Patient: Tommy

In his words:

“When I came out nine months ago, I was free. I was no longer bound by all the gender norms I had tried so hard to avoid. I think I fooled those around me pretty well.

I was gay. I was free. I could be myself. It was the most liberating time of my life.

It was a great time. I had a blast. New Orleans was a great place to come out. It wasn’t long before I realized I wasn’t making any real connections with gay guys. Then I moved to Washington, D.C. Lots of gay guys lived there!

After I moved to D.C. and began to explore the gay scene, pressure began to build. There were times when I doubted myself. I felt inadequate. Fill in the blanks. I wasn’t ___________ enough.

I had so many guys to compare myself to. It seemed as if they all had more. Their bodies and jobs were better. Some guys looked better. Their lives were happier and they had the right friends. There was a feeling of failure in me.

I enjoyed the club scene very much. A great escape into an imaginary world was the ‘circuit’ scene. I loved the music and tribal dance, as well as being around all the beautiful guys. However, I wasn’t one of them, and I desperately wanted to be. My determination, however, did not waver.

I started working out and eating carb-free. Although I lost the weight I wanted, it wasn’t enough. As a result, I bought steroids and began injecting them. My gym became my second job. There, I spent many hours getting my body to where I wanted it to be (or at least what it was going to be). Finally, it was enough for me to start getting noticed. It was great to be noticed.

I got a new haircut, wore trendy club clothes, and made several new friends. My weekends were filled with clubbing. After-hours parties followed. There were plenty of drugs to numb me and allow me to let loose. I began to blend in. It’s hard for me to say I belonged. Fit in, perhaps, but belong-who really belongs?

I left the club scene after getting involved in a relationship. To make my body as perfect as possible, I continued to work out at the gym. A little cosmetic work was done on me.

My goal was to be the perfect partner. For a while, we had an open relationship. That’s what good gay boyfriends do, even if I really didn’t enjoy it. After that relationship ended, I focused on my career.

In order to stay competitive in my field, I decided to get another master’s degree. Honestly, I didn’t need it. My goal was to maintain a competitive edge. My go-to had always been school, so I decided to earn another degree to gain security.

I excelled in my career and was promoted to power positions. My days are long and hard. The gym remained a priority for me. Despite anyone hinting that I wasn’t doing enough, I had to be the perfect employee.

I kept up with the latest fashions and trends. I visited all the gay hotspots. My travels included Rehoboth, Province Town, Fire Island, Paris, Barcelona, Sitges, Madrid, Amsterdam, and other popular gay destinations. I did things I later regretted and felt no real connection to anyone during that period. Moreover, I started losing contact with myself. It was hard for me to be authentic. Honestly, I had no idea what that word meant.

I eventually became involved in another relationship with someone who taught me what all good gays should be like, so I added a couple of things to the list. The face-down moment came soon after that relationship ended. I found myself at a famous sex club enjoying a bit of play (or party and play as the guys call it.) I was lying in a sling with my legs spread eagle and someone was trying to put his fist in my ass.

As I looked around, I saw a group of guys surrounding me. Their bodies were nice, but I couldn’t really make out their faces. It was too dark, a scene of darkness. Suddenly, it hit me. A subculture that I so desperately wanted to be a part of had its hand up my ass, and I was nothing more than a puppet.

I had no idea what I wanted from that sex club. My enjoyment of that sling was unclear. I was just following the crowd. It was as if everyone had their fingers on me, in me, pulling all the strings and making decisions for me.

No longer could I think for myself. There was no discernment on my part. Who had I become? In my mind, I felt like I was nothing more than a zombie walking around numbly, trying to maintain a certain image. That was a real wake-up call for me. There had to be more out there. I knew there was more to life than this superficial connection and disengagement.

I felt so disconnected from myself and the guys in that room. My authenticity was stronger before I came out. Leaving quickly, I excused myself. Everyone seemed unfazed by it. Another me was waiting to take my place in the sling.

I wondered, what was lacking in me? There was a deep desire in me to belong, to belong to someone, to belong somewhere. It wasn’t even as if I belonged to myself. I had spent so much time and effort for what? There was a sense of disconnect between me, reality, and everyone around me. Help was needed. I couldn’t cure my sick mind with my sick mind. Having to ask for help scared me to death.

Was I really that weak? Why were all the other guys having such a good time? Were they really? “Stop!” I said – “Who cares? It was this kind of comparison that led me here in the first place.”

Tommy’s story is disturbing but not uncommon. So many men can relate to Tommy’s going to extreme lengths to be perfect. They understand his need to feel worthy. They know what it’s like to numb themselves through alcohol, drugs, and work. The desperation gay men feel to fit in is immense.

Once in therapy, Tommy needed to address his issues. He had to dig deep and go back to his childhood to discover where his negative self-image and lack of identity began. Like all children, Tommy looked to his family to make him feel like he belonged. Children rely on their parents for food, shelter, and physical needs. But, more importantly, they look to their parents for love and acceptance. They believe and trust everything their parents say. They want their parents to teach them how to make it in the world.

Sadly though, young gay boys don’t get these things from their parents. Instead, their parents tend to criticize every little thing they do – the way they walk, the way they speak, and their mannerisms. The criticism may not be obvious, but the messages are received loud and clear by the child. Honestly, their parents make them feel ashamed.

Little boys are like sponges. They soak up and internalize all of their parents’ criticisms. Everything they hear helps determine whether they develop good or bad self-esteem. Their parents’ disappointment and shame become running scripts of who they are supposed to be instead of embracing who they are. By the time these boys reach school age, they have no idea who they really are. They already feel unloved. Natural cravings for affection and a sense of belonging become the central focus in their life. They have to learn a way to fit into a world that says they are not enough.

Young gay boys suffer rejection early in life from their own fathers and peers. If they’re lucky, their mothers will step in and try to shield them. But, sometimes, their mothers debase them too.

To cope, Tommy became invisible and tried to meet everybody’s expectations. Rather than being himself, he became a puppet. He let his father, mother, grandparents, siblings, teachers, coaches, and peers pull his strings. He learned to act like all the straight boys in school and did everything to avoid being teased.

Do we blame the other little boys? They were only doing what they had learned from their families. Perhaps, they weren’t given the tools to accept those who were different. Many of them were just as confused as the young gay boys.

Regardless of the reason, like so many gay and bisexual men, Tommy grew up without knowing how to have a positive relationship with other males. Gay men often pick up on cues for how to behave like a straight person. Then, they act on these cues to make others happy and fit in. The problem is, to be happy, you need to learn who you are and stop appeasing everybody else.

Like Tommy, some of us became great students. Some were charming, artistic, and creative kids. However, some became troublemakers, abusing alcohol and drugs to numb themselves. We simply could not deal with being different and feeling unloved. Yet, no matter how self-aware we may be, we still want to be loved. And more often than not, we seek love and approval from the people who refuse to love our true selves.

As children, we agree with our parents, family, and peers that we are unlovable. Then it becomes about self-preservation. We need to shield ourselves from harm. The critical narratives telling us that we are flawed are constantly playing in our minds. We are not enough, and we don’t think we’ll ever be enough. Yet, we still try. The criticism of others actually gives us hope.

If we are constantly told that we need to change, then change must be possible. And doesn’t religion have a superb way of doing this? Christianity is especially critical of gays. We often hear from the Bible that we are sinners and that sinners can be saved. All you have to do is announce to the world that you accept Jesus as your personal savior, and you will be saved! You will belong.

Of course, this message is nothing but a shame feeder. You are not enough as you are, but if you slice away parts of yourself, you will be enough to belong and be worthy of God’s love. If you become something you’re not, God will love you. But until then, you are a shameful sinner. What a cruel fallacy. How many men have given their lives up to Jesus to be saved only to find their sexual cravings and desires return? Then Jesus becomes your most prominent critic. Maybe one day, churches will stop using shame and fear to raise money. Perhaps they will learn that love and acceptance will bring about prosperity and true spirituality. The truth is that to experience joy, we must embrace who we are. We need to accept our sexual orientation and all the unique behavior that goes with being gay. That is what being truly human is all about. Unfortunately, the voices of “you are not enough” and “you are not worthy” will persist until then.

By the time gay men are adults, many have developed very sophisticated defense mechanisms to hide who they are. After his ‘ah-ha moment at the sex club, Tommy stated that he wasn’t sure who he was. Most gay men believed that once they came out, the horror would be over. They could be themselves. But what does that mean? We step into this new culture with a preexisting desire to be loved and have to rediscover who we are. Very few gay men come out and experience instant bliss.

Don’t get me wrong – for a few, it is that easy. But for the rest, it takes time to explore gay culture and where we belong. Until then, it’s a journey of perfectionism, numbing, and foreboding joy, which means that nothing good will ever last, so we better enjoy it cautiously. We already have built-in armor and neural pathways. The shame and self-criticism are fully engaged, and we begin to resist our authenticity once more. Instead of embracing ourselves, our defenses kick into overdrive. We truly believe we can attain all the ideals that are being thrust upon us. They are so easy to get caught up in – trying to achieve something that is not part of who we are – because we have been doing it all our lives.

As with all cultures, people have valued traits. Some have better features than average, some are just average, and others fall below average. Yet, regardless of where we stand on the scale, we believe we can achieve the “better than average” rankings. In fact, just as children are trying to survive in the heteronormative world, these gay-centric values become part of our new perfect. And like our child selves, we still carry the mantra “it can and should be attained. Attained at all costs. Our acceptance and belonging depend on it.”

Once again, our self-critical thoughts take the form of inner dialogue – a constant commentary and evaluation of what we are experiencing. It is harsh and brutal. But, unfortunately, the new narratives are the same as the old ones: “You are not enough, no one will ever love you, and if you show your true self, you will be hurt.”

Because of our unsupportive childhoods, we tend not to trust others. We think that if we let ourselves care about someone, they will eventually hurt us. And what a self-fulling prophecy that can be. Who has never been hurt by someone they love? It is impossible to avoid being hurt by someone you love over time. Hurt is something that must be worked through in any successful relationship. The fear of being hurt by others creates a state of extreme anxiety in our new interactions.

Unfortunately, people who are criticized and critical of themselves are more likely to criticize and judge others. For some of us, we are so concerned about being judged or condemned, we can never be fully present with others. We may even seek out friends and romantic partners who are critical, hoping they can give us insight into what is truly wrong with us.

The idea of someone telling us that we are fine the way we are causes suspicion and confusion. We must always strive for perfectionism on some level, or we believe we are worthless and have no purpose. The certainty of rejection and falling short is safer because it is what we are familiar with.

In our newfound culture, our minds latch on to our fear of falling short. These negative thoughts run on autopilot, ruminating over and over again in our minds. They are uncontrollable, intrusive, and recurrent. These shame scripts are the feeders of anxiety and depression.

And why? Because at any cost, we are still trying to connect with others. We desperately want to belong somewhere and to someone. We have not realized that things have changed and that we are not in survival mode anymore. We forget that we are grown and self-sufficient.

While in therapy, when Tommy finally grasped the idea of common humanity, he began to get better. But it took courage. Rarely can a patient realize common humanity in a one-on-one therapy session. It takes a group setting. But, when it happens, it is one of the most moving things a therapist can experience. As a therapist, I have never felt anything more moving than seeing a group of individuals show compassion for each other.

Ironically, the idea of having group sex with complete strangers (as Tommy was) can seem more accessible than opening up and being vulnerable to a group of peers. Truth be told, you are actually vulnerable in both scenarios. The idea of a group session can be terrifying because many people don’t want to accept their need for interconnectedness. Especially if they’ve been marginalized all their life and their survival was based on disconnection.

Not all gay men are like Tommy. Some are thriving, fulfilled adults. However, many never get there. Their self-destructive behavior destroys them. Beneath the facades of perfection and beauty are war-torn victims suffering the after-effects of trauma and shame. Anxiety, depression, addiction, and numbing behaviors are the result. Many remain like the little boy trying to hide his true identity.

As men, we have to ask: Do we know what authenticity truly means? Are we brave enough to show up and indeed be seen? Do we feel we deserve what we need and want in life? Do we feel worthy of true belonging and the acceptance of our imperfections and our humanness? Can you give yourself the gift of genuinely experiencing common humanity?

As gay and bisexual men, we have resilient stories to tell, but only if we choose to own them. Many men I see have dared to attend my “Daring Way™” and “Rising Strong™” intensive weekend retreats. These retreats focus on shame, courage, and resilience from the research and methodology of Brene’ Brown. I am continuously struck by the courage and vulnerability of the men and women who attend these retreats. I am moved by the common humanity felt in them. In these groups, common humanity is no longer a concept – it is warm, loving, compassionate, empathetic, energizing, and relieving. Even this description doesn’t do it justice. They are powerful experiences that I wish for everyone. They give the information and tools you need to be truly happy. People who participate in these workshops leave clear on what steps they need to take to be satisfied.

Please contact me if you are interested in attending one of the “Daring Way™” or “Rising Strong™” retreats.

If you are interested in attending one of the “Daring Way™” or “Rising Strong™” intensives, please contact me. You can also visit my website.

I would like to acknowledge two authors and their books in creating this blog.

1. Rising Strong and Daring Greatly by Dr. Brene Brown
2. Self-Compassion by Dr. Kristen Neff.

My name is Joseph LaFleur. I am originally from Southwest Louisiana, but now I live and work in Washington, D.C. I am a licensed psychotherapist and certified Daring Way™ facilitator. I provide individual therapy and facilitate Daring Way™ and Rising Strong™ intensive weekend retreats for my patients and others interested. I also practice psychodynamic and somatic experiencing treatment.