Tuesday, June 6, 2017

Community


A few months ago, I made a confession to a few friends about how I’d been battling an eating disorder. In my endless efforts to be thin, I’d basically stopped eating. I don’t know that you’d officially call it anorexia, but I was limiting myself to 1,000 calories or less each day. Occasionally, after going days with barely any food, I’d have some ridiculous binge, then get myself in a spiral of hating myself for what I’d done. Then, back to limiting intake. Repeat cycle.

After suffering 3 broken ribs on 3 separate instances over the course of the summer and realizing I might be a bit malnourished, I sort of snapped out of it. Sort of. I began reaching out to friends for support and maybe a little validation that what I was doing was probably not the best idea. What I got in return was a little surprising.

Each time I confided in a gay male friend about what was happening, instead of getting support, or even just a little love back, the response I received was some version of, “You could live on less than 1,000 calories a day!! And function?!! That’s awesome!! I wish I could do that”.

Yes. People both congratulated me and were jealous of my eating disorder. Thankfully, even in that moment, I had enough presence of mind to know that’s messed up.

It’s no real secret that body image issues are prevalent among gay men. So, I know I’m not at all alone in my struggles, even though some days it feels like it. And, it’s a thing that I can go days without thinking about at all, only to have it come screaming back while walking through a mall or seeing an ad. In fact, in an effort to stave off the negative thought spiral, and despite my interest (heightened even more of late) in all things political, I’ve started throwing my issues of The Advocate and Out directly into the recycling bin. I just can’t handle seeing the images that tell me what I’m supposed to look like and knowing I’ll never reach that standard.

It’s that political interest and our current need for making our voices heard that makes me feel especially conflicted about Pride this year. The part of me that is 100% here for #TheResistance is ready to take to the streets. But, I also feel like I’m probably not welcome there.

I’ve never felt especially comfortable in gay spaces. I don’t know that I especially fit into one particular gay “tribe” and I certainly don’t look like that ideal image that’s been pushed on me/us. So, being in the gayest of gay spaces, a Pride event, seems a little masochistic.

And don’t get me wrong, I totally get the easy counterpoint here. Be your own party. If they ain’t payin’ yo’ bills, pay them bitches no mind. I get it. Obviously, it’s easier said than done.

I also know it’s incredibly self-absorbed of me to think that anyone else is paying any attention to me. In reality, I could probably show up to an event and no one is going to look my way. I also know this feeling would be intensified if were a person of color or trans.

But, as much as I want to dismiss it, I also know there’s some traction to this feeling that we, as gay men, are supposed to look a certain way. And, from what we’re pitched, if we don’t meet that standard, then we should probably just crawl back under whatever rock we crawled out of.

So, that’s my conundrum. How do I go into what’s supposed to be my community and find community when I feel like an outcast?