Coming Out and Coming to Terms

It pains me when I hear about people committing suicide due to being bullied. Every time I see it, I think about my own time when I was suicidal. I am thankful that I was never really bullied. Instead my torment came from a much more personal source. Me.

I didn’t always know I was gay. Some people do. My partner is one of them. I always knew that I liked guys. I was fascinated by them. I remember being little and my dad telling me not to stare at people when we were changing to go swimming. So I clearly had queer tendencies as a young person. But I didn’t know that they were queer. I thought it was normal. It was just another part of being me.

Somewhere along the line, I got the idea in my head that having feelings for another guy was wrong. My parents never talked about it one way or another, although I know now that they are very liberal in their views. I know that my feeling of wrongness happened before I had ever heard a minister talk about same-sex relationships.

This sense of wrongness bred in me a hatred that was so intense. I wanted to die. There wasn’t a day that went by between the ages of 10 and 22 that I didn’t wish that God would take the breath from my lungs. I didn’t want to have the feelings I had. I would spend nights praying that I wouldn’t wake up in the morning.

I started to come out to people when I was 16. And even though every person that I told was ok with it, I still wasn’t. Inside, I still didn’t like myself for who I was. Added to this was the fact that I never saw any big gay guys in the media. They were all skinny guys that were only into other skinny guys. This made me feel even more alone in the world, which added to my hatred.  Eventually it got to be too much, and I decided to take matters into my own hands.

When I think back, I am so glad that I didn’t go through with it or was prevented from doing so. I blacked out before I could. Instead of slitting my wrists, I had cut my upper arm with what I found out were Norse runes used for protection. Basically, they meant Strength, Victory, Honor and Intuition. It was probably the most powerful message that could be sent to me. It meant that I was worth saving and that I was meant for something. It was in the hours after coming to that I finally started to accept myself for who and what I was.

I was still afraid of being alone. I didn’t know anything about Bears and the Bear community. I didn’t know that there were guys out there that would be attracted to me and love me for being me. But it showed me that there was a reason to live. Since that time, I have learned how to love myself and in return be capable of loving other people. And I am grateful for all of the people that love me.

If you are reading this and feeling like there is no point, please I urge you to reach out. There are people out there that love you and who can help you love yourself. Please check out the following resources. And remember, it really does get better.

The Trevor Project

National Suicide Prevention

American Foundation for Suicide Prevention

What the Hell is a Bear?

Growing up a big, hairy gay male wasn’t always easy for me. When I was younger, I was teased for my large frame. As I started to realize my attractions, I felt further dejected. There weren’t any characters that looked like me. They were all slim and or muscular guys that were attracted to men that mirrored them. I thought for sure I was going to be alone my whole life, as I didn’t have the build that seemed attractive to these men.

I didn’t really have any kind of gay role models. Hell, I didn’t even really know any other gay men. I knew they were out there. Just didn’t know any personally. Thankfully that changed when I moved out on my own. I met a young couple that lived in the same building I did. We would hang out as often as possible. Thankfully they were quite willing to answer all of the questions that had built up inside me. One day, I shared with them the fear I had that I would grow up alone. That I felt no one would really be attracted to a big, fat, hair guy. They both chuckled. One of them shared with me that I was a “bear.” I remember looking at them quite perplexed and asking what that meant.

There is a whole sub-community within the larger gay community of men that are just like me. This small revelation gave me hope. I knew that I was attracted to guys that were like me, large (not necessarily fat) and hairy. But the fact that my attraction was so radically different from the image that the media had fed me for so long made me even more miserable. But now I knew there was no need to be miserable any longer. There were guys out there that not only would be attracted to me, but that it was ok for me to be attracted to them.

It took a few more years before I found other folks in the bear community. Thinking back, I wish I had just gotten on my computer and looked up more information about bears. Turns out that bears tend to really utilize technology to their benefit. They were some of the first to use the internet to find one another. Now, there are tons of gay sites out there to meet all sorts of people. When I met my partner, he was the first bear that I had really gotten to know. He in turn introduced me to several other bears and together we continue to find more guys that fit in our community.

When I identify myself now as a bear, I have straight friends that ask me what that means. So I figured I would put together a little primer for them. Scouring the internet I found the following information to help those who don’t know what a bear is or don’t know much about the community.

There isn’t a clear picture of when the Bear subculture began. Some say that it started as early as the late ‘70s, while others suggest that it started in 1986 with Bear magazine. Regardless of when it began, it has stuck around. Bears tend to be heavy-set men who tend to have hairy bodies and facial hair. However, these are not strict requirements. There are muscle bears, with little body fat and there are those with little body hair as well.

One of the things that I think really defines the bear community is acceptance. The bears I have found online and in person accept people for who they are. This is especially important for those that, like me, thought there wasn’t a place for them in the gay community. There are bears of every shape, race, age, etc. which is incredibly empowering. In addition, bears tend to be friendly and easy going. Both of these are also very inviting.

Bears  have certain terms that they use to refer to one another. Even I get confused by them at times. So I include a brief lesson on bear vocabulary. Use at your own risk.

Bear Basics

Bear – “The most common definition of a "bear" is a man who is hairy, has facial hair, and a cuddly body. However, the word "Bear" means many things to different people, even within the bear movement. Many men who do not have one or all of these characteristics define themselves as bears, making the term a very loose one. Suffice it to say, "bear" is often defined as more of an attitude than anything else - a sense of comfort with our natural masculinity and bodies that is not slavish to the vogues of male attractiveness that is so common in gay circles and the culture at large.” – Urban Dictionary definition

Cub – A term used to describe a young, husky, hairy gay man, essentially a young bear. Typically, cubs have smaller frames than a bear does. It can also be used to describe the submissive partner in a bear relationship

Goldilocks – A woman that hands out with a group of bears. These are our “fag hags”

Otter – A slimmer or less hairy bear

Wolf – A bear that is rugged and outdoorsy

Types of Bears

Black Bears – Bear of African-American descent

Brown Bears – Bear of Latin descent

Daddy Bear – An older or mature bear

Ginger Bear – A Bear with red facial and or body hair

Grizzly Bear – This can mean a couple of things. First it could reference someone that is extremely masculine/dominant. It may also reference someone that is extremely tall, heavy or hairy.

Koala Bear – A bear of Australian descent

Panda Bear – A bear of Asian descent

Pocket Bear – A bear that is short in stature

Polar Bear – A bear with white or grey hair

Hopefully, this helps folks out there understand who I am and the community that I belong to.

My Secret Addiciton

Ok, so it might not be so secret. I am absolutely addicted to hugs. The feeling of another person in such close proximity is amazing and empowering. For me, hugging is not about being sexual (though it can build sexual tension). Instead, it is about reaching out and physically connecting with people.

This last weekend, I received countless number of hugs from friends and new acquaintances. Each one was amazing. I received small little shoulder hugs, or what I refer to as “bro hugs.” These are generally quick embraces where you press shoulder to shoulder. Sometimes they are accompanied by a slap on the back. But I was also graced with mighty bear hugs, that realigned my spine and with it the flow of loving energy that surrounds each of us. And of course there were all sorts of hugs in between.

Now, there are some awkward moments that can be spawned by a simple hug. For example, you and the other person may not know whose arm should be on top, or which side your head should be on. Both of these can cause little bumps that make both people blush. Maybe one or both parties have been fairly active and are a little sweaty. Body odor happens, even thru the toughest deodorants. Embrace these embarrassing moments and don’t make a big deal out of it.

I can’t seem to be around people without feeling the need to hug someone. Perhaps I see someone that is having a rough day. A hug is the ultimate pick me up. It can make a shitty day better. And for some people, it may be the silver lining that they needed. There can also be those hugs that help someone celebrate something great. Those are the ones that can spread their energy and excitement to you or just give you a way to hold on to that moment for a few seconds longer. And sometimes hugs just because it is Tuesday or because you woke up this morning. I am in favor of not needing a reason to hug.

I have also been caught off guard by hugs. A recent addition to my long and growing list of friends managed to completely surprise me. He is an older guy and a little gruff at times. We work together on a volunteer project. Prior to the hug happening, I had never seen him hug anyone else in our project. And then one day, bam, a big ole bear hug. It felt good, but without thinking about it my whole body went rigid. I was shocked. He has teased me about that hug several times, trying to find out why I reacted the way that I did. At first, he thought I was being heterophobic. That was not it. I hug many straight men. He suggested other reasons. And I realized that it had everything to do with his age. Somehow, I had gotten caught off guard by getting an out of the blue hug from someone that is a bit older than me (I am a good kid and have never asked his age).

Of all the things we could be addicted to, I suppose hugs are one of the best. For me it doesn’t matter whether the hug is a little awkward, used to emotionally charge someone or whether the hug serves as a catalyst to coming to terms with things you weren’t comfortable with. Everyone could use a hug.