When I came out I can remember having a conversation with my father a few days after I came out. He told me “just please don’t get HIV”. This was when I was getting sober, so my memory was comparable to a hummingbird with ADD, so although there may have been other conversations that took place about my sexuality…I don’t remember any.
This was difficult to write, and may be difficult to read. Before we get started, I would like to offer a trigger warning to anyone experiencing addiction/depression/self-harm/suicidal thoughts or anything of the like. For those of you that might be confused about your sexual identity, I want to hear from you. If you don’t have anyone to talk to, let me be that person.
Do you want to know why I am a proud gay man? It is because I know the things that queer people before me have done. How ferociously they fought to allow me to be myself safely and openly. And although I may not have been able to witness the progress through the decades, I am appreciative beyond words to those who fought before me. RuPaul said that as gay people we get to choose our family. So here I sit, with clenched fists, bared teeth, and tears in my eyes because I am so proud. So unbelievably proud of the men, women, and nonconforming family I stand with and would defend even if my life depended on it.
Some of you may have guessed that the name “Wolfe” is a pseudonym and you would be correct. But, ‘Wolfe’ is no longer just a nickname. I am Wolfe.
For the past nine months, I have been gallivanting around the globe with one of my truest and dearest friends. But, for the past two weeks (a drop in the bucket by comparison) I have been trekking on my own to Amsterdam, Copenhagen, and Budapest. We were supposed to rendezvous in Hungary but, because of a mechanical malfunction on her flight, we will have to wait until Sunday when we arrive in back in Prague. Traveling on my own was like hitting the reset button for my mental health, then trying to blow on the N64 cartridge to get the fucking shit to start up again. I felt glitched, out of sorts, like I ceased to be myself.
What is home? Is it where you can hang your hat? Is it where the heart is? Or is it where you can comfortably take a shit?
Neither alcoholics Anonymous nor Narcotics Anonymous has ever really been for me. The gossip between members and continuous dialogue about giving yourself over to a higher power never buttered my bread. I was looking for a Socratic-style discussion group rather than the single file confessionals that I kept finding.