Over the last three or four years, I've spent a lot of time deconstructing the belief system i grew up with - the one i had to survive. It's like I've taken all the furniture out of the house and put it on the driveway. Now i get to choose what i bring back inside.
Thank you for showing me, through this post and many others, what was actually happening beneath the veneer of my life.
The continuous practice of watching yourself from outside your own body,
I do this a tremendous amount towards the point that I don’t know what my identity is. I act for others.
I was in a therapy group and the group was closing in a month. But we reached a great topic of discussion which we called: “grow yourself up,” meaning that we were supposed to grow ourselves up without any help.
I had a best friend when I was 15. I used to listen to him talk about his heterosexual fantasies. I'd study them so I'd know how I was supposed to act in order to keep passing as straight.
I'll echo the previous comment: "many of my clients experienced not just an absence of representation, but an absence of destination. " I knew at an early age that I did not have the same opportunities ahead of me that others had. It's not that I didn't want to join the military. I wasn't allowed to. It's not that I didn't want to work in the government, I wasn't allowed to. It's not that I didn't want kids. I wasn't allowed to. So much of that is different no w, but when I was growing up, so many doors were closed. In fact, so many that I didn't really know what doors were open for me. Maybe a flamboyant piano performer in Vegas? The middle square on Hollywood Squares? Or a lonely single man in a sad apartment, where I would die alone. There were so few examples of what I could become. So the life I created really was an original, albeit not terribly exciting story. It's only after I thought that I could find the door in drugs and alcohol, I decided to go back to school (mostly to prove my dad wrong, and that I actually could get a PhD), found a career as a high school teacher, found the love of my life, picked up a musical instrument at 48 years old, and spend as much time as I can traveling. If someone asked the 21 year old me what my future would look like, I would've said "I don't know, but probably nothing good." Gino, you are always giving us something to think about and ways to feel better about ourselves. I appreciate you more than you could know. Thank you! ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️
Ok, here's the thing, I'm not gay and I'm not a man, and your words get me every time. You are speaking uniquely to gay men, I have no doubt, but the fact that your words find audiences beyond the one you intend, speaks to your ability to see humanity.
Here's the line that got me from this essay: "many of my clients experienced not just an absence of representation, but an absence of destination. "
This resonates with me so much I have tears in my eyes. As I struggle to find the words to include in my autobiographical documentation of my journey to survive a traumatic brain injury that I suffered on my last day working as a psychiatric nurse clinician, after 38 years, in 2024. More importantly, as a neurodivergent RN, I always knew how to where a mask to prevent any one from ever reading anything into my behavior. After a lifetime, there was a part of me that I couldn’t keep imprisoned under guilt and shame. I allowed a part of me hidden to finally exist, at 56 years old, in 2021. Now, with many disabilities and brain injuries after the felonious assault at my NYS OMH nursing job in 9/17/24 that has been on the news, I treasure my identity as a member of the LGBTQ community, as a bisexual healthcare professional, married to a woman, which is what I wrote on Grindr in 2021 when I first “came out” to my wife and daughters with no hidden life at all. I was so good at wearing a mask of invisibility, aside from being an advocate for anyone needing compassionate healthcare, I spent so long hiding that even in my semi authentic state 4 years ago, I was meeting people in communities unfamiliar to me, mostly leaning into my skills as an RN and volunteer working with people with terminal and permanent illnesses. I never told the few gay men I met that I was afraid, holding onto who I always wanted to be, but never was. I was an actor on the stage of life for so long, I was no-one, eventually. Now, I will not hide from anyone. I came so close to passing, with a TBI and a NDE, I want to advocate for other members of the LGBTQ community, who may be trapped in their own heads quietly hating themselves. I have been there, and I will work to help others find their own voices.
Gino, Your insights continue to amaze me! At 80 (81 in a few weeks) one would think I have heard it all. What you look at, you do in ways that never dawned on me but in looking at your perspective makes perfect sense and informs and clarifies and changes who I am after having heard it. I will re-read this post and react to parts of it. One thing I already see is that my enjoying my solitude, and leaving behind conscienciously not wanting to socialize as much, not enjoying the extrovert part of me and the "entertaining" of the "room" is because of the double program that has been running my life and actions for so long. Thanks. I am more than grateful for having found you! Fondly, Michael
Oh my gosh. This was beyond insightful. “Absence of destination” perfectly describes that lost 17-year-old who had absolutely no clue where to go in life, no lifelines, and would simply muscle through … and choose both
the being useful and the read the room programs.
I’ve become the architect!
This made me feel so good about myself, Gino. It’s not artifice and it’s not hiding anymore. It’s elevated architecture.
Not renovation or repair or excavating. Authenticity and agency. 🥰💕
So well said — and so rarely said by anyone else. Growing up with the feeling of not belonging takes a lifetime to work through (still at it at 55).
Thank you.
Over the last three or four years, I've spent a lot of time deconstructing the belief system i grew up with - the one i had to survive. It's like I've taken all the furniture out of the house and put it on the driveway. Now i get to choose what i bring back inside.
Thank you for showing me, through this post and many others, what was actually happening beneath the veneer of my life.
So well explained. Thank you.
The continuous practice of watching yourself from outside your own body,
I do this a tremendous amount towards the point that I don’t know what my identity is. I act for others.
I was in a therapy group and the group was closing in a month. But we reached a great topic of discussion which we called: “grow yourself up,” meaning that we were supposed to grow ourselves up without any help.
I had a best friend when I was 15. I used to listen to him talk about his heterosexual fantasies. I'd study them so I'd know how I was supposed to act in order to keep passing as straight.
I'll echo the previous comment: "many of my clients experienced not just an absence of representation, but an absence of destination. " I knew at an early age that I did not have the same opportunities ahead of me that others had. It's not that I didn't want to join the military. I wasn't allowed to. It's not that I didn't want to work in the government, I wasn't allowed to. It's not that I didn't want kids. I wasn't allowed to. So much of that is different no w, but when I was growing up, so many doors were closed. In fact, so many that I didn't really know what doors were open for me. Maybe a flamboyant piano performer in Vegas? The middle square on Hollywood Squares? Or a lonely single man in a sad apartment, where I would die alone. There were so few examples of what I could become. So the life I created really was an original, albeit not terribly exciting story. It's only after I thought that I could find the door in drugs and alcohol, I decided to go back to school (mostly to prove my dad wrong, and that I actually could get a PhD), found a career as a high school teacher, found the love of my life, picked up a musical instrument at 48 years old, and spend as much time as I can traveling. If someone asked the 21 year old me what my future would look like, I would've said "I don't know, but probably nothing good." Gino, you are always giving us something to think about and ways to feel better about ourselves. I appreciate you more than you could know. Thank you! ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️
Ok, here's the thing, I'm not gay and I'm not a man, and your words get me every time. You are speaking uniquely to gay men, I have no doubt, but the fact that your words find audiences beyond the one you intend, speaks to your ability to see humanity.
Here's the line that got me from this essay: "many of my clients experienced not just an absence of representation, but an absence of destination. "
This resonates with me so much I have tears in my eyes. As I struggle to find the words to include in my autobiographical documentation of my journey to survive a traumatic brain injury that I suffered on my last day working as a psychiatric nurse clinician, after 38 years, in 2024. More importantly, as a neurodivergent RN, I always knew how to where a mask to prevent any one from ever reading anything into my behavior. After a lifetime, there was a part of me that I couldn’t keep imprisoned under guilt and shame. I allowed a part of me hidden to finally exist, at 56 years old, in 2021. Now, with many disabilities and brain injuries after the felonious assault at my NYS OMH nursing job in 9/17/24 that has been on the news, I treasure my identity as a member of the LGBTQ community, as a bisexual healthcare professional, married to a woman, which is what I wrote on Grindr in 2021 when I first “came out” to my wife and daughters with no hidden life at all. I was so good at wearing a mask of invisibility, aside from being an advocate for anyone needing compassionate healthcare, I spent so long hiding that even in my semi authentic state 4 years ago, I was meeting people in communities unfamiliar to me, mostly leaning into my skills as an RN and volunteer working with people with terminal and permanent illnesses. I never told the few gay men I met that I was afraid, holding onto who I always wanted to be, but never was. I was an actor on the stage of life for so long, I was no-one, eventually. Now, I will not hide from anyone. I came so close to passing, with a TBI and a NDE, I want to advocate for other members of the LGBTQ community, who may be trapped in their own heads quietly hating themselves. I have been there, and I will work to help others find their own voices.
Gino, Your insights continue to amaze me! At 80 (81 in a few weeks) one would think I have heard it all. What you look at, you do in ways that never dawned on me but in looking at your perspective makes perfect sense and informs and clarifies and changes who I am after having heard it. I will re-read this post and react to parts of it. One thing I already see is that my enjoying my solitude, and leaving behind conscienciously not wanting to socialize as much, not enjoying the extrovert part of me and the "entertaining" of the "room" is because of the double program that has been running my life and actions for so long. Thanks. I am more than grateful for having found you! Fondly, Michael
Oh my gosh. This was beyond insightful. “Absence of destination” perfectly describes that lost 17-year-old who had absolutely no clue where to go in life, no lifelines, and would simply muscle through … and choose both
the being useful and the read the room programs.
I’ve become the architect!
This made me feel so good about myself, Gino. It’s not artifice and it’s not hiding anymore. It’s elevated architecture.
Not renovation or repair or excavating. Authenticity and agency. 🥰💕