As one of two publicly gay couples in
Lewistown, almost everybody knows
who we are. There's little doubt that
we stand out. The Passion Pit plus our
togs, mode of transportation, and all
other accoutrements demand attention.
Like aliens from Mars we've infiltrated
this community and are quite happily
ensconced. The fact is we are and will
always be transplants. And fortunately,
it seems that nobody wants us to be
anything but "us." And that alone is
reason enough to live here in paradise.
Perception is reality. However often one's
self perception is not always what others
view. Last night I was told that somebody
called me "the big one." That description
couldn't be farther from my truth. Slowly
I've evolved into a big mouth in an even
louder sport coat without even realizing
it. Deep down I still consider myself an
awkward, skinny, closeted youth. Thus
that gentleman of advanced age and girth
who looks back at me in the mirror can't
possibly be me. Rather he's seems to be
some odd vestige of cocktails past.
We are what we eat (and drink.) And
there is no doubt that I'm a hedonist.
Not only do I adore fine cuisine and
wine, I've never met a bag of potato
chips I didn't LOVE. Hence depriving
myself is virtually impossible. Which
is obviously why I've lost my battle
of the bulge. That said, I'm more than
happy with my self inflicted girth as
I've NO intention of dieting nor of
limiting my pursuit of pleasure. If I'm
out of control then so be it. As long
as I'm happy and healthy who cares?!
There's no doubt that I'm delusional.
While fully aware of who I am and
how others perceive me I can't see
what they see. For most of my life
and career I deftly leveraged all of
my assets. However I'm unable to
shake my preconceived self notion.
It's obvious that I'm stuck in a rut.
While in theory I'm fully aware
that I've become a different person,
I hit flash back mode upon reflection.
Oddly the guy who should readily
embrace the new me can't or won't.
Why is it that most of us can't give
ourselves a break? Sadly we're our
worst enemy. Rather than celebrate
our evolution we reject the result of
decades of hard work. How could
anybody assume that they're frozen
in time? Even more important, why
reject all of the progress that you've
achieved post puberty? Yet that deep
inner voice, the one that whispers to
you in your time of greatest distress
continues to be unable or unwilling
to acknowledge who you truly are.
Darling "D" is glamorous, beautiful,
funny, and smart. There is no doubt
that she stands out from the crowd
and can work any room to her favor.
Yet deep down, lurking beneath that
polished surface is a Polish girl from
Jersey. At her most vulnerable "D"
quickly forgets all that she has deftly
accomplished and sinks back into the
Meadowlands muck of her youth. My
question is whether that's a good or
bad thing. Could the ghosts of our
past be the keys to our success?
Who knows what motivates some to
excel? Most successful people were
once outcasts. Rarely does the most
popular boy or girl in high school
become a CEO. Rather most leaders
are propelled to overcome their self
inflicted obstacles that nobody else
sees. Said "baggage" is the reason
they are where they are. And while
fully aware of their accomplishments,
enough is rarely enough. Self inflicted
torture has made them who they are
today and who they'll be tomorrow.
Are you as tired as I am? If nothing else
I ran the course and finished with some
level of dignity. Self flagellation thrills
some but at this point in my life it's not
an activity I'm inclined to participate in.
At this point it's time to think BIG. To
embrace my personal reality and end
the mania of trying to be someone who
I never was. Whatever I had to prove
was long ago satisfied at a high school
reunion. It's the dawn of a new day and
whoever that fat guy is in the mirror...
I like him! I really like him!