living.in.technicolor

thepostgrad:

Today, I had one of those “unpretty” days. 

You ever have one of those? They’re the absolute worst. You feel so uncomfortable in your skin and clothes. You just want to strip everything off, peel away the layers, and maybe just curl up and let the night take over. 

You don’t have to necessarily start your day feeling “unpretty”. For me, it’s usually a single moment or situation that triggers it. 

I went shopping today at the H&M in Fashion Valley. With it being Black Friday and nearly 3 PM, I didn’t expect to find anything of worth. Now, for those of you that know SD, this particular H&M is a gay epicenter. Especially on the weekends, the store is favored by many gay folks looking to pick up something cute and relatively cheap. 

So, as I walking the aisles, I started to feel relatively anxious. I looked around and saw so many nicely dressed folks. I wasn’t in anything frumpy, ragged, or torn. My outfit was as plain as can be: brown newsies cap, black Upper Playground t-shirt, and black skinny jeans. In fact, this outfit was a particular favorite of mine since it reminds me of my favorite memories (and men) in The Bay. 

But today, I was feeling incredibly washed out. 

The gay men around me were different. Their jeans were premium denim, their outfits carefully tailored and calculated. They wore cashmere sweaters, J.Crew plaid shirts, desert leather boots with intended wear & tear, and had perfectly sculpted hair. Their jawlines were sharp, their skin powdered and flawless as can be. 

Normally, I wouldn’t mind or take notice of other men. Yet, I couldn’t help but feel like a stranger in this unofficial gathering of gay men.

It brought me back to familiar places of being unnoticed, untouched, and unloved.

An old friend and I recently talked about how as Asian men, we often become invisible at gay venues. Even at places like Rage and The Castro—-where gay Asian men are seen as demigods of the dancefloor—-our eyes are often unmet. My friend and I decided that perhaps we’re too different. That maybe, we exist on the fringes outside of being a fetishized object or a tokenized popular gay male. 

Today brought me back to how identifying as queer makes it difficult to dialog with a lot of folks. That when I slip on my earrings, wear my headband, and speak so openly about sex, many folks turn away or simply smile without comment. As I become more in-tune with being queer, it seems the less I have in common with others. 

Today brought me back to how San Diego and LA men have shown me apathy as I open my mouth. How I find others labeling me as intimidating, powerful, and inspirational. How “being a community figure” makes it hard to connect with others. (What does that even mean to be a community figure?!) Hell, it still surprises some people that I rarely get hit on, flirted with, or asked out. 

Feeling different is nothing new to me. 

But as I get older and closer to the big 30, I sometimes wonder if it would be easier to be simply play into the norms of “gay”. To strip myself of being politically queer and simply just going with it. To not be so critical. 

In these moments of isolation, feeling unpretty comes fairly quickly. To feel like you’re always looking in is the quickest way to burning out. 

I hesitated writing all of this. My moments lacking self-love come every now and then. Some folks have been quick to call me out when I’m venting. 

“Nate, for someone that fights for self-love and doesn’t care for standards, you sure are worrying a lot right now.”

To that, I usually just laugh. Even sex positive people feel unpretty.