Why Pride Can Never Lose It's Protest History

Gabriel Fernandez, 8 years old

Ronnie Parris, 3 years old

Anthony Avalos, 10 years old

Giovanni Melton, 14 years old

Itaberli Lozano, 17 years old

Alireza “Ali” Fazeli Monfared, 20 years old

Amir Issa, 38 years old

And every single other LGBTQ+ child who has been brutally murdered by their own family, either for their sexuality or perceived sexuality. 

Leelah Alcorn, 17 years old

Jamel Myles, 9 years old

Justin Aaberg, 15 years old

Andrew Leach, 12 years old

Jadin Bell, 15 years old

Nigel Shelby, 15 years old

Channing Smith, 16 years old

Tyler Clementi, 18 years old

Avinshu Patel, 19 years old

And every single other LGBTQ+ child who has taken their own life due to bullying and self hatred instilled by our cishet culture. 

Matthew Sheppard, 21 years old

Charles Howard, 23 years old

Reecey Walker, 32 years old

David P., 42 years old

Sophie Váquez, 36 years old

Harvey Milk, 48 years old

Brandon Teena, 21 years old

Scott Johnson, 27 years old

Billy Jack Gaither, 39 years old

Bree Black, 27 years old 

And every other LGBTQ+ person who has been brutally killed for living their life.

For every LGBTQ+ child who has died on the streets, scared and alone. For every one of our youth who had to turn to selling their bodies to eat, who got hooked on drugs to numb the pain, who was beaten by a John, or died from hunger or disease, while laying in an alley.

The countless LGBTQ+ lives we have lost, both famous and not, during the early years of the HIV/AIDS crisis, as our government sat back and watched us die. For the countless LGBTQ+ lives we have lost since then to this virus, who are continously let down, time and time again.

As long as we are dying, Pride can never be allowed to be just a party. It has to remain a protest movement, or we will have let them defeat us.

We Need to Stop Blaming the Victims

I've started this post off with about 17 different opening lines so far, but none of them have been able to get across my deep seated frustration at what I see happening to victims of sexual harassment and assault. Frankly, frustration is probably too mild of a term. Seething anger may be a more apt description of how I feel. All too often, even when the victims are believed, they are still blamed for what happened to them. They are told they shouldn't have put themselves in that situation, they should have dressed differently, they should have had less to drink, they simply misunderstood, or a myriad of other bullshit excuses, designed to shift the blame onto the victim, instead of the perpetrator. How about we start holding those who can't keep their hands to themselves, responsible for their own behavior?  Let's stop making excuses. Stop saying boys will be boys, as if rape and harassment are inherent to being a man. Stop saying it's locker room talk. Quit gaslighting victims. Why do we place so much of the responsibility and the guilt onto those who were exploited and hurt, all the while doing everything we can to protect the one responsible for the damage?

I could split this post off into several different tangents, including how when the victim is man, we treat them even worse, but I won't, because it all comes down to the same thing. We need to stop acting like the victim is responsible for bringing down these powerful men, and women, and start blaming the perpetrators themselves for ending their own careers. 

We need to do better.

We have to do better.

Let's Talk About Sex, Or At Least About Sexuality - Mainly Mine

 

Let's have a frank talk about sexuality.  I'm going to get personal,  and you will probably learn things about me that you really didn't want to know,  so if this isn't a conversation you want to be involved in, just skip this post.  I actually first posted this on my Facebook page, so if you already read it there, I apologize for subjecting it to you twice. Actually I don't, but I thought I should say that.

I identify as a gay man.

Prepubescent Ryan, had more crushes on boys, than on girls. I do think those kind of crushes have more to do with personality, than gender at that stage in our lives. I would try to catch glimpses of men's dicks in public bathrooms. I did steal a pack of topless women playing cards once, though the glimpses of Playgirl magazines were more interesting to me.  

Once I hit puberty, men are all that I paid attention to. I wanted to lick, suck, fuck, touch, and play with every inch of a man's body. I had a lot of sex, with a lot of men. The number of men should be embarrassing, hence the reason I won't put it out there, but I'm not ashamed of it. It is what it was. Do I wish I had met THE ONE? Absolutely. But even if I had, which that is for me to know and you to never find out, it wouldn't have mattered. I was too damn immature, and frankly enjoying the attention too much, to not fuck it up.  That is another post though, I'm not ready to get into my body image and self-esteem issues right now. 

The sweaty sex that can last all night, is not the only reason I identify as a gay man. I am mentally, emotionally, and spiritually attracted to cismen, at least so far. At 44 years old, I've never been sexually attracted to a woman, nor had sex with one.  I've made out a few times, kissing and breast fondling, but that's it. The breast play never went underneath clothes, or involved nipples. Truthfully, the fact it even happened had more to do with alcohol and those specific situations, which also included other men, than any true attraction. It also never happened once my early clubbing days were over with.  To be even more truthful, I felt nothing. I may as well been brushing my teeth. 

As I've aged, while I still identify as a gay man, I've also come to identify as demisexual. And eventhough it may be hard to believe, given my dashing looks and ripped body (said with pure sarcasm), I've actually been celibate for almost 18 years now, by choice. I've gotten to the point where I have to be mentally and/or emotionally attracted to a guy first, before I truly find them physically attractive enough to want to get sweaty with them. Since I don't go out, or even make the attempt to meet guys in a situation where that can happen, I've been celibate. I can still look at a hot guy, and admire the scenery, but I have no desire to do any licking or sucking. Hence, why I also identify myself as demi. I still get off on porn, though it has more to do with the physical and endorphin release, than it does with actuall attraction.

The fact that I identify as a demi gay man, brings me to the point of this post. I tend to have random thoughts, like we all do, and while part of what I'm about to say is something I've always accepted about myself, the thought I had last night was completely new. It's also the aspect that I brought up in a conversation with Viki, that inspired this post. I accepted, years ago, the fact that just because I identify as a gay man, as a demi gay man, that doesn't mean it will always be that way. I'm comfortable with myself enough that if I ever do find myself mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and physically attracted to a woman, a transwoman, or a transman, I'm not going to hurt myself by not accepting that attraction. I'm not going to let how I currently identify, keep me from being happy. I don't think it's probable, but I know that it's possible. To reject that, makes absolutely no sense. 

My point is this, sexuality is not stagnant, at least not in the way I view it. It's already evolved for me, and I know it may evolve again. And while I think labels are important, for a myriad of reasons, I also think we can end up using them as barriers when we find ourselves reacting in ways that run counterintuitive to those labels. I personally choose to use labels, for both personal and political reasons, and I probably always will. I'm starting to wonder if I should, could, or even can start using a different label. I'm not sure I can call myself pan, just because I acknowledge the idea that I could find myself attracted to someone who is not a cisman, while never actually experiencing attraction to anyone else. Nor do I necessarily feel a need to right now, but it's something I've at least thought about. Even if it was just once.