I do not wish to be in the least youthist but the spectre of it has recently entered my life like a thorn in a lion’s paw- my partner and I have tried extending paws of help and friendship to the youngest out gay in our family [there are enough of us to make a statistician have nightmares- babies are quite literally hit with the gaystick or not by my man’s mother who has never been wrong- two more are cooking as I write.] The latest recruit to the fold is now sixteen and sexually active, though he was out as a fifteen year old and presumably at it then [whoops illegally- not so had he been a lesbian engaging in consensual sex with another fifteen year old lesbian FUCK YOU QUEEN VICTORIA and indeed Victorian family values.] I shall call him Blewitt. It makes sense- he has blown his chance of a fruitful and supportive relationship with his gay uncles.
Blewitt is not the brightest bunny in the warren though as with a lot of youngsters he is as sharp as a button when it comes to getting what he wants. What staggers me is that he is completely unaware of his advantages which are many- he lives within a totally gay friendly family that tolerates his every whim. He is beautiful and does not need to wear make-up but he does. His body language is feminine and he dreams of being a dancer. He has a boyfriend and his Facebook relationship status is set at engaged. His behaviour can be extremely trying but he is surrounded by a loving family who support him. That is a great boon because the town where he lives is riddled with bigotry.
It was never that easy in our day. NO- we are not jealous, we are unhappy that Blewitt has NO IDEA what had to change in society for him to be able to enjoy the life that he does today. He shows no interest in gay culture and has never ventured onto the scene. He is trapped in his own self-centric bubble where there is no need to struggle to find a method of self-expression. He is locked into a relationship that provides him with adulation, sex and material things. Experienced queers that we are we know it is doom laden. But the lad does not want to learn from us, his conversational skills are virtually nil, so what are we to do. I know exactly what we are supposed to do- sit and do fuck all until the inevitable crisis hits and then we will be supposed to pick up the pieces.
Picking up the pieces- the lot of the elders in any family.
This episode cuts deep. Blewitt’s dad died recently and we promised to look out for him. It’s proving to be hard. The lad is happy in his cocoon of ignorance and blithely unaware of life’s dangers. It got me wondering how many other gay teenagers are in the same position- there could be hundreds of thousands, all of them belligerent, unwilling to be told, they all know best until it comes to the first big test that fells them. Who will they turn to? Who will be there to pick up the pieces for them? CM
Image by CM for eye2eye designs international
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