The East Benders

The Old Gimp

Being gay is motley. If you believe you are a humble, charismatic and non-judgmental being, you are utterly lying to yourself. In our world, we are brutally critical, shamelessly self-centered, and in our darkest hour, insecure. What haunts you during the night ? What thoughts make you a bitch ? Is it the burden of not seeing your envisioned future you had planned out in your sophomore year of college ? Is it the hostility of keeping your finances in tact for another year ? Is it your non-existent sex life ? Or perhaps it’s the reflection you stare at in the mirror everyday. The young, sassy, confident twenty-something year old with full dark hair, sparkly eyes, and translucent skin is no longer in front of you. He’s been replaced by the real world and bares a man of wisdom, courage and strength that has taken a toll on his surface. Dark hair with streaks of silver, dimmed eyes and elusive skin.

Age is lethal among us gays (or so we like to believe it is). It’s the cause of insecurity, stress, and lack of self-motivation. The smoldering shades of twenty somethings that suffice the city remind us that youth is empowering. Beautiful. Eminent. Everything. Youth has the open expansion of creativity, invitation and leadership. If you are 30+ and reading this, it probably tasted like vinegar in your mouth. In this millennium, youth are exalted and age is accountable. This causes many men in their primes and mid years to develop a strong emotional amount of ageism among the younger gays. I can’t blame you. You deserve to feel scorned. The pyro of a half-naked, supple skinned, anglo-saxon, twink dancing to auto-tuned melodies in a $20 covered nightclub bring you anguish. Whatever happened to the days when gay men could just sit in a venue unabashed with an apple martini and play the life of the party without worrying if their black Italian pique polo is slimming them down ? Without feeling obligated to walk around a bar in a voyeuristic fashion ? Without feeling like a wallflower because a group of young, fresh socialites put on a full Beyoncé choreography in the middle of the floor ? I comprehend why ageism has absorbed many older gay men. We (youth) are obnoxious, immature, arrogant, heartless and unprepared. That, is all a stereotype just like how youth is powering.

I decided to write about this article one foggy, morning in a studio apartment at the Silver Towers overlooking Hell’s Kitchen. I could clearly see the rooftop of Midtown’s newest gay resort, “The Out”.  Checking all 300 emails, I found a Facebook invitation to a closed group. The flashy, glittery advert I saw in front of me intrigued me. I wanted this. In bold lavished font “GORGEOUS GAY 20-SOMETHING” was lustful. A 20-something-members-only group dedicated to the most beautiful, attractive young men. No primes, no mid-years, no geezers. Simply young, flawless men. It’s every gay man’s fantasy. I’m honoured to have been invited. What I have a problem with is the title. “GORGEOUS GAY 20-SOMETHING”. Is there not any attractive older men ? Is that not a possibility ? As much as we are adored and are the older men’s future in innovation, why shall we place them in a grey area and praise a vane 20 year old ?

When I began dating, I also (unintentionally) dated international men. But what stood out from my father and I was, I dated older men. My first boyfriend was a 22 year old Belgian model. I was 18 years of age at the time. For a year and a half I was in love with a brilliant, educated, witty Walloon that swept me off my feet spontaneously. When our relationship was over, I moved on to a beautiful 27 year old Argentinian. Who swooned me over his intellect and appreciation of the arts. We lasted for a year. And over the summer of 2011, I met an average-joe, pale 37 year old Australian that won my heart and became my summer fling. Adventerous I became and completely savvy of my life. These blissful memories of these amazing men I shared my life and body with played in my mind like a Kate Winslet Sundance film.

I date older men because despite my twenty-one years of my existence, my mentality was aged like a forty-five year old East Coast corporate junkie. I love every bit of my intellect. It’s what seperates me from the average 20-something year old. And as I sat in that stone cold apartment facing Eleventh Ave, it dawned on me, I dated older men not only because of my old soul, but because what I fear the most is an older generations labeling me as a lost, sexualized 20-something year old in Manhattan. I am far from that stereotype, I am a grade-A, free spirited, confident, independent individual who sets his own rules in life. I laughed out loud and sipped my latté in that cold room realizing that I was a hypocrite. Pointing out ageists when you yourself are an ageist is the most revelating experience. I fear of sitting in the delirious youth box the same way an older man fears of sitting in the tired, old aging gimp box. Age is lethal. It knows how to play with our thoughts, resurrecting blissful youthful memories, and darting us with cruel dark memories of our present.

Perhaps that why Karl Lagerfeld hunts down East European 25 year old models as his play date. Dating a younger individual reminds you of what it is to feel young again but they also remind you of why you aren’t young again. They remind you of what you once had and what you lack now. They remind you of what you missed out in life and what you could still do but never will get the same gratification. The people in my life have always told me I was dangerous. I don’t carry a single trait that is threatening but now that I’ve understood the lingo, I realized I am very lethal. I am desirable but a burden of what you will never have again. I enjoy being dangerous. But I also despise how it holds me back from my inexperience. We can honestly draw conclusion that ageism will never be cured, but it should never be a javelin.

We must all realize, we will get older and be replaced by an energetic, high velocified young man. One day, we will feel the same burden our previous generation felt. It will be twice as hard, twice as frustrating and twice as miserable. Enjoying your youth is a gift. Taking it for granted is a demise. Our destinies are set in stone somewhere unknown but our actions are what lead to them. That’s a food for thought.