Better Off DADT
06.15.10
Before all the gays in the military get up in arms about it, let me explain myself. When I assert that one might be better off DADT, it’s only because the declaration of a divergent sexual orientation can create a dynamic that isolates and confines one to a predetermined role. Whenever a straight man, regardless of how attractive he might be, learns that another fellow is homosexually inclined, his immediate reaction is to believe that this man suddenly wants to sex him. The reverse can be true for the homosexual who can misinterpret friendly straight men as being curious or secretly gay and sexually interested in them. Sometimes it is true, sometimes it is not. Regardless, the declaration itself propagates a very narrowly defined definition of how the relationship can proceed, each with their place and always with the homosexual in an apologetic position, sometimes on his knees, or an aggressive one, again on his knees.
Granted, I don’t think that it’s constitutional to discharge qualified soldiers based on their sexual orientation, but I also don’t think it’s necessary for soldiers of a homosexual inclination to feel the need to declare their sexual proclivity. The question truly becomes whether or not someone should hide it. The answer lies in whether there might be benefit in doing so. Surely, one shouldn’t have to do so, but let’s get real, bigotry exists and will not disappear simply because people start living in the open. It will only vanish when it becomes a moot point. Part of that genesis is rooted in preserving some sort of restraint over disclosing you sexual desires. Bigots must recalibrate their attitude only when someone they love suddenly reveals a sexual bent they once despised and must choose between a cherished friend and an archaic perspective.
Furthermore, for each soldier, they must choose the experience they desire to have in the military. Surely, clinging to your sexual identity as the most important will lead to a separatist attitude, seeking out others of your ilk. Suddenly, your band of brothers becomes fragmented and you cordon yourself off from the highest camaraderie possible. Does it really matter whether you praise a soldier for tapping some ass or some woman that anyone would recognize as a conquest? I only ask the question, because I must determine how I’ll behave and to what degree I’ll align myself with my fellow soldiers. However, I am lucky as an omnisexual. I can truly relish in my brothers sexual pursuits at the same time I harbor divergent ones of my own. Do I feel the need to commiserate on those? Hell no.
I’m surprised that I’ve come to adopt this mentality. I don’t think I would have a few years ago or without having traversed the sexual wastelands of a somewhat sober five months. I used to believe in declaring my sexuality with a fervor that stilled into more appropriate moments of shock and dismay. I can understand the shame of a hidden secret and the desire to be accepted wholly for who you are. It fades though. I am not concerned about what someone else believes about me or whether they might accept my sexual tastes. To be honest, I’d rather hide it at times because it can be limiting for it to surface. Being an omnisexual, I just rest on the other side of my sexuality and share whatever proclivity is appropriate. I recognize how fortunate I am in being able to retain a shred of sincerity in all situations, but I wish I had chosen more wisely in the recent past.
I’ve been contemplating this dynamic for one reason and one reason alone, my friendship with my personal trainer. I find myself enjoying his company much more with each occasion that we spend time with each other. If I was foolish, I’d fall for him. But I’ve gained some wisdom in the gap that is twelve years between us and realize that there is a drastic difference between feeling the warmth of friendship and burning with the passion of sexual embrace. I’ve never felt the latter for him, but the dull ache of friendly adoration does burn brightly. So instead of wishing to see him erect and on top of me, I find the desire to promote his interests, aid in securing his dreams and be a support in any way I can. I imagine it might be what a father could feel for his son, though I do not look down upon him as such.
I see him as an equal, especially when his words have challenged me to face myself in new ways. My last interaction with him begot another challenge and a great regret. I wish he never knew of my sexual desires for men, or at least not from the outset.
We recently spent close to ten hours together, nonstop. I was assisting him on an entrance essay and he was attending a dinner hosted by two of my best friends in Seattle. They happen to have been a couple for over twenty years and are a great inspiration to me. When we showed up at their house, I was greeted by a birthday celebration that obviously took some time and effort to put together. As busy as they are, it warmed my heart to have them honor me as such. With my buddy along for the ride, it turned into an incredible evening of great food, laughs and awesome stories. Afterward, we went back to his apartment to hammer out the last details of the essay, staying up until the wee hours of the morning.
Whether it was because he was tired or because he was beginning to be more comfortable around me, a side of him came out that I didn’t expect. He’s a total goof. He was making me laugh like crazy. I could have been tired too, but there was a problem with our banter. It was decidedly sexual in nature, me being the aggressor and him being the defender of his sacred anal virginity. However, it wasn’t that I wished to break him down and engage in sexual antics. Quite the opposite, I desired the intimacy of friendly interaction and jibing each other with joke after joke. Because he sees me as a homosexual more than an omnisexual and is certain in being straight, we’ve been handed a preordained arrangement.
Granted I played into the role as much as he did, but it was the rules of the game. After having left him that night, I was crestfallen. I hated that I had allowed that sort of banter to be the one to dominate the evening. I had let it happen because I was afraid that sincere and friendly intimacy might be misconstrued for amorous intentions of a degree that simply does not exist. There’s a sacred bond between men that I’ve known from both sides, as a “straight” man and as a “homosexual”. I’d much rather engage in that “straight” dynamic. I find it much more rewarding and intensely more intimate. I have the unique opportunity to do as such because of my sexual orientation as an omnisexual. I wish I’d done so with my personal trainer. I think we’d be much better off as friends and there wouldn’t be that ever-present suspicion between us both of questioning whether he yearns to be more than just friends.