fight because I wanted this just for the night.

He was more than 20 years my Junior:

I met a guy about three months ago. Although we had been communicating via emails for the past 2-3 years, we had never met. He was cute, had a wonderful smile and more than 20 years plus my junior. I could imagine being the same age or older than his parents. Yes, you can say that I have a major problem with this but we were only meeting for dinner.

We met at a local restaurant for dinner. My date I will call Phil, had impeccable taste. His entire wardrobe reeked of class and sophistication. His jacket alone was to die for. He impressed me with his knowledge of wine, good food, and great small talk while we dined. He was a recent graduate of an Ivy league medical school, and was a new attending at a local hospital. When the check came, he snatched it up and offered his credit card. I was speechless, someone is paying for my meal, and it was not cheap. I offered to pay the tip, and he reluctantly agreed.

Can I be a cougar? I really like him, and he is my equal. He is financially secure, drives a posh sport car, and makes a six-figure salary. When was the last time I can say this ish happened. Can this young man, 20 years my junior be what the doctor called for?

I invite him over for after dinner drinks. A short conversation and soon our lips are locked and we head to the bedroom for mind blowing sex! Damn this man is good, and we are sexually compatible as well. We mesh great together, enjoy each others company, and have great sex.

Phil admits that he ended a bad relationship last year, and does not believe he will ever trust or date again. Phil like many was taken advantage of by a less-than desirable. He also admits that because of his new work schedule, he would not put a future mate through this. Damn!, my luck here is a possible Mr. Right and he is processing what Mr. Less-than-desirable did last year.

I Am Changing but not the Dream Girls Version: (part 1)

It's been some time since I have posted an update to my blog Life with Ray. I decided to title this "I am Changing." Of course when I hear these 3 words, I am reminded of the the song from Dream Girls. But I am changing in a different way

I have reached an age where I am beginning to learn that I do not have anything to prove to anyone. I am my own person, and a person I am proud to call me. You see this was not always the case. I spent many years ashamed of me and the life I wanted to live. Sure, I can blame much of this on the ministers that preached their homophobic messages. And I can blame it on the African American community that has never embraced me and my lifestyle.


The Ministers: For many years I have sat quietly trying not to draw attention to myself, while my pastor preached against my lifestyle. He quoted scriptures that convinced me that I was bound for hell, unless I changed my sexual preferences. He also said that I made a choice to be this way. "Funny" is what they called it at the time. Well I can assure you there was never a time in my life when I was presented with a choice, either choose to be homosexual or you can choose to be heterosexual.

There was never a choice. You see I was born a man that was attracted to other men. I really detest many of the labels they have chosen for me. So I have chosen to call myself "same gender loving" or sgl. If it is necessary to understand me, use this term and it will be clear. I am simply a man who loves being with another man.

I struggled with this for many years, and even sometimes today. You see I never made a choice to be sgl, I was sgl at birth. I was never molested as a child as I understand many were. I was raised with a mother and a father in the home. Some say that this is caused by a domineering mother, or in homes where the father is absent. Although both of my parents were together during my childhood, my dad was absent much of the time. Dad was busy working two jobs, and later I learned fathering other children while mom raised us. Yes, I did have strong female role models as a child. Actually there were three, my grandmother, aunt, and my mom. These were loving women, my support and foundation. I'm sadden to think that only one of these lovely women are alive. These women have left me a legacy to be proud of, and a lifetime of wonderful memories and magical moments. Every child should have the opportunity to experience being loved.

I shamefully admit that I have not been to church for a very long time. I am also more shameful to admit that I lie to my mother, and she believes that I attend faithfully. I decided that I was no longer going to support a ministry that referred to my lifestyle as unnatural, or an abomination. Currently I am seeking a ministry that welcomes me, and makes me feel welcome.

African American Communities: This is a hot topic and one that many will not agree upon. I am part of a community that does not embrace my lifestyle, nor does it accept me a same gender loving man. I tested this hypothesis on two of my closet female friends. I made a statement that the African American community is the reason why many men chose to be on the down low. Well as you can imagine it caused quite a stir. Of course my friends did not agree with me, and I did not expect them to. Our disagreement did not jeopardize our friendship, because we have always been able to agree to disagree.

There is so much more I could say regarding the African American communities distaste for my lifestyle, that I have decided to continue this blog in part 2 of "I am Changing."

A date with my professor

I was recently perusing a dating site that I tend to frequent too often and ran across a profile with a familiar face. Some years ago in my undergrad anthropology course I had a professor that was absolutely brilliant and also quite sexy. At first I was hesitant to send him a message but I decided what the heck all he can say is no.

I decided to send him a message and said that he looked familiar, and reminded me of a professor I had in an undergrad anthropology course. I also stated that he looked great, and commented on how much I enjoyed his class. As luck would have it he responded, and stated that he was in fact a professor of Anthropology at the school I attended. He thanked me for my message, and was grateful that he had made an impact on my life with his course.

I decided to take it a step further and told him that I always had a crush on him and wondered if I was too obvious. He responded that he was also attracted to me. He further stated that he wanted to connect with me as well, and that he was not aware of my crush.

Long story short we spoke over the phone and decided to meet for dinner and a movie the upcoming Friday. At first he wondered if this was too akward for me and of course I stated no. I asked him if I should continue to call him Professor X , he laughed and said no that I could call him by his first name. Of course my wicked mind thought about a scene we could eventually play out as student and pupil, but I kept that to myself.

So friends and fans what do you think? Should I show up with an apple in hand or a bottle of wine for an after dinner drink?

How many of you will admit to a crush on a favorite teacher or how many of you have already dated a teacher from the past?

I will update you with the results of my first date. Sounds like a LifeTime movie in the makings!

rp

The DL and the black community

I know my thoughts and beliefs about the black community will be defended by many, and possilbly strike a nerve in others who decide to remain silent.

The black community has been less loving and accepting of SGLM (same gender loving men) for decades, and I do not see this changing any time soon. SGLM have been ostracized,ridiculed and made to feel less than a man because they love men. The churches preach hell and damnation to hard legs that want hard legs. They say we choose this lifestyle. Now come on people, who would choose a lifestyle that is shunned by society and told it is immoral, made to believe you are deviant and un-natural.

I was never faced with an option to choose between being gay or to be heterosexual. I was never raped, molested or wanted to be a woman either. But as far back as I can remember I have had an attraction to the same sex, so thus I am a sglm who enjoys the company of other sglm's. No, I do not choose to consider an effeminant man who has not clearly chosen if he wants to identify with being a man or woman. But I appreciate the company of other masculine men who are attracted to masculine men. Now granted there are those that choose to be with effeminate men, I am just not one of them.

I believe the reason why so many black men are what society has decided to call them on the downlow is because of the attitudes of black america. I have sat through too many sermons of ministers degrading homosexual men. Only later to have been caught on their knees giving a blow job or waiting to be mounted from behind. Yes I know that not all black ministers are not under-cover gay men. But if Christ speaks of love and salvation for all why are you not trying to reach these men who need support and someone to listen to them. If they dont have you who else will they turn to.

Why not address HIV in the churches? This is where you have the masses of people and a captive audience. Too many of our black women are being infected daily from this dreadful disease. Sisters make your men strap up and stop saying "No, not my man he could never be gay". Your husbands, boyfriends and fuck partners are the ones that I run into the most. They are on the sex phone lines and internet sites looking for ass, and dick while you are out making money to keep the lights on.

Yes, its sad but it is true. I am not condoning this behavior because it is wrong. If you are cheating on your partner the least you can do is protect your home and strap a condom on, since you are not man enough to be honest and admit that you like men.

Just something to think about.

Afraid I could not contain it for you

I received a call yesterday that you were back in intensive care. From the report they said you were frail and black as coal. I assume the virus has overtaken you,and I wonder how long you will be with me. I am not certain how I can manage never hearing the skepticism in your voice again, or seeing the smile that has brighten many dark days. I refuse to add you to the list of others I have lost but it appears I may not have a choice.

When I saw you last in your hospital bed, I moved away to gather myself so you would not see the tears in my eyes. I told you that I loved you,and you responded that you loved me too. I really think you saw the tears in my eyes but you chose not to acknowledge them.

I have known for some time about your status but you chose not to share it with me, and I respected your privacy. I wonder sometimes if you wanted me to ask you, because after all you put it out there often enough. Maybe I was afraid to hear what you would say or afraid that I could not contain it for you.

I am afraid to count up how many I have lost to the virus. I think often that it could have been me, but by the grace of God I am here and my status is negative. I am at a point where I wonder if being celibate is a better option than to take risks with people who are not honest or don't know themselves. They say approach every possible partner as if they were positive, well how safe really is safe sex?

When I place a personal ad and state that I am STD free/ HIV- and looking for the same, I have offended those who are positive but don't I have the right to make a choice?. Sometimes I am frightened that I will meet someone and fall in love only to find out later their status is positive. Then what? If I love him I will not be able to walk away.

So I ask myself again, why didn't I talk to you about your status? I wonder if it really was fear or then again I was afraid that I could not contain it for you.

Twice As Good

I mentioned in a previous post about being "Good Enough." I was raised in the projects during a time when leaving your door unlocked was not uncommon. My mother trusted her neighbors,and believed that everyone watched out for each other. This was a time when everyone believed in the Great American Dream. If you worked hard enough there was nothing that you could not accomplish.
Although my parents believed in the Great American Dream, their southern upbringing caused them to doubt the validity of such a notion. Both of my parents were reared in the south during a time when Jim Crow laws were in existence. They learned first hand what it meant to be poor, and black in the south. They knew that hard work did indeed pay off but it required more than just hard work. My mother bless her heart believed that white people only looked out for each other. She also did not believe that they would advocate for blacks if it meant putting their own kind as second.
I learned first hand what it meant to be "Twice as Good". My mother sat me down as a young boy and told me, "You have to be twice as good as them (white people), to be accepted for half their worth. This was a hard pill to swallow for me as a child. I learned from this lesson that the playing ground would never be even. I believed that my academic status would never be Good Enough. Although this lesson helped me in many ways, such as striving to always do my best it also hindered me.
I do not fault my mom because she instructed me out of concern. She knew being a black man in America would not be easy, and that I needed to understand my play ground. When I say her instructions hindered me, I say this because I have a difficult time excepting my achievements. I feel that whatever I do, that it is never good enough.
Perhaps with time and a good therapist,I will learn to accept and love me for being me.

If you look into my life, and see what I see.

As I was driving down the Eisenhower this evening, Mary's "My Life" came on the radio. "If you look into my life, and see what I see." Well unlike Mary I am uncertain of what I see in my life. You see after all these years I am still trying to figure me out. I decided that perhaps writing about me will allow me to see myself through a different set of lens. So I title my blog "Living with Ray."

I have wanted to blog for a very long time. It was out of fear that I put it off for so long. I was afraid that others would read my blog, and decide that I was not a great writer and incompetent. Although I have achieved graduate degrees, a certain level of success, and have been recognized for my work in research, I continue to doubt my competence. I have on countless occasions developed various tests to determine to convince myself that I was competent, and if I really knew what I was doing. Yes, to some degree I know I am not ignorant but I just don't feel I am good enough.

"Good Enough" I will elaborate more on this later.

As I sit here and write. I am moved to tears because of the pain I feel. I hope that by sharing this blog will begin my healing process. I do not plan to write tear jerking posts, nor am I looking for sympathy. I only want a place where I can write about me and, process what it's like living with me.

You can be assured that I am not schizophrenic, and that I do not suffer from multiple personalities. And I do not hear audible voices nor do I see visions that others don't see. Well maybe the visions in another context.

Writing is cathartic. I have always enjoyed writing, and at one time wanted to be a writer. Perhaps once I have completed my doctorate, and have developed my private practice, I will have time to work on the book I have envisioned writing.