(Prelude: I wrote this around month 1 or 2 after arriving in the desert. I received fb messages from other Utahns saying that I should change my public posts because they loved Utah and didn’t feel the same way I did when writing those posts. I never asked them to. It reminded me of family doing the same when I talked about my coming out experiences in a public way. They ask how I could continue to bring it up when it was so long ago. Its because that shit stays with you always, that’s how.) (I have to catch up on posts cause I have so much new fun stuff in my head that needs to come out).
The post….
So it’s true… I’m happier than I think I’ve ever been in my whole life. That’s saying a lot for a poor childhood onion farm worker, who was homeless in his teenage years and turned to drugs to hide all that hurt from being rejected from being gay when I came out in my later teenage years. That was a mouthful, we like mouthfuls, or at least I do. With that said, I’m tired of people telling me how I should feel, how I should express my feelings and how they disagree with the way I feel and what I say about it. Let’s get this straight, or homo, MY FEELINGS! MINE, MINE AND MINE! I don’t tell you how to feel. Don’t tell me how to express my feelings.
Short man’s long story short- homeless teenager, drugs, poor choices/HIV, school, some other residual poor choices, AS- BSW and MSW, adopting a kid, broken heart, run for office, traitor trump, harassment and moving to CA. That sums it up in a nice little nutshell for you; in case you were wondering who the hell is this bitch? And I know you all like nuts, not so sure about the shells.
Well, I’m gonna tell ya who dis bitch is, I’m someone who cares, who wants to give love, wants to be loved, and is deserving of love. The writing is my form of therapy, it makes me feel better to get things off my chest. It’s my way of purging my soul of the garbage life can be sometimes. I also left out that I did a lot of good shit for my community in Utah (between all the things mentioned above), I mean a lot! I was proud of it. I still am.
I didn’t always want to flea from Utah. I used to love it; I loved my home. That’s why I ran for office. I have to say running for office was a freakin cool experience. I got to see various rural places of Utah and meet people I would not have otherwise had the opportunity to meet. Not everyone wants to meet a brown homo with great eyebrows. At least not in Utah. I really loved that experience. It just got strange there for me the last few years and I don’t want to be there anymore. It eventually led to me buying a gun. I was never, ever, ever a gun person. I just didn’t know how to survive or protect myself without one. And I’ll tell you one thing, the bigots stop calling you a fag or faggot at the grocery store when you have a 380 strapped to your belt. (I literally had to call my baby brother right now and ask him what kind of gun I have, I couldn’t remember. I almost used the words, “pew pew” to describe it.) Because when it comes down to it, if it is between my life and bigot trying to hurt me, I’m going to choose me.
So, it leads me to say, if you’re not a Gay Latino with a high-pitched squealy voice who struggled with homelessness, got off drugs, and still gets knocked down a peg at every opportunity they get, I really don’t want your negative criticisms. I’ve had enough to last 5 lifetimes. Fuck you but no thanks. Feel free to keep it to yourself cause that shit is not welcome here. Our experiences are different. I don’t share the same experience as a white cisgendered LDS gay man raised with money who passes as hetero- I just don’t! Sadly, the comparisons are few.
I’ve had friends, family, strangers in Utah complain to me about my writings or when I post about my experiences. They don’t like me to shine a light on the negative issues in Utah or sometimes within my own family. Sometimes the truth is ugly, but it doesn’t make it any less real for me or others in my community if we don’t talk about them. Please don’t tell me how to feel or how to express my happy. I’m fucking happy and have never felt this free in my entire life! I’ve never experienced anything like it. It’s a wonderful glorious feeling and I hope you get to feel it sometime in your life too.
What happens when a person who helps you in your time of need, in turn is hurting and needs help? The answer is not very much. Besides my straight friend Joe, Shauna, Toni, Shelia and maybe two more people… not anyone of you longtime friends checked on me during covid or when my son ran away. It was a very lonely time for me. So, if you were quiet at that time, and now have negative criticism about me being happy or how I express it- I certainly don’t want to hear your opinion now.
Same goes for Palm Springs… I’ve heard a few complaints about how happy my facebook posts are. I heard they could be viewed as “too happy” or “be careful you don’t want to be seen as a joke or a clown.” There are many sides to me. I’m just getting to understand what true happiness is and what feels like. If I continue to express my happiness through my experiences, through my writings, and it bothers you then don’t read.
Again, we all have very different experiences and when I was busy getting dog food and oatmeal from a food bank to feed my dog, while attending community college, you probably weren’t doing the same. I hauled big bags of dog food many blocks back to my home just to feed my dog. When I couldn’t afford my place anymore, student loans were used up, I had to move. I had to give up that beautiful husky dog to a farm. It was heart breaking. You don’t get to tell me how to express my happy.
I get to be happy now and it’s about fucking time. And if happiness makes you uncomfortable that’s more of a problem with you than for me. I’ve been unhappy far too long at no fault of my own. Mostly because of external stimuli that chose to fuck with me and call me fag, or treat me different, or pay me differently for far too long. Trust me, there’s a bitchiness inside me that wants to cut a bitch, but I don’t let that come out. I’m much more pleasant happy, trust me. She’s been locked away because I’m not going to risk my license, my degree, my home, or my happiness on some crazy cunt who don’t know how to behave in social situations. If I do… it’ll be something that is completely an appropriate response for CA law and they will likely have a broken nose or blackened eye, and that’s me losing the fight. Let me win it and there will be more.
What I’m trying to say is- I don’t need to surround myself with people who are uncomfortable with emotions or happiness. I love both of those things. Men get to feel emotions and express them freely and if you don’t like that- than we don’t need to be in each other’s circles. You don’t need to come to my home, and I’ll avoid yours- deal? Deal!
I’m tired of people telling me how I should process my Utah trauma. When they’ve experienced nothing like it. It’s like saying, “Could you please not talk bad about your domestic violence abuser? I know they blackened your eye, and you barely survived the last fight but stop, because I love them! It really bothers me when you talk about how they called you a fag, tried to run you over with shopping carts, bothered you at work, tried to fuck with your ability to pay your mortgage, came to your home, and made you feel so unsafe that you had to go buy a gun when you never believed in them in the first place. I hear it over and over and over! So stop.
Not one of you gets to tell me how to feel or how to express myself (at least when I’m not at work). If you don’t like me- fine. I don’t care. You aren’t the first and won’t be the last. There’s something about me that makes people like that plentiful. I don’t know what it is and I thought I wanted to at one point in time, but I don’t. I’ll be fine. I’ve made my family here in the desert and a few friends too. I don’t need to be loved by everyone. I need to love myself and be happy. I need to be allowed to earn a living and pay my mortgage. I don’t want to sofa surf ever again if I don’t have to. So don’t interrupt my happy and I won’t interrupt your happy. Deal?
XOXO
The HAPPY HOMO
I get to fucking be happy- I hope it lasts for a long ass mother fucking time! Because it’s about damn time I feel this way!
