By Ethan Gregoire
THE KING PROCRASTINATOR
I am a procrastinator. So much so that I dubbed myself “The King Procrastinator” in high school (my teachers didn’t seem to disagree), so much so that I would wait until the day before a ten-page paper was due to start it, so much so that I put off coming out to my immediate family until the last day of Pride Month in 2021. It was a self-imposed deadline, which is not all that wise to have in the first place, and not just because I wasn’t 100% confident in my identity at the time I uttered the words “I’m not straight.”
TO LABEL OR NOT TO LABEL MY SEXUALITY
While I was certain I was bisexual, I was hesitant to use that phrasing. At the same time, I didn’t want to confine myself to a label, and I craved the knowledge that there was a cut-and-dry label I could call home. The tug-of-war stemmed from simply wanting to exist as queer on the one hand, and wanting to know what “type” of bisexual I was (was I pansexual, or perhaps on the aromantic or asexual spectrums too?) on the other. I did have confidence, but only in the fact that I wasn’t straight. And while I can’t speak for anyone but myself, I was tired of hiding in the closet, and it was safe for me to emerge.
So from then on, I found myself dressing more effeminately (think pink-tinted sunglasses, pastel-hued blazers, and dusty rose sneakers) and applying eyeliner from time to time. I found that that was the way I was most comfortable and confident dressing, even over the course of the next three and a half years, during which I constantly waffled between bi and pan (as well as aro-ace and demisexual) and believed I would find comfort in a specific label. But I didn’t. I was inspired to break free from that idea by the realization that I was in denial not only of the fact that I identify more generally as queer but also of my gender.
WAIT…NOW WHAT GENDER AM I?
That came as a bit of a shock, as I had always identified as a cisgender male with he/him pronouns. But I’m not, and never have been, a classically manly guy, and not just in the way I dress. I was never into sports, whether playing them or watching them, and my parents had observed that I was not as stereotypically “male-brained” (i.e., straightforward, temperamental, and lacking attention to detail) as expected. It’s impossible to find one’s gender based on logic and reasoning alone, but as an autistic who thinks largely in that way, it helped me identify the gender I feel I truly am.
While I choose not to label my gender any longer, I now use he/they pronouns since they reflect not only how I present myself, but the way I know I am in my heart. Since then, the rest has seemed to fall into place. While I’ve been single for a while now, I’ve stopped envying others in relationships and stopped getting down on myself for not having as much romance or sex in my life as society pressures me to have. A partner would just be sprinkles on the cake rather than something I need to complete me.
WISDOM FROM A QUEER WHO’S FOUND HIMSELF
That all being said, there’s still quite a bit for me to work on. But I know enough to offer some advice. First things first, if you have privilege, one of life’s great quests is to not only acknowledge it, but use it to help others who don’t, or at least don’t have as much. While time management takes practice, it never hurts to squeeze a community meeting or event into your day. I admittedly haven’t attended as many as I’d like to, and it takes not beating oneself up or calling oneself a “bad queer” for not going to motivate one to go.
And once you do, I promise you’ll not only feel better, but surer of yourself in every way. Since I’ve found my community, I’ve become more confident not only in my identity, but my body image. Dysphoria is all too real among queer men. It’s too easy to feel inadequate in light of the narrow confines of our beauty standards, and it’s not always realistic to absolutely love your body every day, so I learned to just focus on gratitude and mindfulness. In short, I love all that my body does for me, and aim to treat it as well as possible.
A NOTE ON INTERSECTIONALITY
I’ve also come to realize, both through social interaction and Instagram, that not all queer men face the same hurdles when it comes to body positivity. Those of color, those who are disabled, and those who don’t conform to a hyper-masculine or hyper-feminine image face exclusion more often than those who are otherwise privileged (like myself!). And social media algorithms spray gasoline onto the fire by promoting comparison to those idealized, often unrealistic standards.
What’s more, not all queer men face the same cultural and societal obstacles in the way of coming out. If I had the strength to give us all the ability to do so safely and with confidence, I’d do it in a heartbeat. But until we all can, none of us are truly free. And that, I’ve come to realize, is what being bisexual means to me.
Love, Ethan