There is a lumberjack in my head. He is cutting down the forest, then building his own home, killing a deer or two for dinner for his woman and child, and then running off to the local lumberjack beer with his flannel backed buddies. He is loud and proud of his heterosexual demeanor. His feelings are distractions at best. Yes, this is a caricature, but the fact that it is still in my mind demonstrates how the old ideas are still there. They are imbedded in my subconscious, no matter that I am gay, believe in feminism, support trans people, and support the many variations of sexual/gender expression.

Many times over the years I’ve have heard, “Oh, I never would have guessed you are gay”, or, “I would not have known if you didn’t tell me”. Secretly, I have been proud of appearing “straight” or “straight acting”. The lumberjack ideal was my ideal. Looking gay, looking feminine, looking vulnerable was not who I wanted to be.

I now feel a little ashamed at this. Note, I said, “a little”. To be honest, I still have the old paradigm sitting in my brain, old guys smoking cigars and shutting down any sentimentality. But I yearn for a less shutting down and more opening up version of masculinity. No lumberjacks (unless they’re incredibly hot). I want to change my ways.

For example, traditional masculinity often encompasses a stoic ideal of passionless acceptance, mistrusting emotions. I often wanted to express love to people but have been reticent. My sister will tell me she loves me and I get tense and unable to speak it back, no matter that I feel joy when we hang out and do indeed love her. I hold back in expressing affection for my friends, both male and female. I have an amazing friend who will often greet me with, “Hey Tommy. I missed you”. I sometimes freeze, not knowing what to say back. I can’t be too emotional but I have to recognize the greeting. I should say I missed her too, because I do. But I don’t. I have the the flannel boy to thank for this.

The saddest think about what I just mentioned is that I desperately want to hear that my friends, family, SOs, love me. The following anecdote is a good illustration of where this pattern comes originates. In high school, a friend came up to me and said, to my surprise, “I heard something about you. I don’t think we can be friends”. I responded, “That’s your loss”, and walked away. I never asked exactly what she meant, but I knew it was because I was gay. I remember a cold/hot wave of anger and pain go through me. Without thinking, I knew no one was going to reject me again. The easiest way to accomplish this was not put myself in that position. I would not be vulnerable. I would not respond. I would not love until I was sure I would not be hurt.

But to get love you must give it. Or at least be open to hearing and feeling it. So, I went to a birthday party yesterday. The close friend I mentioned above was there and she again told me she had missed me. This time I told her I had missed her, too. Hey, it was a small change but it felt good. Maybe the lumberjack will soon be able to hug and kiss. Even lumberjacks need love.

is.