Age Appropriate

I’ve realized, when faced with situations in which I feel uncomfortable or somehow threatened, I become hyper defensive. Whether I am in a gay bar, daunted by the prospect of meeting someone, or surrounded by a cluster of heterosexuals I perceive to be making comments out the sides of their faces, I simply shutdown. I cannot be talked to or dealt with, I just need to escape. The problem stems from my maturity, or lack thereof. Through various circumstances in my life, I was forced to grow up at a relatively early age. However, in my rapid maturation I may have missed out on a lot of the actual growing, resulting in the emotionally stunted individual whose words you are now reading. Though I am twenty-one years old, twenty-two in early November, I am around twenty-five mentally, but around fourteen emotionally. This begs the question: whom can I date?

Involved, albeit briefly, with a forty-six year old, I tested the waters at too extreme a depth. But should I date a nineteen or twenty year old, I don’t know if I could handle being the older one in the relationship, even though we might have the same level of experience. As a late bloomer, sexually and socially, would it be more beneficial for me to date someone who is going through similar experiences, or someone who has already experienced the doubts and the questions and could help me navigate the treacherous waters of finding one’s self?

I contemplate these issues on what will quickly become the one year anniversary since I’ve last had sex. I can think of nothing else these days but companionship. Yes, I am horny—to the point of debilitation. But casual sex has never been my forte, despite my best efforts to the contrary. I’ve always needed a someone and that has always been the one thing to elude me. So when? When will I find my someone? I know the answer lies in me. I need to make changes in myself, to become more open, more accepting and more willing to find love, but a change that profound cannot occur overnight. Must I languish in desperation and loneliness until I am ready? Is there some sort of love starter kit…or was that high school?

The issue of when is a tricky one, but the question of where might be the most pertinent. After living in New York City for four years, the adjustment back to Poughkeepsie has been hard. I meant to write a piece entitled ‘I Blank NY’ upon my move back, but until now I have not found the wherewithal to discuss it. Leaving the city was like leaving the Technicolor world of Oz for the black and white humdrum of Kansas. There was no place like home, but my home was in New York. I had never felt like Poughkeepsie was for me, even though I came of age there for thirteen years. I always felt that my hometown was just a primer for my real home, my real life in the big city, but dreams never turn out the way they are supposed to. But the point I’m coming to is that being gay in NYC is not even a second thought. There are gay bars in every neighborhood, even historically gay neighborhoods. Since I’ve been back in Ptown, I’ve been to one gay bar, the one of about one and a half in this town, and it left much to be desired. So it’ s almost like, if I couldn’t find anyone in the gay Mecca that is Manhattan, what chance do I have at Griff’s Bar?

This is life. This troubling process is life. Everyone has to go through it and learn things about themselves. It’s just that the more realizations I come to and the more I learn, the more questions there are to ask and the fewer answers there are available. Then again, maybe life isn’t about the answers, but the questions, why we need to ask them and if we are, indeed, asking the right ones. I trust in time that I will find someone foolhardy enough to love me, and I shall look back at this period of immense isolation with a knowing smirk. Yet to get there, I need to stop shutting down and face the insecurities I’ve accumulated over the years like an adult. And here I thought that just paying bills and being unhappy was all growing up was cracked up to be.