trebligon
Well-known Member
Forgive the jumble of thoughts.
I was looking at a thread about upcoming scenes and saw some posts by our controversial™ performer Brock Reynolds that joked (?) about being a disappointment to his dad and then saying his dad was actually dead. As is often the case when someone mentions their dead parents, I thought of my own dear mama, gone six years now.
I usually think of her in terms of her life, or her death, or that her essence is likely lost. This time, I wondered what she would think about where I am now, moving towards something finally, essentially in her honor, and if she'd be proud.
This inevitably makes me think of being gay and what that would mean to her. What it did mean to her. A couple of weeks before she died, she indicated (though I didn't get it at the time) that she knew and wanted me to be happy. This thought went against everything she'd been taught in her faith, or at least the acceptance of such behavior did. She was always more of a love the sinner, hate the sin type believer. But beyond that, I knew she wanted me to have kids.
She had no shortage of grandchildren, but they were from my idiot brothers knocking up girls while still in their teens (way to be stereotypes, hermanos). I know she thought of me as "the smart one" of her kids and wanted some specifically from me. She once asked me if I ever thought about donating sperm ("spreading your seed" as she put it). Man, was that awkward! It was clear she was disappointed in that regard.
Is it wrong that she felt that way? I don't think so. As much as I think "cancel culture" is mostly a nonsense term used to rile people up and grift, there is a tendency among certain people to condemn any thoughts that aren't unequivocally embracing every aspect of "queerdom." (I mean, wtf with the mullets, people?!)
Maybe who I am is so ingrained in the world I grew up in, but I do not have pride in being gay. I have reached a point where I don't feel shame either, but to me (and this is so cliche it makes me want to rip my face off) it is just a part of who I am. When I feel pride, it's because of something I accomplished. Something I strove for or earned. I'm proud of taking care of my sick mom, of being a good friend, of taking a risk and going to school. I'm no more proud of being gay than I am of having dark hair. I understand, kind of, that Pride is something other people want or need in their sexuality/gender, but it's not necessary for me. Maybe that's why I'm not offended by the disappointment she probably had.
I think I would have been a good father. I really like kids (not in a predatory way) and guiding someone into becoming a full-fledged human being and seeing the wonder as they learn would be amazing. Seeing my friends with kids themselves is a mixed bag. I'm glad I don't have to deal with screaming babies and stuff, but when I see those children being happy, or bright-eyed with wonder and learning, I get this sadness that I can never be involved in it.
Why am I thinking of this all? A couple of days ago, I was seeing a porn scene from a different site (sorry, guys!) and wanted to see if a model did other work. I found out that he did. But I also found out that he is a trans woman now. And I was disappointed. Not that she was a woman per se, but that a good-looking guy was now a middling-looking girl. I never understood the appeal of "chicks with dicks" so I was immediately turned off by her new appearance (she does "shemale" porn now). Then, as I am wont to do, I felt guilty.
I assume she's done this because it makes her happy. Maybe gives her pride. And being out is something to be proud of as a brave act, even in modern America which is far less progressive than people like to think. I am glad that she has self-actualized. Is it wrong to feel disappointed though? I thought, well there's always her historical record of acting as a man in porn, but then I was like, isn't it wrong to even acknowledge her past as a man? Use the right pronouns, never use her "dead" name, etc. But then I'm like, who the fuck cares? She's got to deal with its existence whether or not I enjoy her past work as a man fucking other men. She will never know I even exist.
But it nags at me.
I don't have a way to tie this altogether. Just Sunday morning thoughts.
I was looking at a thread about upcoming scenes and saw some posts by our controversial™ performer Brock Reynolds that joked (?) about being a disappointment to his dad and then saying his dad was actually dead. As is often the case when someone mentions their dead parents, I thought of my own dear mama, gone six years now.
I usually think of her in terms of her life, or her death, or that her essence is likely lost. This time, I wondered what she would think about where I am now, moving towards something finally, essentially in her honor, and if she'd be proud.
This inevitably makes me think of being gay and what that would mean to her. What it did mean to her. A couple of weeks before she died, she indicated (though I didn't get it at the time) that she knew and wanted me to be happy. This thought went against everything she'd been taught in her faith, or at least the acceptance of such behavior did. She was always more of a love the sinner, hate the sin type believer. But beyond that, I knew she wanted me to have kids.
She had no shortage of grandchildren, but they were from my idiot brothers knocking up girls while still in their teens (way to be stereotypes, hermanos). I know she thought of me as "the smart one" of her kids and wanted some specifically from me. She once asked me if I ever thought about donating sperm ("spreading your seed" as she put it). Man, was that awkward! It was clear she was disappointed in that regard.
Is it wrong that she felt that way? I don't think so. As much as I think "cancel culture" is mostly a nonsense term used to rile people up and grift, there is a tendency among certain people to condemn any thoughts that aren't unequivocally embracing every aspect of "queerdom." (I mean, wtf with the mullets, people?!)
Maybe who I am is so ingrained in the world I grew up in, but I do not have pride in being gay. I have reached a point where I don't feel shame either, but to me (and this is so cliche it makes me want to rip my face off) it is just a part of who I am. When I feel pride, it's because of something I accomplished. Something I strove for or earned. I'm proud of taking care of my sick mom, of being a good friend, of taking a risk and going to school. I'm no more proud of being gay than I am of having dark hair. I understand, kind of, that Pride is something other people want or need in their sexuality/gender, but it's not necessary for me. Maybe that's why I'm not offended by the disappointment she probably had.
I think I would have been a good father. I really like kids (not in a predatory way) and guiding someone into becoming a full-fledged human being and seeing the wonder as they learn would be amazing. Seeing my friends with kids themselves is a mixed bag. I'm glad I don't have to deal with screaming babies and stuff, but when I see those children being happy, or bright-eyed with wonder and learning, I get this sadness that I can never be involved in it.
Why am I thinking of this all? A couple of days ago, I was seeing a porn scene from a different site (sorry, guys!) and wanted to see if a model did other work. I found out that he did. But I also found out that he is a trans woman now. And I was disappointed. Not that she was a woman per se, but that a good-looking guy was now a middling-looking girl. I never understood the appeal of "chicks with dicks" so I was immediately turned off by her new appearance (she does "shemale" porn now). Then, as I am wont to do, I felt guilty.
I assume she's done this because it makes her happy. Maybe gives her pride. And being out is something to be proud of as a brave act, even in modern America which is far less progressive than people like to think. I am glad that she has self-actualized. Is it wrong to feel disappointed though? I thought, well there's always her historical record of acting as a man in porn, but then I was like, isn't it wrong to even acknowledge her past as a man? Use the right pronouns, never use her "dead" name, etc. But then I'm like, who the fuck cares? She's got to deal with its existence whether or not I enjoy her past work as a man fucking other men. She will never know I even exist.
But it nags at me.
I don't have a way to tie this altogether. Just Sunday morning thoughts.