THEGAYUK

Category: Comment

  • OPINION | Fat?

    Recently, myself and a friend had a photo taken with a celebrity; he was a reality TV star, porn performer and current member of the dream boys.

    He was sunbathing when we met him and was wearing only a pair of shorts. I was wearing an open shirt and a t-shirt underneath. Of course, he was really charming and looked great and I joked with him and my friends that this would be great for my self-esteem. This would prove worryingly accurate.

    Let me just explain, I’ve always been confident in my own body, I’m not chubby I’m not big boned. I’m fat. I’ve always been overweight since being a teenager and it had been a journey to become comfortable in my own skin. I’ve not exactly led a lazy lifestyle; I didn’t have a car so I walked everywhere. I previously enjoyed hiking and would often walk 10 miles without breaking a sweat. I’m a bigger guy but I’m healthy. I had tried joining gyms and different exercise classes. I even experimented on every fad diet over the years and my body has altered but I’ve accepted that whatever I try I will always be a little bit fat. This can put me at odds within the gay community as I don’t exactly fit into any category, I’m never going to be wearing skinny jeans and a tight t-shirt but apparently I’m not big enough to be a chub.

    Since I stopped fighting this and accepting this I’ve become more confident as a person, like my sexuality; it’s who I am. When I first met my boyfriend and began dating I asked if he was a chubby chaser in a jokey manner. He responded that he thought this was an offensive term and that I wasn’t fat. He said that he loved my body and would hate for me to lose weight. I obviously love him.

    A few years ago I had joined a local gym to get in shape for a hike that I was doing for charity. I was offered a free session with a personal trainer to show me how to work out properly. During the session he made several remarks about how my self-confidence would increase as I lost weight. He also said if I was single, that if I was more toned than I would have no problems with the ladies, After one remark too many I told him I wasn’t that interested in what weight I was or how fat I am, I was there to get healthier for the task of raising money for cancer research, I stated to him that I probably had a better body image than most of his clients if his idea of coaching was to call them fat, I also told him I was gay, know your audience.

    Coming back to the here and now, I am still confident in myself and the body that I own, realistically I’m not a stripper or model, the only six pack I will ever own will be beer. I don’t train every day nor am I ever likely to. Of course I have had snide remarks from vicious queens over the years because of my size but they don’t live in the skin. The only opinion I truly care about is the person who stares back at me in the mirror, because I have to look him in the eye for the rest of my life.

    Confidence is not an absolute it is a state of mind. I had a wobble and momentarily compared myself against someone else and came up short in my own mind. So what did I do? A couple of days later I was supposed to go swimming before work but felt unmotivated to get up.

    I talked to myself sternly, it’s ok to feel unhappy with your body from time to time, but there is only you that have the power to make any change mentally and physically. I used the negative energy to drag my arse out of bed and into the pool.

     

    Opinions expressed in this article may not reflect those of THEGAYUK, its management or editorial teams. If you’d like to comment or write a comment, opinion or blog piece, please click here.

  • COLUMN | Sunset Strip

    Cabaret and burlesque is currently making a big impact on the entertainment scene. Watching some quite subversive cabaret the other night, I began to think about nudity. A beautiful woman had just stripped to her underwear and was putting the tit-tassels to good use. Usually, I watch a show and think: ‘I could do that!’ As the tap dancers reach a frenetic climax, the actor hits his dramatic high point or the trapeze artist spins on his aerial swing; I like to think that give or take a couple of lessons, I’d be great at doing this.

    Of course this isn’t true at all. I’m terribly clumsy, have no acting talent and am no good with heights. This fantasy of my own performing ability does not emerge when I watch strip tease. I know I couldn’t do this, ever. The reason being this: I have no desire to exhibit my naked body. Stripping is not for me.

    As a teenager, I loitered shyly on the gay scene and the weekly schedule in the small city where I lived included a drag act on a Wednesday night and Sunday afternoon. Bingo on a Sunday night and a stripper on a Friday. I became pretty blasé about their naked bodies gyrating in a small back street bar. Swinging cocks splashed baby oil over a bar full of men who were just tipsy enough to not be too worried about getting the stains out of their best Burtons Menswear jackets. There was always a local vicar who had barged to the front for a good eyeful, craning his neck and applauding with gusto as he leered at the sun bed orange flesh.

    The routines were often samey and on the more obvious and tacky side of ‘fantasy’. The three foot stage would be peopled by unconvincing policemen, cheap and stained ‘An Officer and a Gentleman’ air force pilots and construction workers who were so manicured that they had clearly never seen a cement mixer. The routines were mostly the same and give or take an inch here and there, the physiques varied very little with their inflated muscular, just the wrong side of deformity, and their rubber band constricted penises. There was the odd exception.
    On one notable occasion a hulking man pulled out a cucumber from his obligatory giant holdall, bent down on all fours and rammed it straight up his sphincter. This was fine and earned a healthy hum of approval. Approval turned to horror as he pulled the said fruit back out of his arse and bit the end of it off. A bar full of slightly uptight gay men gasped in unison and considered the food hygiene implications. Of course, there was always talk of the odd performer who over stepped the mark with audience participation, but I never witnessed this, which I have no regrets about.

    There’s nothing wrong with cheap back street bars, ropey strippers or the joys of the hen party crowd. In all its place and its own particular and unique merits. Striptease can also be a real art form and burlesque (and indeed Boy-lesque) combines the art of dance, glamour, drag and strip to make an often dazzling spectacle. Just don’t ask me to do it. I’ll be the one dashing to cover myself with a towel in the changing rooms.

  • COLUMN | Stay Lucky

    This month disco chart duo Daft Punk tweeted a picture their own range of condoms. The “Get Lucky” range is named after their recent hit and the packaging features the cover art from their latest album “Random Access Memories”.

    At first it was thought that this was a promotion with Durex, however they have stated that they are not involved. This maybe a cheeky bit of self-promotion or clever marketing synergy however it has got people talking about the band.

    This is not the first time musicians or bands have promoted condoms.

    In 2011, glam rock icons Kiss launched a range of their own condoms. The initial design featured Gene Simmons legendary tongue across the- ahem- length of the product. Although they passed all the relevant safety tests and requirements that condoms are required to, they were very much a novelty item based around the link between rock and roll and sex. They were licensed as an official kiss product. Wills and Kate, David Beckham and Mischa Barton have found themselves on condom wrappers although these are unofficial products.

    On the more serious side of the spectrum, Lady Gaga dressed as a giant condom on breakfast television in America promoting safe sex. Outrageous.

    Popular boy band and reality TV stars JLS released their own range of condoms last year. At the time this certainly raised some eyebrows due to the young age of their fan base. The band were partnered with Durex for this campaign and saw each member of the group have their photo and individual colour scheme on a wrapper. In comparison to the other examples, The JLS condom range was released as part of the Just Love Safe campaign through the JLS foundation, a charity the band had set up to empower and excite young people. The sales from the condoms went back into the foundation. The press release at the time stated that the UK had the highest rate of teen STI’s in Europe.

    Realistically we live in an age of celebrity, whether it’s for talent, ability or simply good positioning, ordinary people are elevated into positions of notoriety and that’s really what celebrity endorsements are all about, bringing attention to both the celebrity and the product being sold. Some will use that fame responsibly to promote important causes such as safer sex.

    Celebrities maybe used as a mouthpiece to promote different causes because on some level we may respect them, but when it really comes to safe sex does it matter?

    Realistically the only person you need to have respect for is yourself. Does it matter what a singer from a TV programme thinks about your sexual health? You are in control.

    The Gay UK’s No Excuse project is about you having that control. It means that condoms, lube and sexual health screening are all available online. If you are self-conscious about buying protection or just struggle to afford them, the option for you to get help and support is there. It’s not about following trends. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks as long as you are protecting yourself.
    www.noexcuseproject.co.uk

  • COLUMN | Insecure Me

    My insecurities are boundless. They seem to straddle all the domains: physical, social and intellectual. I’m even insecure about other people’s emotional sturdiness.

    I went to the theatre yesterday and sat next to a very well groomed actress. We got talking (how else would I know she was an actress?) and it turned out that she sees more theatre than me. Her breadth of knowledge was extensive and her ability to critique was impressive. Naturally, I felt a little inferior. She was stylish and had poise and I felt like a crumpled sweaty heap in a theatre which sorely lacked air conditioning. As I sweated and reddened she gracefully flicked a stylish fan across her unblemished face.

    Sitting at a cafe in Hyde Park later, I noticed a well groomed gay couple sitting at the table next to us. They spoke in clipped tones, dripped money from every pore and made me feel slightly shabby in my chain store clothes and with my flat Midlands vowels. As I got latte foam all over my cheeks they daintily sipped their tea.

    Walking by us was a very handsome man with his girlfriend. Naturally, I had to appraise him. It’s the duty of the gay man. He had broad muscular shoulders, a chiselled jaw and striking eyes. He also had a better head of hair than my thinning mane, model good looks and a dominant way of striding forward. Of course, I felt inferior and my insecurities rose to the fore again as I contemplated my weedy upper arms and face which could only model as a ‘before’ in an advert for cosmetic surgery.

    Thinking back later, I felt a rush of satisfaction as I wracked my brains to look for these perfect specimens’ feet of clay. The actress sat in the wrong seat in the theatre, initially and displayed a clumsy gaucheness, apologetically fumbling her way back to the correct seat. Of course she’s an expert in theatre too. It doesn’t make her next in line for a Nobel Prize. It’s just that theatre is her business. Ask her questions on my chosen career subject and she’s have surely floundered. The well groomed gay couple were perfectly poised in the cafe but as we left the park we saw them walking purposefully, several feet apart. They’d clearly had a row and their body language positively screamed pent up rage and resentment. Speaking like a BBC announcer and wearing good clothes does not equate happiness. As for the dishy bloke: he passed us again and the rear view was less than appetising. He had childbearing hips and a set of buttocks that would have fed a family of four for a week.

    I wonder why I feel the need to compete, to mentally compare myself and score points. Maybe it’s evolutionary, maybe just societal. Whatever the case, if we meet then you can sure I’ll be looking for your flaws. You know what though; I’ll like you so much for having them.

  • How gay is X Men?

    X-men the gay metaphor.

    This month sees the release of “The Wolverine”. Marking the 6th time that Hugh Jackman has portrayed the character on screen. His portrayal of the physically unbreakable muscle bear obviously has attracted a huge gay fan base, but this is not uncommon for the characters from Marvel’s Mighty Mutants.

    The X-men series actually debuted back in 1963, unlike other heroes at the time who were human and gained their powers through radiation, the X-Men were a different species that carried the “X” gene that granted their powers. They were born that way baby.

    The series initially focused on five straight white American teenagers who attended the “Xavier School For Gifted Youngsters”. The team would operate in costume to conceal their real identities, in day to day life they would take lengths to conceal their unique abilities for fear of being outed as mutants. Most of their parents were even unaware of the true purpose of the Xavier School, thinking it was just a finishing school. It was a series about diversity and tolerances as long as you were willing to look and act like a “regular” person.

    All of this changed in 1975 with Giant Size x-men #1. The team became an international collection of Mutants. Wolverine, a yellow-cla Canadian secret agent was introduced to the team, alongside a Nightcrawler, a German who had the appearance of a devil, a Russian Strongman, a Native American and Storm, the first black female super hero in main stream comics. The X-Men now truly represented diversity. The team was at odds with itself as much as the rest of the world.

    As the Series continued, Nightcrawler refused to mask himself in public and appear human. He was proud of whom and what he was and was no longer prepared to hide anymore. In the classic “Days Of Future Past” the X-Men tried to prevent a dystopian future from coming to pass. Evil robots had taken over the world and enslaved humanity. The surviving members of the team lived in a concentration camp. They were forced to wear uniforms that had the letter “M” emblazoned on them, drawing parallels with the pink triangle from Nazi Germany.

    Religion was also used to illustrate the point, many Christian hate groups appeared of the classic run of the series, denouncing mutants as the devil’s children and abominations. In “God Loves, Man Kills” the X-Men are targeted by such a group who use the team founder Professor X against them. With the super powered threat defeated, the team march into a hate rally to confront the real enemy, Prejudice.

    As the years went on other writers used the metaphor in different ways. In the 90s the legacy virus was introduced. It was a virus that only affected mutants to begin with. At the time it was comparable to HIV/ AIDS. However as the story continued, one of the X-Men allies who had been working on a cure became the first human to be diagnosed. Northstar, a mutant who had debuted in X-Men, also became Marvel’s first open Gay Superhero. He joined the team for a brief stint and later became a fixture.

    More recently, the X-Men relocated their base of operations to San Francisco and refused to be closeted or hid away anymore. In stark contrast they courted the media by working directly with the mayor’s office and their own PR firm. Northstar also wed his partner Kyle in 2012, a move that led to online Christian groups calling for a boycott from Toys R US selling X-Men comics.

    The comics industry has changed so much in many ways since the X-Men’s debut 60 years ago. Many other series across the different publishers have portrayed LGBT characters and storylines, but the X-Men will always be important to me. As a teenager I could relate strongly to the characters and the prejudice they face. Rather than become bitter or resentful they used their abilities to fight for a better world and defend those that hate and fear them. It’s a powerful draw to many LGBT teenagers, to see a group of people who stand together, support each other and dream of acceptance. Of course it doesn’t help that Hugh Jackman is buff and easy on the eye but that won’t be the only reason I’ll be watching “The Wolverine”

     

    Opinions expressed in this article may not reflect those of THEGAYUK, its management or editorial teams. If you’d like to comment or write a comment, opinion or blog piece, please click here.

  • COLUMN | Why Grandma, What Big Hands You’ve Got

    Over the last couple of weeks we have been talking about everyone’s favourite after dinner topic, porn! Let’s be honest, we’ve all seen porn in one form or another and have all compared ourselves to the very buff, well-endowed actors (while sat drinking tea and being civilized of course…). But where does that constant need to compare ourselves to other people come from? And will we ever be happy with our own bodies enough to not care how buff the ‘other guy’ is?

    Now, I’m going to make this a little personal to me for a while so if I bore you, tough! For those that know me you know that I’m never happy with my body and that I’m rather partial to, shall we say, punch and pie… therefore keeping the body in the shape of an addonis is always going to be an uphill struggle. But who said that male bodies need to have wash board abs? And where can I find this person to rub him up against a few wash boards? (And not in a good way!).

    Don’t get me wrong, I like the look of a nice toned healthy body just as much as the next guy, but when does that creep into then comparing yourself to the men you see? We all do it, we see a slimmer, smoother, taller, bulkier guy and suddenly you instantly find yourself admiring what they have and wishing you had it yourself. When actually, you already have most of what just walked past.

    I had a friend, a real friend not “a friend”, who I went to Gran Canaria with for pride. He was tall, slim, dark haired and reasonably confident. While walking down that main drag before the pride parade started you could clearly see people checking him out and eyeing him up. But could he see it? Definitely not – instead he spent most of his time diverting attention away and complaining about how his body wasn’t as ‘picture perfect’ as some of the other bodies there. Dude, you’re getting attention from some pretty hot guys… buck up your ideas and live in the moment. Shudda, wudda, cudda doesn’t get you where you want to be or enjoying the life that is clearly knocking on your doorstep. Please note I only ever say dude when someone really has a “derrr” moment and needs to be told, one dude to another… promise!

    But we’ve all done it. Dressed differently to hide something we don’t like about our bodies, or gone on a crash diet to get just that little bit slimmer for the summer or our pride holiday.

    Is there a light at the end of the tunnel?

    If I were to change my lifestyle to get and maintain a ‘buff’ body would that mean that I would be happy with my self-image and finally be comfortable in my own skin? I don’t think so… Well, not from what I’ve seen. I can say (proudly?) that I have some fit and healthy friends, a couple of whom took the pilgrimage to change their bodies from one shape to another. Now they are in a better shape than before I thought it would stop or become settled into a ‘maintenance’ routine, but apparently not.

    They are now looking at going on to the next level and bulk out further. Dieting and protein shakes seem to have become the new thing and the same old negative self-image is still there. I remember one time for whatever reason they were unable to get to the gym for a day or 2 and all you got from them was a constant worry that they were starting to lose definition and therefore confidence.

    You could see the confidence literally disappear from his eyes as the evening went on and he talked himself more and more into a believe that no one would speak to him because his six pack had receded less than a centimeter. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, but at the same time also see some of myself in that. One thing out of place or body being bloated and you do fix on it and think that it’s something to be ashamed of.

    Lately, I will admit that being in a long term relationship meant that I did get quite close to being ‘happy’ in my own body – not completely however, but just enough to not worry about what I wore or spend ages in a gym just to burn off less fat than that in a rich tea biscuit. But that also meant that I became lazy, unhealthy and I’ll even admit it, overweight. I’m not ashamed of that, but I do now look at myself and think “bloody hell boy, you’ve let yourself go”. Instantly I go straight into a self-body hating mode and get back into the old regimes. But already I’m starting to feel healthier and a little happier in myself; so surely self-improvement can be good thing?

    Before we go down this path, mother if you’re reading this, avert your eyes or even better go and make yourself a cup of tea – go on!

    Now, you’re all thinking it – this doesn’t just apply to bodies, we also do it with cock size (and don’t say you don’t because you do, I’m yet to meet someone that hasn’t at some point in their life, even when drunk). Bigger is better apparently, again who decided this I have no idea. Personally, bigger is not better as bigger means the more you’re expected to fit up there… (Although not me, 100% top… sorry boys!).

    So why is bigger so much better? Why do we always feel like we are smaller than everyone else when in fact, actually, we are a decent size and can have ‘fun’ without the need to outsize Dumbo? A lot of people blame the porn industry, and I have to admit after just doing a basic search online, I would have to agree with that. Out of the 10 videos I found online all of them had actors that were well above the national average (and 9 of the 10 bareback I might add, but that’s a separate issue). They all looked like they could last for hours and they all gave rather loud (and kind of convincing) orgasms which could only lead the viewer to believe that big penises lead to better orgasms. It’s at this point I rely on the bottoms out there to agree with me here that that is utter rubbish.

    Personally, I take the opinion with penis size that so long as we can do something with it then who cares what the measurement is? I’m not looking to quote you for a suit, or take it on Ryanair as hand luggage so who cares what the size is? Am I alone in that thinking? And I am only saying that because I’ve not blessed in either of the extreme size categories? Is that a mindset that can ever be achieved in gay men when we are bombarded with ‘shlong’ porn and a culture of ‘bigger is better’? I think I saw a video on a ‘popular dating site’ once that even had someone shove a cone up their bum – how can anyone compete with that?

    A few years ago I was asked if I wanted to par-take in porn (I think we all have at some point) but I genuinely believed at the time that I wouldn’t be ‘fit’ enough for porn. Those guys are built, smooth and hung like a whale; 3 things of which I was not. So naturally, I turned it down, but not because of moral grounds but because I deemed myself unworthy of porn? I look back now and think, what on earth was I thinking?

    I keep bringing this back to me, in many ways this is deliberate and I make no apology for it as body image is a very personal thing. We, the outside world, can spot trends in behaviours but we all have our unique individual reasons for why we want to change our bodies or don’t feel confident in them. For some it can be a deeply personal and a painful motivator, for others a fad or peer pressure or even just a way of life and nothing any deeper than that. All I’ll say is that next time you look in the mirror and see something that you don’t like, ask yourself is it you that doesn’t like it or is it your opinion that others don’t like it therefore you don’t like it?

    If it’s the latter, just explore that thought and see where it leads… who knows you might find something out about yourself.

  • COLUMN | Turkish Delight

    I made an embarrassing revelation a few weeks ago about my shameless quest to save cash and how I had a £5 haircut that was like total carnage. Today I upgraded and went for a £10 haircut. I’ve not only upped but have doubled my ante.

    I was feeling slightly sticky after a brisk stroll from work. The weather was hot and stark and I couldn’t face the bus with its heaters constantly blasting out in spite of the 30-degree heat. Walking felt like the better option. Every bus journey of late has left me on the brink of throwing up in the aisle. I stopped off by the station near where we live at a light and airy barbers which looked clean and vaguely stylish. Being greeted by a hot six-foot bloke in his early 30s with olive skin and good arms made me forget the sweat pooling in my crevices.

    He was a talkative barber. I never know which is worse: the surly ones who ignore you or the prattling ones you have to make an effort with. This one was entertaining and to be honest, he had such a handsome face that I really couldn’t have cared if he read out the cricket scores. I’m a fool for a swarthy man brandishing tools (or scissors).

    He began the snipping and was actually very nifty. My eyes occasionally noted his handiwork although I must admit that he did appear to have what looked like a small mammal nestling in the front of his trousers that drew my eye. I started to feel very warm indeed under the cape type thing.

    “I am from Turkey! I am living here one year and I practice my English. Do you mind me practice talk?”

    “I’d love it!’ I exclaimed with a smile, like he’d just offered me a winning lottery ticket.

    We began to make small talk and I tried hard not to look at the ageing pink thing in the mirror that was being groomed by this Adonis.

    “Is very hot in Turkey. Is hot here too, no? For Irish man like you is bad when you are very pink.”

    I wasn’t offended. Irish is fine with me. They have great writers there and the drinking culture is great.

    “Is also very bad in the day. Turkish people sleep from perhaps 12 till 5. Is 42 degrees there today. For a man like you is very hard to go outside when he has a patch of…what is the saying!…on his head. What is it I say?’

    “Bald patch?” I replied, instantly feeling just a little more humiliated.

    He nodded vigorously: “Yes! Big bald patch!’

    I smiled coquettishly in spite of dying a little inside.

    We carried on like this for a while: me getting pinker, him getting more unfeasibly handsome in spite of his casual lack of tact in front of this aging red faced sweat machine: “You have very hairy neck! Do any barber tell you that you have very hairy neck?”

    I decided there and then. I’d rather he’d spoken to me in Turkish. I wouldn’t have understood a word, but in my mind he’d have been telling me how beautiful I am and how he wished the men of Turkey were so fair and ravishing.

    As it was: it cost me ten quid, I got to glance sideways at a hot man with what looked a massive schlong in his slacks and my hair looks great. Everyone is a winner but my poor pride. I’ll be back for more in a month.

  • OPINION | What is in the label?

    “You know Charlotte? The girl who can relate anything in life to something that has happened in The OC”

    Even though we may not want to admit it we all place labels on others. Within every group of friends there are characteristic, personality traits or specific physical features that define someone. Although these are positive ways to describe others, should we define someone because of their sexuality?

    You may be an excellent sportsperson or a talented comedian. You could be the next Picasso or your devotion to charitable work stands out to others. Now, what would happen next if someone forgot all about what defines you and just referred to your sexuality?

    Who agreed it was acceptable to define an individual based on their sexual preference?

    Whilst being surrounded by those with limited views on homosexuality it confused me. I wondered who had made the rules of life where a man had to find a charming princess and why couldn’t I find a prince charming?

    After coming out to family and friends I found that although I never changed – the opinions of others changed.

    My friends when referring to me with others would use the term “gay”, and I couldn’t understand how the labels that defined me before disappeared.

    Gay is merely a synonym for homosexual, which breaks down in Latin to mean same and sex. Since the late 1960s gay has been used in replacement of the label homosexual. Members of the LGBT took the label of gay as it felt more positive than the latter term homosexual which gave a more clinical feel.

    Labels define us all in positive and negative ways but why should we allow people to overlook our other qualities just because of sexuality?

     

    Opinions expressed in this article may not reflect those of THEGAYUK, its management or editorial teams. If you’d like to comment or write a comment, opinion or blog piece, please click here.

  • COMMENT | What’s your magic number?

    So what’s your magic number? You know the number that I’m talking about…

    Some of you might have shifted uncomfortably upon reading that or being asked? But don’t worry I’m not looking for answers.

    The number in question, of course, refers to the number of sexual partners that you have had. What quite defines a number varies from each person’s list and each conversation. I suspect that this is due to each person’s desire to either increase or decrease the total for their own reasons.

    Of course, this is commonly asked at the start of many a relationship, but why the hell do we care? And what is the impact? Coming into a relationship we may have many questions about our partners, while the questions may be free from judgment, what we are doing is trying to get a better picture of who that person is and their suitability as a partner.

    As human beings, we tend to fill the gaps with our own imaginations and therefore we create an idealised view of that person from what we know. By getting to know them better we are testing to see if our perception matches reality. However, we all have history and that can be very different from the place that the other person finds themselves in at present.

    By challenging our perspectives of other people we are inviting change into a relationship, for example if you felt your boyfriends figure was too high, would you still hold them in the same regard. Of course they have not changed as a person the only shift is our perception of them; of course if they are on grindr with their junk hanging out in their profile picture, you’ve got a pretty good idea that they aren’t sat at home at night sewing quilts for the church fete.

    In male-male relationships, this can sometimes cause additional frictions, as there may be an on-going power struggle for the dominant male. If one man perceives himself as the alpha male in the relationship, he may feel emasculated upon discovering his partner has a higher number. In the short term, he may become isolated and jealous. In the longer term, it may become resentment.

    Of course there is the flip side, I have known someone in the past who has called off an engagement because he found out that she wasn’t a virgin, and yes he was Catholic but when you’re in your 40s chances are against it? He admitted that it was a silly situation but the woman he had loved had become someone different in his eyes.

    I think the crux of the argument is how much of your past defines your future. As a person centred counsellor I work with the here and now, clients are powerless to change the past but making sense of it allows them to begin to shape the future. The important thing to remember at the start of any new relationship is that both parties have intentions to leave the past behind and create a new future together.
    If you feel that you want to know your partners number, ask yourself why? What are you hoping to gain? Asking that question is like opening Pandora’s box, once it is open there is it cannot be closed again and the consequences will need to be dealt with.

    Can a leopard change its spots? Yes, absolutely. If someone has an especially high number it may mean that they were unsure about what they were looking for, but they find something appealing in you that makes them want to change. Should they be ashamed of the person they were? Certainly not and neither should they be defined or judged by it.

    And I’m not telling you my magic number.

     

    Opinions expressed in this article may not reflect those of THEGAYUK, its management or editorial teams. If you’d like to comment or write a comment, opinion or blog piece, please click here.

  • COLUMN | Starey Mary

    My partner and I made a rare sortie into a central London gay bar the other evening, on our way to see a play. He was craving a cool pint of beer and the nearest decent bar just happened to be one where the more stylish boys hang out.

    I’m pretty accustomed to gay bars and am a jaded pub goer, having launched myself on the gay scene at a slightly scandalous 16 years old but my partner has never really partaken in the scene much at all, being a much later starter and having lived in more rural areas. It sometimes takes an outsider to spot something and pinpoint a factor that you take for granted.

    My partner noticed the constant staring. Being slightly vain, he loved it. Its normal practice in a gay bar to be appraised and I don’t even notice this anymore. The quick look up and down, the sideways glance and the full on full body scan are all perils that you face when entering a bar. It’s habitual, standard practice and is done without thinking and with no terrible breach of etiquette. In fact, it is the etiquette. I wouldn’t even think it rude were someone to look down pointedly at my crotch to see what I was packing or to perform a lengthy examination of my buttocks. It’s just the way of the gay. It often ends in dismissal (I’m with a partner, I’m over 40 and therefore unavailable/decrepit and not necessarily worth the effort) but can end in a brief eye contact, a mutual appraisal or a mutual disdain.

    We talked about it and I explained the code of practice in a gay bar to my partner. I explained that it’s often meaningless; that gay men appraise men, just as straight men appraise women and it’s as much a habit as biting your nails or chewing gum.

    I have a thousand sneaky ways of looking attractive men up and down in the street. Lechery has to be a skilful art at times. There’s the brief sideways glance at a hot businessman on the tube, over the top of a paperback novel. The window reflection study of a scantily clad hottie in shorts on the top deck of a bus is a classic manoeuvre. The distracted ‘just casually looking around but my eyes have accidentally taken in the lycra cyclist with the muscles and I’ve noted that he appears to have a massive penis’ is a very retro one which is easy to perfect, provided you can feign the right level of nonchalance.

    Let the Starey Marys stare in the bars. It’s not at all intimidating unless you let it be so and is actually, quite flattering should their facial expression register a glimmer of approval or lust. If they dismiss or grimace, then just let it amuse you.

    They clearly have no class or taste or you’re just in the wrong bar.

  • OPINION | Porn, does it eventually bite you in bum?

    In the news this week is the story of young ballet dancer, Jeppe Hansen. Hansen was on a scholarship with the Royal Winnipeg Ballet School, when he was told there was no longer a place for him, it having been discovered that he had appeared in gay porn movies, under the name Jett Black.

    Quite how the Royal Winnipeg Ballet officials discovered this has not been revealed, but the company has stated it has policies and procedures in place, that state that any dancer who wishes to partake in ‘side projects’ must gain approval from the school director. I do wonder, though, if the school would have been quite so intransigent if it had been discovered that Hansen was working as a waiter or even dancing in a fringe production of a musical somewhere.

    There can be little doubt that it is the nature of Hansen’s ‘side project’ itself that is the problem, not the fact that Hansen, like many students, was doing something extra-curricular to fund his education. The problem appears to be sex, not only sex, but public sex, though we should remember that Hansen was doing nothing illegal. He was just appearing in a movie and getting paid for it. One has to ask if they would have had the same problem, if he’d got a role in a war movie which required him to kill and maim people. No doubt he’d have been given a warning and allowed to continue his studies.

    On the other hand it is a little disingenuous of Hansen to refer to the porn he did as art, a statement that only serves to cloud the issue. Though he may have a point, I’d hardly call any of the porn I did art, and, anyway, the whole question of what constitutes pornography, and what erotic art, is probably food for a whole other article. Hansen banging on about his artistic freedom being breached hardly helps, I feel. The issue seems to me much simpler.

    I certainly doubt the Royal Winnipeg Ballet School’s officials wrestled for one moment with definitions of art and pornography. They were just “shocked” and “appalled” that one of their students was having sex on film. But this is where I have a problem with the officials. My reaction to the news was, predictably no doubt, so f**king what?? I would imagine he made a lot more money for a few hours’ being filmed having sex than he would have done working as a waiter, and probably had a lot more fun doing it too. Seems to me he was just being inventive. He was given an opportunity and took it.

    Am I so completely out of touch with how normal people would react? Not as much as you might think, judging from most of the comments left by readers of the news article in gaystarnews, who all seemed to think the Ballet School over reacted.

    As far as I can see, the problems society, and the mainstream media, have with porn are the same ones they have with sex; problems derived from outmoded religious views and the deep seated shame those views create.

    Some of you may remember that, a few years ago, The News of the World revealed that Max Mosley enjoyed indulging in a bit of SM sex. Mosley, quite properly considering that what he got up to in his private life was nobody’s business but his own took out a privacy case against the News of the World, which he won, though, by this time, his reputation was in tatters anyway. The law agreed that The News of the World had breached his privacy by revealing his sexual peccadilloes, but it hardly changed people’s attitudes to what he was getting up to. Again, when the story first broke, my attitude was, so what? Why is this even a news story? Is it just that most people’s sex lives are so boring, they can only get vicarious pleasure out of reading about other people’s, and then, of course, condemning them?

    On the subject of porn, internet figures suggest that most of us are looking at it, but very few would admit to it. We know that most of the people who have at some time looked at internet porn are men, (8 out of 10, compared to only a third of women), but it’s fair to assume that most of them don’t tell their wives or girlfriends. So, although watching porn is common, it’s still not considered acceptable behaviour, whereas watching movies in which people get blown to bits is. Taking the above figure as the norm, that would suggest that, out of the current 503 male MPs in the House of Commons, we can assume that at least 400 of them have, at one time or another, watched internet porn. These same MPs will publicly voice their concerns about the easy availability of internet porn and talk about ways of stopping it. Ah, how we love dual standards.

    Returning to the original question as to whether doing porn can come back and bite you in the bum, then, I am sad to say, that in our present society, the answer is probably yes. In our gay world, doing porn might be becoming more and more acceptable, and indeed more and more gay men are enjoying sex on camera, many being happy to do it just for the thrill, rather than the money, but they really should be careful about who gets to watch it. I suspect many of them would lose their day jobs if their bosses ever found out. Yes, it seems totally wrong to me and I can’t help asking why doing porn can possibly be seen to be a problem for a budding ballet dancer. Are people really not going to go and watch him dance if they know he’s had sex on camera? I suspect the reverse would be true. Oh well, clearly society hasn’t caught up with me yet. So a bit of advice. Unless, like me, you can largely opt out of society, admit to all you have done and refuse to be ashamed, it’s probably best that, for now, you give up the idea of doing that porn movie. Either that or wear a mask.

     

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