We don't speak the same language

Interesting post, Stairs! And it gives me a chance to comment using my amateur homespun schemata-focused psychological ideas! ;-)

I think we all behave and speak differently to each other in varied contexts of daily life, based on who we are, ie what we know about life from being individuals who have had unique experiences. I also think our behaviour patterns can be reinforced within us by repetition of our actions and our own expectations of what will be typical for every specific social context.

Maybe there's more confusion when gay people meet, as we've pretty much had to devise our own rules, rarely having had any role models for how to behave in "gay" contexts. (Yes, I know it's a cliché, but that doesn't mean it's wrong.)

I agree with what you've written, Stairs; men on the scene constantly sadden me with their ultra-defensively agressive behaviour (which is clearly how their brains are telling them to behave). And there are so many of them! No wonder people who don't want to behave like that often avoid the scene. I personally find that it makes it very hard sometimes to be accepting of people having different ways to communicate on the scene, but if I keep telling myself that I won't be affected, then I won't be. And I've survived the last ten years OK; the question is, though: has it been worth the fight?

David

Not the amateur homespun schemata-focused psychological ideas - gaah!

It is curious how guilty I come to feel when making such observations, as they certainly don't apply to the masses, but the numbers that it does involve can be staggering.

It just strikes me as odd that people who are markedly different to the average heterosexual on the one front feel that, by proxy, they must be markedly different on every other level too. It's tantamount to denying, or at least choosing to ignore, that an equally rich diversity of lifestyles exists outside of sexual orientation.

So I don't adore Kylie, you don't enjoy running, pfft. It's as ridiculous as the people who think that just because two guys or girls are gay, they have something in common and are surely going to become friends.

*drily* So, not all gay people like broadway, worship Cher and throw _fabulous_ parties? */drily*

I never understood the Kylie thing myself. I have quite a few straight male friends who a smitten with her and another few gay friends who loathe her. Go figure.

Though I can say one thing, some people are so caught up being gay that it's all they are. Go figure that one too.

As for amateur homespun schemata-focused psychological ideas, here's one on being twenty:

"We become increasingly trapped in roles that we never chose, student, son, daughter, cousin, uncle, aunt, straight, gay/lesbian and so we suffer. But we suffer because the alternative is too harsh. We choose to suffer because of respect, or because of the absence of it, we choose to suffer for a myriad of reasons that we never chose to accept, love, hate, poverty, philanthrophy, compassion, cruelty... but most of all, because of judgement.

We toil and wail against our burdens, trying to hold together who we are in the midst of coping against all this responsibility, all this judgement. And we judge those that throw it off, that behave 'stupidly', that choose not to be a son or daughter, that choose not to be straight or choose not to be gay, or that choose to have not to be a student, to drop out, or choose not to be a part of the nuclear family. We judge them because we don't want to be judged ourselves.

But in the middle of it all, in its very midst, perhaps we lose ourselves little by little. Making rent, pleasing the father, loving the mother, raising the kid, fulfilling the assignment. We lose ourselves and little by little it becomes who we are. It's not easy being twenty, we proclaim, citing problems and responsibilities, opening our trendy little bags to pull out tax returns (which we don't know how to fill), bills (which we haven't paid) and assignments (which we haven't done).

We forget who we are in the midst of all that we do. What we like, who we like, what we stand for becomes irrelevant in the name of work. "Oh, I HATE that guy," she exclaims, only to submit her resume and application form for his company a week later. "But I need the job and the money," she admits.

Self-worth gives way to 'necessity', beliefs and pride gives way to 'business'. And some of us, the one's that never make it out of the bills and the responsibilities and the assignments and the parents and the sex and the loans and the rest of the bills, those never make it, those become what they do and not what they are. They swallow the bitter pill and give up themselves into what they have to do and in doing so they become what they've always thought, always prayed that they'd never become. It's not easy being twenty."

Can you feel my frustration? Right. Off to work again.

Oh, and in other news (this is more of an explanation as to my feelings of frustration than anything else): My parents are separating yet again. One would think that I would be immune to the idea by now, but somehow it still screws me up each time. You just never do get used to it. Welcome to the modern family, screwed up kids to your right and freakshow parents to your left.

Which brings me to believe this in argument: Sometimes, people don't have the emotional support and relationships that they need at home or elsewhere, so the feeling of being an outsider pervades so much and so strongly that they need to fit in somewhere. In fact, they want to fit in anywhere. A sense of belonging is important to any human being. For those people who have had that need fulfilled by parents or siblings or family, perhaps it is of little consequences; but for others, it may become all consuming. We are social animals after all.

But far be it from me to preach how they should be treated.

While I personally think that a sense of belonging is highly overrated, I often do find myself sometimes wanting someone to talk to... but whether it arises from a need to belong or rather from my frustration from being unable to be completely open with even my closest friends is another matter altogether.

But of course, as has been pointed out before, this never does necessarily apply to everyone. Some people are just attention seekers for no other reason than the fact that they love the attention themselves. My experience has been however that it often rises from overcompensation for personal insecurities, of which sometimes even I am liable to.

Another thought for today. It is often the quiet ones in the group who, when they do speak their minds, are goldmines of accurate observation. Not to throw in the cliche that still waters run deep; but often the more introspective of people seek not to categorize other people as people are most wont to do but instead in their observations, look at the other person and try to, with brutal honesty, find that part of themselves which best relates to the observed's actions and thus understand them with greater clarity. We are more similar than we like to think.

After all, it is only when we see ourselves reflected in the eyes of others that we truly realize who we are or who we've become.

By way of a compliment, I wish that I had said all that; I would echo your position in its entirety.

For what it is worth, sorry about your family. I know how it feels to see things torn apart. Some of the memories most vividly frozen in my childhood mind are of violence and fear. I wish it were images of the overwhelmingly good parts of my early youth that lingered, but they don't; an unfortunate function of the human mind. Then, I wouldn't change anything, hindsight is a healer.

" A poof who expects compassion, but has none to give." A rather common and sad irony I have experienced within the gay culture on many occasions. The gay culture does perplex and frustrate me so. So many masks that are worn by some wonderful people trying to fit in. The problem is that when one wears a mask for so long, ones face molds to that mask, and adopts that persona.

To be honest, I have never fully immersed myself in the "gay culture". Before I moved to England a couple years ago, I never really went out on the "scene". I enjoy hitting the scene every now and again, for it does provide a bit of comfort zone to be surrounded by fellow gays. But I could never be a "scene queen". I choose to define myself, not let a superficial culture (though I believe a very vital culture, albeit in need of some reformation, but that is an entirely different discussion for another time) define me, from what I wear to my basest mannerism.

Oh, if there were only more genuine gay guys. Perhaps one day.