Boston Gay and Bisexual Married Men's Support Group, Pathways

Self-Hatred: Two Pathways

The narrative about self-hatred on the left had some circulation on the Web (the origin was Tully's blog.) It was forwarded to one of our members, who commented, “It was hard to read with tears in your eyes. It bothers me just as much this afternoon as it did last night. It's like trying not to look at something you know you don't want to see, but you can't stop yourself. ” He and several other members of the group added the parallel narrative (in italics) on the right, as a way of reframing the conflicts we have all experienced.


First, you hate yourself	Then you stop and think:
Because you don't fit in and the other kids seem to instinctively know it. Because you're the last picked for the team, and even the girls laugh at you. Because your answers are jerky or nerdy, or not what someone else expects. Because you're the class fag, although you're not all together sure what that means. Because your pen-and-ink drawings are of guys, and shirtless athletic men hold your gaze longer than anyone else.	You're different, but you have some things that make you special. The girls don't all laugh. Some girls are nicer than most of the boys, and some boys are nicer than others. The boys you like seem more like yourself. You start learning to make friends. Sometimes you fall in love with a boy and can’t stop thinking about him.
Later, you simply hate yourself	But you decide
Because your friends are leering at Playboy and making dirty references to the hot girls in class and you can only jerkily smile because you don't quite get what all the excitement is about. Because it seems everyone around you is reporting about how they're 'getting laid," and you're not. Because you're not sure if you hate them because they're being cads,or if you hate them because you're jealous, or if you hate them because you want, but don't have, the same desire to bed girls that they do. Or all three, and you can't sort it out.	Maybe they're not your friends, after all, at least not while they talk that way. They're bragging. More likely, they're lying. But they jerk off the same way you do, and what they imagine isn't nearly as exciting as what you think about. You find that there are a few girls who make you feel good about yourself, and you learn enough of the dating game to find a girl who loves you as a friend, and she teaches you about sex, even though you know it would be more fun with a boy.
Then you hate yourself		You get a more complicated view of yourself
Because you spin out of control, trying to be the good man, having always been the good little boy. Because you give up asking yourself "what do I want to do," and only ask, "what must I do?" Because you've married in a fairy-tale wedding and have had wonderful children, and the world sees you but can't see the emptiness gnawing in your gut. Because you move back and forth between depression and workaholism and addictions and saving the world to avoid the pain that is always there, always growing, never leaving. And because you take the long drive home just because you know there are shirtless guys working on that section of the road.		For a while everything is great: your parents are happy, your friends are impressed, sex is sometimes good, sometimes OK, sometimes not. You can always think about those shirtless men. Anyway, children are wonderful, you love being a father. You wish you could stop saying no to yourself all the time, and you wish you could be fully yourself, even with just one person. But you don't feel ashamed of what's really genuine in yourself, including your love of men (don't you wish!).
Then you hate yourself		Then things get harder
Because you lost your will power, and fell into the arms of another man. Because you treated a fellow human being as a blow-up doll. Because you cheated, and lied, and betrayed the wife you love more than anything else in the world. Because you have done everything that your Church proclaims is sinful and an abomination. Because you can no longer turn to your best friends or family, because you are now dirty and sodden and unforgivable. Because they won't understand you, and you are now thoroughly alone. And because there is no way out.		You couldn't keep on saying no. But simple sex (that blow-up doll, or did he blow you?) isn't all you're looking for. You hate keeping secrets, but you want to protect the people you've made promises to. If you're going to be true to yourself, you'll need to tell your wife, but you'll need to look for ways of saying yes to your longing for love with a man.
Then you are worthy of being hated		You're miserable
Because you finally broke down and fell apart and spilled your guts. Because the woman who pinned her hopes and dreams on you is devastated. Because the family you built has had its very foundations pulled out from under it. Because you anticipate giving up the morning "good-byes!" and the evening tuck-ins. Because you are the cause of the family's distress, and you have no answers.		You hoped your wife would understand, but she's angry, and she sets ultimatums. Your kids love you, but there's something wrong and they don't begin to understand. You can't tell them.
Then you hate everything		And then

Because you're still alone. Because of the dates that never showed up and the guys on the net who lied about their ages or looks. Because of the superficial relationships that never panned out. Because of the LTR that never was. Because you gave it all up for a constant stream of disappointments. Because the guys at the "pride" parade and the gay bar didn't give you a second glance, because you're too old, or fat or bald, or not hot enough. Because of the increasingly frequent tests at the Health Clinic.
		You separate, sadly. Sex is fun, but the dating game is at least as complicated as it was with girls. Gay life is a disappointment, at least in the ways that are easy to find. But you think: There must be other men like me, looking for love and capable of recognizing when they find it .
And then you hate the fact that you've grown numb.		You find other men like yourself.
Numb to love, numb to hate. And what keeps you hanging on is the hope that you will indeed find a Love that erases those decades of hate.		You learn a little more about sex, but a lot more about friendship, like how to listen, really listen, to another man, and that makes the sex even better. If you're lucky, you find a group like ours. You're on your way.

One of our members added later:

It's amazing what a difference a few weeks can make in your life. Things calm down and start to fall into place. You take on a new perspective. You do one heck of a lot of thinking and self examination. You let go of parts of you that you find are nothing more than baggage that you've been carrying for decades, and carrying long enough. You discover new parts of yourself that were buried deep enough that you never realized they were there.

Day by day you start to shovel out years of self hate and refusal to accept the complete person that you are. I realize, looking back, that nobody could have shown me more prejudice as a gay man than I did to myself.

One day it all started to come apart and it scared the hell out of me. I felt manic/depressive - laughing out loud one minute and feeling like I needed to throw up the next.

Pieces of the old you dissolve and chunks of defensive armor fall off and expose the real you for perhaps the first time in your life. You try fighting it, like always but this time it doesn't work and something inside of you tells you not to go back to what you were and something tells you that you couldn't if you really wanted to. In a way, it's like a rebirth but it's not going to happen as long as you fight it.

Mostly, I'm happier and more at peace with myself than I've been in a long time. I look back on some of the worst days and wonder how I could have thought they were that overwhelming. There may be more hard work coming, but I won't turn back.

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