The one that goes, “I’m a man trapped in a woman’s body, but that man is gay, so nobody ever really noticed.”
Used to get a real kick out of that joke, mainly because it sort of applied to me. But as time goes on, and you’re not a 14 year old anymore, and you start to grow up and figure yourself out, you really start to realize the difference between SEXUAL ORIENTATION and GENDER IDENTITY.
That joke hasn’t been funny in years, because I realized just how fucking wrong it was.
You’d think it was, but being a gay man in a woman’s body isn’t really that much of a blessing, especially when you’re a bear. In fact, it makes things a lot more complicated, particularly when you’re trying to come off as male to people who DON’T really differentiate gender and orientation.
I love dominating men. Women are a piece of cake most of the time, but when you put yourself on top of what should be macho, you feel like king of the world.
I guess I happen to be with a guy right now. Now, he does love to crossdress, and he loves to be on bottom, so he’s really the one wearing the skirt in the relationship, but he ultimately identifies as a male. My god, though, he’s so perfect. The first time he ever met me, and I told him straight exactly what was going on in my life, he just pretty much shrugged and said “I’m good with that.” He never questions, never second-guesses, always trusts, and he GETS it. I will never find a better match.
My main problem is my dad. Getting him to see me as male has been really fucking hard, and I get that feeling that if he knew I was with a guy, everything I’ve built with him would crumble and he’d just think, “Well, there’s no point in saying ‘she’s’ a guy since ‘she’s’ STRAIGHT.” So my life partner has been my “best friend” ever since my dad’s known him, even though I know it’d probably tickle my dad pink to find out that, even though I’m a “crossdresser,” I’m “straight.” I don’t think he’ll ever get it.
The truth is, my identity as a male is more important than being seen as gay, straight, or whatever. Even if it WOULD dissapoint my dad if he thought I was going out with girls, I’d rather him think that if it meant he still saw me as a guy. But is this wrong? Hiding my relationship with the most important person in my life from my dad just to prove my credibility? Does it even matter WHAT my dad thinks of me if he still isn’t seeing the whole truth, if I’m still hiding?
The other night, before my parents left for Kentucky, we had a family dinner and my babe was here. It’s the worst thing in the world when you turn and, without hardly thinking about it, go in for a kiss, then stop just inches from his face. Time slows, eyes locked, and you have to look away, not just to hide your love from those who might tear it down, but to hide your shame from your lover that you even consider it something you have to hide at all. I could feel his hurt, and it hurt me, too. Why should I be afraid of being seen as gay if I’m already a fuck-up in my parent’s eyes, anyway?
“I heard a joke once. Man goes to doctor. Says he’s depressed. Says life is harsh and cruel. Says he feels all alone in a threatening world. Doctor says, ‘Treatment is simple. The great clown Pagliacci is in town tonight. Go see him. That should pick you up.’ Man bursts into tears. Says, ‘But doctor… I am Pagliacci.’ Good joke. Everybody laughs. Roll on snare drum. Curtains.”