Tag Archives: lgbt

Restarting in 5… 4… 3… 2… 1…

Water Splash Isolated On White.

So, I lost my mind a little bit over the weekend. Pride was difficult for me. It’s hard being gay, and yet, not fitting in with the gay community. It’s also hard when the gay community then judges you for not fitting in, and tries to tell you it’s your fault. It’s sad when minority groups act exactly like the groups that have oppressed them, and what’s even worse, the minority groups feel some sort of moral high-ground and can’t bring themselves to view their actions as anything other than martyrdom.

Here’s an example – So I was having a hard time with Pride. It’s always difficult when everyone else is out having fun, and I’m left on the sidelines. It’s even harder when all these people are having fun doing things that I’m “supposed” to enjoy doing. It makes me feel defective. Like somehow I’m broken.

So, I’m saying this to a guy…I told him how the gay community has norms, and granted these norms are different from heterosexual norms, but they are norms nonetheless. I gave examples, like how we’re for some reason supposed to love wearing rainbows, we’re supposed to be ok with barebacking now that prep is a thing, how heavy drinking and drug use is normalized, and femininity is hailed as heroic while masculinity is seen as desperately trying to be “straight”. If you don’t agree with these beliefs, you are seen as less-than. I told him how that’s stupid and proves that the LGBTQ community isn’t this welcoming, loving bunch of people that they portray themselves to be. And that Pride is only for a people who follow the norms. I told him that I don’t feel like Pride is for me. it seems like its for other people. People who play the game. People who conform.

pride2

I mean, just look at this photo… Andy Cohen and the Real Housewives are not good idols to have. In fact, Andy Cohen is notoriously an egomaniacal asshole who treats people like shit. Just Google him if you don’t believe me. So, anyways, Gays listen to me…. Just admit it. Pride isn’t about Pride. It’s a time for the Divas to come show off, be seen, and post to social media. Stop pretending it’s somehow courageous.

OMG, I got lost in a tangent.  So anyways, I say this to this guy, and his response (keep in mind, he’s white)… he goes, “Oh, this is sooooo typical. A cis white man feels like an event isn’t made specifically for him, so he gets mad and claims oppression. I bet you voted for Trump too!”

LIBERALS AND GAYS… WHY DO YOU KEEP DOING THIS?

ARE YOU LITERALLY TRYING TO MAKE PEOPLE HATE YOU? 

 

Seriously.  Do you want to win 2020? Or do you just want to show what privileged assholes you are by no longer feeling like you even need to listen to what others says?

 

But anyhoo…. It’s Monday. Pride is over. The gays are all leaving back to wherever they came from, the city is slowing down, the sun in shining, and I’m ready to restart.

tide

 

It’s true that I can’t change the gays, or anyone for that matter. Cultural norms are extremely hard to change. However, I can focus on myself. I can work to my dreams come true. I can work to find the people I belong with. Pride isn’t for me. And that impacts nobody but me. The millions of people at Pride this weekend didn’t even know that I was sitting in my apartment, nor would they even care.

It’s up to me to find where I belong. To make meaning for myself. And to live the life I want.

Yes. It sucks that nobody is there for me. And it sucks that nobody cares.

But, that doesn’t change that that’s the reality of life.

So.

Deep breath…

In, out, in, out.

Let’s do this.

~The Dark Horse

(Sooooooooo not proofread!)

Advertisements

PRIDE. (Or, Misery, Loneliness, and Dread.)

pride

So, I just got back from my trip to London, and I’m very disappointed to say, it was horrible. And making everything even worse is that now I’m back in New York City and WorldPride is going on, so gays are everywhere.

…Having just read what I wrote above, I think I need to clear something up – I am gay. Not a homophobe.

Let me explain where the problems are coming from,

So, I was in London on a press trip for Pride. It was me and two other reporters from the US. Then, the big part of the trip was the flight back to New York City for pride. On the flight, the 3 of us US reporters were seated amongst 30 gay UK reporters.

The 30 UK reporters all knew each-other. The gay media scene in the UK isn’t that large since the country isn’t that large. So, all the UK guys were sassily cliqued up with who they knew, and didn’t take the time to introduce themselves to any of us.

NYC Gay Pride March 2018

To make it even worse, to celebrate Pride, the plane started playing “gay music” to celebrate. Britney, Madonna, Cher, Ariana – all singers that I really don’t give a shit about. In only a few minutes, the plane stopped functioning like a normal flight. Everyone had gotten up in the aisles to dance, mingle with their friends, and drink.

It was the stereotypical bitchy sass-fest you’d imagine with a group of gay men. The UK reporters loudly gossiped about the bad parties they had gone to, the lame gays they knew who obviously weren’t as cool as them, and bragged about the trips they had gone on (which…HELLO! We were all reporters who had gone places! Who the fuck are you bragging to exactly?)

One of the US reporters found a UK reporter he knew, and gleefully jumped up and ran over to his group to join in on the “fun.” And throughout the entire 8-hour flight – a flight that was supposed to be celebrating pride, equality, and the LGBTQ siblinghood – How many of those reporters do you think ever took the time to introduce themselves to me, or ask who I was… The answer is zero. 

pride3

And that’s the problem with PRIDE in general.  PRIDE has nothing to do with Pride. PRIDE has nothing to do with friendship. PRIDE has nothing to do with equality.

PRIDE is a status symbol. Gays wearing a rainbow shirt is like a straight guy wearing a Patriots jersey. It’s social signaling, saying “I’m on the team.” Attending PRIDE parties is like attending a football game, it’s for fun. Nothing more. There is no moral high ground to PRIDE.

It’s a bunch of people dressing up and partaking in the gay societal norms, snapcahtting, instagramming, and tweeting all along the way…for one reason alone. To say, “I WAS HERE. I DID THIS. I’M COOL. I’M TRENDY. I’M PART OF THIS.” 

New York City Gay Pride Parade 2015

When we landed, they put all the reporters in a bus and took us into Manhattan. In the bus, everyone howled and raved about the flight…

“Did you see….OMG they were so smashed, I was like, Gurl!”

“OMG! It was so nuts. I literally can’t believe it!”

“And OMG…. was like, hogging so much aisle space when he was dancing, I was like, honey, this a cramped space, you need to be more aware, like OMG, right?”

And so on…

All the reporters who had gotten sloppy drunk, were now thrilled to have something new to talk about. AND OF COURSE, when retelling the stories of the sloppiest people, they never included themselves. It was always someone else who was the sloppiest. Someone else who didn’t partake the way they should have, someone else who just didn’t get “how it goes.”

I felt like I was back in high school. I couldn’t believe grown adults were acting like children.

pride5

The band PWR BTTM has a song that says, “When you are queer, you are always 19…” And I think that’s true. It seems like the gays are always so immensely immature. Like they’re always trying to be the popular girl they never got to be when they were young. All that hiding and lying they had to do in their youth explodes when they finally come out as adults, and then, they live forever, trying to be the Regina George they couldn’t be when they had the chance.

I was supposed to cover WorldPride with that group of reporters. In fact, we got put up in a very fancy hotel. And were given swag bags that had some very valuable things inside (like gift cards loaded with $100).

But I just couldn’t handle it. 

LA Pride Parade 2018 (Photo by Chris Tuite)

If any of you have read this blog before, you know that growing up, I was treated like shit. And to spend a weekend surrounded by people like this… people who would gleefully throw someone under the bus if they knew it would give them publicity… I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

I was on the verge of crying when I walked into the hotel room. It was gorgeous, on the 16th floor, in downtown Manhattan. The entire room was just stunning, with a bathroom anyone would kill to take even one shower in. I looked through my swag bag… and saw all the expensive things inside. I felt horrible for giving all of this up. The amount of money that must have spent on it made me feel sick, for being privileged enough to just leave it all there.

But then I thought about having to stay there the whole weekend. Stay there with those people. Stay there listening to non-stop gossip about people I didn’t even know. Nonstop social media obsession, snapping pictures of every moment to be seen by their adoring “fans” online. Could I really do it?

The answer was no. When everyone went up to their rooms, I quietly checked out and left.

pride8

And now, here I am. Alone.

This was going to be my first PIRDE. But instead, I’m going hide from it. It’s hard knowing that everyone can find such pleasure and happiness in things that don’t mean anything to me. And it’s even worse that since I’m gay, everyone thinks I’m SUPPOSED to love this.   Everyone talks to me like this is the fucking super bowl for gay people, and want to know how excited I am.

But I’m not. In fact, I hate it. I hate that everyone gets to have fun except me. I hate that once again I’m on the sidelines. I hate that my personality has once again not clicked with yet another group of people. I hate that when you’re gay, society tries to box you in, forcing you to only assimilate with other LGBTQ people. Because I don’t feel that they are my people.

At no point during that flight did i ever feel represented. At no point did I ever feel welcomed. At no point did I ever feel included. Or even wanted. The reality is that gay people are just like straight people – We’re diverse. There is no one lifestyle that we like. So, to assume that all gays want to wear rainbows, listen to Madonna, and get smashed as they gossip like 1950’s housewives is bullshit. And what’s even shittier is that the gays willingly jump into this lifestyle like there’s no other way to live.

 

So, from me to the world, I kindly say, fuck all of you.

~ The Dark Horse

Why Pride is Still Needed

pride

So, I’m writing this because of all the backlash that pride month is getting this year. For some reason, straight people are feeling the need to create “straight pride parades”, ban gay pride parades, and harass LGBT people and their allies on social media.

I’m going to write about my experiences to hopefully show why Pride is still important, and how LGBTQ people are not treated equally or given “special treatment” like some suggest. I’m also writing knowing that this IS NOT worst that the LGBTQ community goes through. I’m in no way trying to say I’ve had it the worst. Quite the opposite actually – I’m trying to show how everyday homophobia still exists. Homophobia is more than just a gay person being murdered.  LGBTQ people can be treated like shit on various levels in all aspects of life, and while nothing is as tragic as a murder, the “smaller” things add up when a community has to deal with it regularly.

Here are some things I’ve had to go through…

Harassment 
Growing up in Ohio, I was called faggot daily at school, my health teacher in high school told me that I since I was gay, I was going to die of AIDS, and people refused to be my friend. Even if they weren’t homophobic themselves, their association with me would ruin their social lives, and potentially lead to them getting called faggot as well. So, to be safe, those who didn’t hate me kept their distance out of fear.

Pride is important because, like me, those who come from areas where nobody accepted them feel alone and hopeless. Pride events show them that they are not alone.

Neglect
Neglect is normal for LGBTQ people. I didn’t know how my parents would react to me being gay, so I didn’t tell them until I moved out. My German teacher in high school was particularly homophobic and while I had books thrown at me, had my backpack stolen, and threats of being beaten up, she causally looked the other way, ignoring everything.

Pride is important because because, like me, those who have never had anyone stand up for them feel unsafe and scared of the world. Pride events show them that they are allowed to walk this earth without fear.

Employment
Finding employment, retaining employment, and having a happy and healthy worklife is difficult for LGBTQ people. Let me use my experience as an example. I was hired at Outback Steakhouse. Soon after, the manager who hired me transferred to another store. The new manager, a ridiculously stereotypical straight man, hated me from the day he walked through the door.
Obviously, it’s impossible to prove that it was homophobia. AND THAT IS THE PROBLEM. In this country, with our laws, anyone can simply say they didn’t like an employee or coworker because of their performance, or their attitude, or some similar complaint, and then the LGBTQ person is helpless in fighting for their rights.
For my example, the manager soon hired his granddaughter. Like me, she was one of the hosts, so we worked together regularly. She pestered me about my sexuality endlessly, until one day I got fed up and finally told her I was gay to shut her up.
She then paraded around the restaurant, loudly telling everyone that I was gay, and how weird that was. When she got back up to the host stand, I said, “You know, I know this job seems like nothing to you, because you were hired simply because your grandfather owns the place, but for some of us, this money is important.”
Guess which one of us got fired for “harassing another employee…”
Exactly.

Pride is important because, like me, many LGBTQ people have experienced real inequality that isn’t fair and isn’t right. Pride events give them a space to tell stories and discuss experiences with others in a safe space.

Depression, Anxiety, Anger, and Fear
Rates of depression and anxiety run high in the LGBTQ community. And anger about the past, the fear for the future linger for us all. For example, my current roommate in New York City, one of America’s most liberal cities, is a Trump supporter.
I have to hear him talk to all of his friends in our living room about how annoying gay people are and how “they’re always looking for attention.” He also said he supports the idea of companies being able to refuse service to LGBTQ people. He even told his friends how he thinks it’s gross and wrong when guys “act too gay.”
Now, listen to me…I never would have moved into this place had I known this beforehand. But when I visited the apartment before I moved in, the questions of “Who did you vote for in 2016” or “Do you find gay people gross?” never came up. This NYC for fuck sakes! I didn’t think I had to ask questions like that. But guess what, unfortunately when you’re LGBTQ, you do. Even in 2019.
We don’t get to blindly trust our peers the way straight people do. We don’t get to walk into situations assuming that people won’t hate us. We don’t even get to hold hands in public without the entire world staring us down.

AND THAT IS WHY PRIDE IS SO IMPORTANT. Because the LGBTQ community does not yet have equality.
We don’t yet have safety.
We don’t yet have peaceful lives.
PRIDE is to help us stay sane. It’s for us to feel worthwhile, to feel accepted, and to feel a part of something.

Thank you for reading.

Feeling Alive Again. Or, Courtney Act on Big Brother Has Brought Me Back From The Dead

courtney

 

So, I don’t know how many people out there keep up with the UK telly, but something amazing was just going down on what is normally a generic and trashy reality show.

The 21st season of Big Brother in the UK just concluded and that shit was bloody brilliant! As an American, I didn’t know much about the show except that Courtney Act was going to be on the show.  Now, I’ll say, if I were 15 years old, I would have watched that show every night of the damn week.

You see, as a teenager, I used to love Big Brother….And you know what, I should probably have a Big Brother breakdown here for everyone, because Big Brother is completely different in every country around the world.

big

 

Here in the US, Big Brother used to be like a fucking marathon event.  The show was on, for no joke, almost 3 months. That means that everyone who made it into the top 7 got to stay for the entire 3 month period, whether it’s in the house, or the sequester house.  I know that in other countries, the show is only on for about a month. And then sometimes those Celebrity Big Brother seasons are only like 3 or 4 weeks.

Anyways, so as the gay kid in Ohio who was beat up and made fun of constantly, Big Brother seemed like a dream come true. It was this house filled with all these hot fun people, AND THEY WERE LOCKED IN WITH YOU….FOR 3 FUCKING MONTHS! 

It just seemed like the ultimate way to make friends. You could be close to all these people, and you were never alone. The hot jock would have to get to know you because you were sharing a room. The pretty cheerleading type would become your friend because an alliance needed to be formed. The wise old woman who’s been through shit could give you advice all damn day because you’re sharing a house together.  It all just seemed so perfect! I was sure that the reason I was alone all the time was because nobody ever took the time to get to know me.  But, if they were locked in a house with me for three months they’d have to!  It would be like one big family at summer camp!

So anyhoo, I used to watch the show religiously. All the episodes.  They’d have the Sunday, and Tuesday, shows and the Thursday live eviction show.  I used to fantasize about being the house with them. Watching all these people share a bedroom, share a shower, share the hot tub, share everything.  For someone who was alone all the time, Big Brother was fuckin wet dream for me. I loved the idea of having people in my life…even if they did potentially want to vote me out of the house. I used to stay up in bed at night, fantasizing that I was a member in the house too; making friends, and living life to the fullest.  I used to love the hope and excitement I felt watching that show, feeling that some exciting adventure was just around the corner!

big1

But as I got older, the show lost it’s luster. I stopped thinking that every new person was a potential friend. My heart hardened. Walls were built to protect myself. I stopped watching the show.

 

But, something with this new season began to attract my attention. I started seeing news articles creep up about something incredible happening in the Big Brother House. This season of UKCBB (United Kingdom Celebrity Big Brother) was titled “Year of the women” because this year marks 100 years of women having the right to vote in the UK. The show was already leaning towards a discussion of gender, and threw in 2 extra dimensions into the storyline.

big2

 

The first was India, The UK’s first trans woman to be a part of a news team.

big4

 

And the second was Shane J / Courtney Act, a drag artist who was previously famous from Australian Idol back in the mid-2000’s (which Shane did in drag as Courtney and pioneered the way for others) and then more famously, Ru Paul’s Drag Race.

big5.jpg

 

And then to counteract all of this, they also brought in ultra-conservative politician and super crotchety old woman, Ann Widdecombe.

ann

 

 

So, sparks started to fly because India was just god-awful, and Ann was just an old dusty bitch.   But the entire house, and all of the UK began to fall in love with Courtney.  She had multiple conversations with everyone in the house about gender, sexuality, and performance. She was willing to talk to anyone about the differences between drag, and trans. The difference between gay and pansexual, and the difference between gender and biological sex.

She even took to debating Ann about some of the more conservative and Anti-gay policies she helped enact back during her time in parliament. But what made Courtney so amazing was her ability to always remain calm, collected, and willing to engage in any  conversation that may have come up.

big8

 

And everyone loved it.  She was the house favorite, and the entire nation fell in love with her for knowledge, self confidence, and beauty.  The UK as a whole even started a national conversation on gender because of what was going down on the show. She wasn’t just teaching the other housemates, but she was teaching an entire country, and thanks to the internet, the entire world!

 

So this is first part of where I started feeling myself wake up inside. There’s just something about Courtney Act that I need to be more like. I need to carry myself with her confidence. I need to walk into a room and actually feel like I belong.  Somehow, even though Courtney Act tends to look like a slutty drag queen Barbie, she ends up being the shining light in every situation she’s in.  I need to have the self love and respect that she has.

big9

 

Furthermore, during the season, Courtney Act managed to school everyone on gender and sexuality.  She not only carries herself well, but she is phenomenal in conversations. She took what could have been some very difficult and controversial moments, and spoke to housemates about them as if it were just the most natural thing to her. I need to be better at communicating with others.  

Check out Courtney given’ the boys a lesson on Drag and Trans:

 

 

So yeah, I’m a guy, and I have never done drag, but damn, there’s so much to learn from Courtney Act.

 

 

Secondly, there was a bit of a show romance happing in the show as well! There’s an insanely cute guy on the show named Andrew Brady (He was on the UK Apprentice or whatever…)

big10

So get this…. from the very first second Courtney Act walks into the Big Brother house, he’s in love with her.

big6

And from there… a Bromance/Romance began!

They started getting really close, and Andrew was constantly flirting with Courtney Act.

Throughout the show the “friendship” grew and grew…..

drew1drew2drew3

 

And then, as time went on, Andrew started like Shane, even out of drag… for a gay boy like me, it was like magic was happening.  A hot straight guy was getting along with a man who, out of drag, was an effeminate guy, and in drag was….well, a drag queen.  It was so amazing to see Andrew form this friendship and not care about labels or what other people may think.  He was just himself, and Courtney was just herself…and they connected.  It was amazing and heartwarming to watch.

drew10drew11drew13drew14

 

Oh my God…. they even had tub time one night!  It was fuckin’ amazing!  So yeah…that fifteen year old inside me who used to watch Big Brother hoping to find an amazingly close friendship… well, he felt super pleased watching this season.  I get those butterflies in my stomach again watching this season, just like I used to when I was a teenager. I find myself laying up in bed at night again, imaging myself in the house….Imagining some handsome straight guy was becoming my friend, and was having tub time with me too! I get this rush watching this season… a rush I haven’t felt in such a long time.  The rush of youthful excitement and passion and hope for some great adventure.  And ya know, I’ve missed that feeling…and I’m glad it’s back!

 

And You know what, everyone noticed that she was a shining light as well… because she won!

big11

Watch the win here:

 

But look, I think we can all be winners here.  I think we can all learn a lot about being your true self and letting yourself shine, even if your true self is something that the common man might find odd or different.  Courtney went into that house and literally changed people’s minds about the LGBTQ community and that is fucking amazing!   Let’s all try to be beautiful, engaging, and inspiring people! 

 

~ The Dark Horse

 

 

 

 

 

My Sexual Assault Story

mac

Alright, so, this is Mackinac Island.  A small resort island in the Great Lakes.  I’m going to share with everyone a story about what happened to me there.

But first let me say, this isn’t a memory I’ve thought about recently.  I was reading a book yesterday called Suicide Notes.  In the book something happens to the main character that was very similar to something that has happened to me.  He wakes up in the suicide wing of mental ward.  He is there with about 5 other teens who are in extreme mental distress.  One night, the big football jock (who never discloses the reason why he is there) named Renken comes into his room while he’s sleeping and… you know.

After reading that scene, the memory of Mackinac came flooding back into my head.

Here’s what happened:

mac1

Although it seems like a sleepy little resort island, behind the scenes is a whole different story.  When you work on the island you stay up in the middle of the island.  The part where nobody goes.  Most of the hotels put you up in “dorms” which is basically 2 old houses that have been connected together.  I was staying in one of the dorms for the hotel called The Island House during the summer of 2014.

My roommate was this kind of machismo guy who’s dad was in the military.   He didn’t go to college and he smoked and drank and did drugs like a fuckin’ crazy person.   But then again, everyone on Mackinac Island did drugs.  Drugs were everywhere.  For me, someone who doesn’t drink or do drugs, it was a horrible experience already.  The dorms were separated by gender.  There were guy dorms and girl dorms.   So you can image, a building filled with a bunch of guys between 20 and 28 who drank, fucked, and did drugs like crazy…it was kind of like living the worst frat-house nightmare imaginable.

 

So, one night about a month into my stay there, I’m sleeping and suddenly I start having this horrible dream.   In my dream I woke up and saw a shadowy figure standing in the room staring at me.  I remember it was making this weird kind of incoherent noise.  I felt so scared.  I remember in the dream I was saying “No…please go away….go away…please go away…”  and I felt so cold. I just remember this intense feeling of being exposed and cold and scared.

Then, I actually opened my eyes and saw that there was something in my room staring at me.  It was a person. But it was so dark I couldn’t really make out who it was.  I remember having this feeling like my stomach was in knots but at the same time it felt like my stomach was also clumped in my throat.  It was so difficult to process because I was still only half-awake.  I put the covers over me and tried hiding. I was so scared because I didn’t know what was going on, I just knew there was someone in my room.

Suddenly I could hear the sounds of someone climbing up the bunk bed and into my bed.  I was so scared I couldn’t breathe.  Then it laid down next to me.  At this point I kind of woke up a little more and was confused… If someone had come into my room to kill or rob me or something, they wouldn’t just lay down.   I took the blanket off from over my head and looked to see that it was my roommate.

I became a little less stressed knowing that I was safe and that it was just my roommate.  I figured he just got super drunk or high and had no idea where he was and came into my bed by accident.  I started to fall back asleep until suddenly he grabbed my hand and put it on his penis.  At that point I suddenly realized my roommate wasn’t wearing pants and was erect.  I quickly moved my hand away but he grabbed it again and put it back on his penis.     I moved my hand away again, and then he put his hands in my underwear and grabbed my penis.

I said, “What are you doing…dude stop”.   But then he started this weird incoherent low-level mumbling….the same that I heard from the shadowy figure in my dream before I woke up.    Suddenly I was terrified again, knowing that he must have been standing over my bed watching me as he mumbled whatever the fuck he was saying.   That must have been why I was so scared in my dream and why I felt so exposed.  My body must have known that someone was standing and watching me.

He grabbed my head and tried pushing me down to suck his dick.   I pulled away again and said, “Dude stop it, seriously.  what the hell is going on?”.    It was so weird because he kept his eyes closed.  Like he didn’t want to mentally be part of the moment.   Then the mumbling became more audible.  He was calling me “fag” and “slut” and was saying things like “Suck it you fuckin bitch”.

I was pretty much awake at this point, and I was scared.  This guy wasn’t the most stable I had ever met to begin with, plus I didn’t what kind of drugs he was on that night so I had no idea what he would be capable of doing”.  I tried playing stupid and so I did one of those koala cuddles to him, where you put your leg and your arm around the other person.  I tried doing it in an ‘Oh lets cuddle’ type way, but what I was actually doing was trying to hold his arms down so he couldn’t grab me.

He kept pushing my arms off and kept trying to push my head down to his crotch.   When he saw that wasn’t working he grabbed my penis again, and obviously it was limp because…how the fuck am I supposed to be aroused in a moment like that?   Then in his weird mumbling he said, “why aren’t you hard you fuckin fag?”.

I was now pretty pumped up with adrenaline and so I sat up and I said, “You need to get the fuck out of my bed right now”.   He tried grabbing me again but I swatted his hand away.  Then, silently, he got up and left the room.  I could hear that he walked into the bathroom which was the door next to ours and I heard him get in the shower.  I locked the bedroom door and tried to get back to sleep.

 

The next day when I saw him I asked what had happened last night.  He of course was like, “What do you mean?”   So I told him that I was talking about him coming into my bed.  Then he responded with something like, “Oh man I was so drunk I probably had no idea which bed was mine..”  Which you know what, I wouldn’t have cared if that was the case.  Had he been drunk and passed out in my bed I wouldn’t have cared.  But that wasn’t all that happened…

So then I said…”dude, you didn’t pass out in my bed…did you not realize that you didn’t wake up in our room this morning?”   And he was like… “Oh ya I crashed in my friends room”.    kept pushing him.  I said, “Do you know why you had to do that?”  And he was like… “No man, why?”  So I straight up told him.  I told him that he came into my bed and tried making me suck his dick.   To which he responded with, “Oh dude, I was so high I probably thought I was crawling in a girl’s bed or something….”

….SERIOUSLY?   

So then I mentioned that that doesn’t make any sense considering that he he grabbed my dick, which isn’t something you would normally do to a girl…

Then he got all quiet and was like… “well that wasn’t me man, must have been someone else…”

 

I knew it was him.  I wasn’t the drunk and high one in that bed.  I clearly remember who was in that bed with me and I remember what he did.

We never really spoke after that.  However, 2 days later he switched rooms.  Then he told all the guys in the dorm that the reason he left our room was because I was a fag and would stare at him when he was naked.

Furthermore, anytime I would pass him in the building or on the lawn he would always call me a fag as I walked by.  He of course was always sitting with about 5 other guys at all times so it wasn’t exactly like I could have fought him or anything.

 

People would say things to me like, “Oh man I don’t know what you did to him but he’s always talking about how he wants to beat you up” and “You really shouldn’t have come on to him….it’s kind of your fault”.

 

But you know what people, I’m gay and from Ohio.  Sadly, I know how the world treats gay people.  From experience I know that adding flame to the fire is the worst thing you can do.  Going around and telling everyone what really happened was only going to make him even more mad.  And a closeted drug addict son of a military father is not the kind of guy you want to question the sexuality of.   That would just be me asking to get beat to death one night.

 

So I justified it to myself.  I told myself this is just how the world treats me.  Nobody ever cared about me before, so why would they now?  I remember thinking that, after all, he was the hottest guy who has ever wanted to have sex with me…so maybe I should have been grateful?   I just did what I had to do to make it through the rest of that summer.

 

But now, after reading that book all these years later I’m fucking pissed.   Present-day me would have beat the shit out of him.  Present-day me would have raised the kind of hell most people could only imagine the devil himself could conjure.

IT WASN’T FAIR THAT I HAD TO HAVE THAT HAPPEN

IT WASN’T FAIR THAT I HAD TO LISTEN TO HIM CALL ME A FAG AS HE TRIED TO FORCE ME TO SUCK HIS DICK

IT WASN’T FAIR THAT I HAD TO HEAR HIM CALL ME A FAG EVERYDAY AFTER THAT

IT WASN’T FAIR THAT HE COULD TELL EVERYONE A FAKE STORY BECAUSE HE KNEW THEY WOULD BELIEVE HIM OVER ME

IT WASN’T FAIR THAT I HAD TO LIVE BEING AFRAID OF GETTING BEAT UP THE REST OF THE SUMMER

THE BOTTOM LINE IS THAT IT WASN’T FAIR.  IT WASN’T RIGHT, AND IT ISN’T JUSTIFIABLE

I called the sexual assault hotline and spoke to a consoler on the phone last night.  I told her the story and asked if I had a right to be mad.  I was wondering if I was being a drama queen, or if I was correct in my new recognition of this event.  I told her that when I think of rape I think of some girl who gets jumped in the woods and is gang-banged or something….but this event also felt like it was so wrong.   She told me over the phone that I had every right to be angry.  She said this was a violation and that I wasn’t being a drama queen.

It felt good.  It felt really really good actually.  After having everyone tell me it was my fault the entire summer.  After having myself believe that it wasn’t a big deal and that it’s just something you have to go through as a gay person… it just felt amazing for someone to actually sit there and say, NO.  BE MAD.  You’re allowed to be mad.   There was such relief and such power in it.

So to anyone out there who has had something bad happen to them, BE MAD.  YOU ARE ALLOWED.  I don’t care if it was sexual assault, physical violence, emotional abuse, or anything else.  If someone has treated you like you’re sub-human, you can be mad.  It is your right to be mad.

And if anyone is dealing with a similar issue, please call a sexual assault hotline and just talk about it.  The woman who spoke to me was insanely nice.  They don’t judge or get mad at you.  You are free to talk about anything you want.

And furthermore if anyone is hurting for any reason remember that there are crisis lines all across the world.

Below is a link to all the crisis lines across the globe ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS talk about it with people.  It helps so much:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_suicide_crisis_lines

 

I sincerely thank you for reading this post,

~ The Dark Horse

… sorry it wasn’t proofread well

Hope. Its What We Have To Have

 

gay

 

So in the wake of Orlando I think its time to talk about hope.  As a gay guy from America I have to say this weekend killed me a little inside.    Not only was there a horrific attack against the LGBT community but now everyone and their fucking mother are trying to pretend like this had nothing to do with the gay community.

Dear straight religious people, at some point you’ll have to accept this was a product of the culture you’ve created and enforced.    Do you know what its called when there is a hate crime…. hate crime? hahaha…. this was actually a fucking massacre…. but anyways:

Do you know what its called when a hate crime is committed and everyone turns a blind eye?  Thats called OPPRESSION you cunts.

Was this man crazy?  Yes.  

And did he have access to guns because America is an insane shithole with flimsy laws?  Yes.

But would this attack have happened if this man was raised in a culture that didn’t teach him to hate gays?… Well now, there’s a question for you….

gay1

 

But enough about those cunts who are downplaying what just happened this post isn’t for them.  This post is about what to do now.

 

 

This is one of those instances that was about death.  We suffered and mourned the loss of 49 lives.  But after mourning comes an intense desire to live.

And thats exactly what I have.  I have a big fork in the road coming up in my life and dammit I want to make the most of it.

 

I want to live.  I want to really really live. I want to find love, adventure, friendship, joy, humor, and excitement! I want to make an impact on this world!  I want to finally stop being dragged through life and finally start actually living.  Because unfortunately, with the world we live in, you never know when you may be dancing at a club when all of the sudden you and everyone around are on the floor bleeding to death.  

 

Need some inspiration?   Ok well look at this:

gay3

This is Hawaii 

gay5

This is an actual castle in Germany

gay6

This is a real beach in Thailand 

Why are we looking at these?  Well because over the weekend we saw what horror, bloodshed, and hate looked like.   What we to remember is that there is still so much beauty in the world.   Life still holds meaning, joy, and love.   Adventure is still out there, its just waiting to be found.

Take all the pain and hurt from this weekend and lets mold it from mourning, into passion.    Remember to live life to the fullest.   To embrace every single moment because you never know when it may be your last.

Tonight before you go to bed, hug your mom.   Or your flatmate…  or fuck, hug your dog.   They love being hugged!   Just show someone you care.   Embrace and feel the love!

gay10

~ The Dark Horse

(I would have proofread this, but I was too busy looking at this picture of how amazing the world really is)