JANUARY 10, 1997 GAY PEOPle's ChroNICLE 21
BIG TIPS
Am I the only gay man who notices women's breasts?
by M.T. "the Big Tipper" Martone
Hmm. I got a small box of Bisquick. It had a bug in it. I called and lodged a complaint, and they sent me a coupon for a new box, any size, so I went out and got the biggest box I could find. Now I'm afraid to use it because there might be a bug hidden somewhere in it. By the time I get up the courage to open it, it probably will. Where could this possibly
end?
Dear Big Tipper,
I'm not sure if a woman can reveal the answer to this mystery, but you are a lesbian, so maybe you can.
I am a gay man in my early 30s who is quite secure in his identity. I've been out since college, and out to my family for over ten years. I've had a series of relationships, of varying lengths, and I've never seriously questioned my gayness, but my current lover just pointed out to me that I have a behavior that seems to be less than totally homosexual.
I stare at women's breasts, or more particularly, their bras. I never really thought about it, but I'm just fascinated. I don't think I actually want to touch a woman's breasts, but there's something about them.
I've never actually seen a woman nude or in her underwear, in person, but I've looked at pictures in lingerie catalogues, and that's not very interesting: there's just something about them in person.
This isn't presenting a huge challenge to my identity, but now that it's been said out loud, I notice it more, and I wonder if I'm the only gay man in the world who notices women this way. (Oh, and by the way, I have a few friends who do drag, and I've noticed that bras don't have the same "oomph" for me when they're on a man.) Any thoughts on my fixation?
Dear Twins Fan,
Bra Queen
Ironically, although I possess many snappy brassieres, and the contents, and I enjoy a nice pair of hooters on a woman whom I already respect for her mind, I am missing one critical qualification to advise you: I was never a 12-year-old boy.
Since most kids aren't out at that age, and of my friends, no one was out at the time, my junior high recollections of seminal bra culture are of predatory, dirty-nailed boys for whom the mere furtive snap of a strap was apparently a thrill comparable to sex itself.
I guess, all of a sudden, girls had something that boys didn't have, and that the boys probably weren't even going to get to touch for several years. The untouchables were even more mystical for they were housed in sort of an Ark of the Covenant by Fruit of the Loom.
Even if you weren't particularly sexually aware, or you even knew that you weren't interested in girls, it's hard to lose the pack training you suffer at that age. (I still have a secret belief that Bonnie Bell Lip Smackers make me sexier.)
This interest doesn't necessarily make you "less than totally homosexual," although nobody says you have to be a Kinsey 6 to be a happy man lover for the rest of your life. You might consider asking one of your women friends to show you hers (in oxchange for, well, you showing her yours, I guess): A lesbian friend of mine just recently saw her first penis (a willing friend's) and he was even nice when she laughed. This is what we do for each other.
Dear Big Tipper,
I don't know if there's really a solution or a remedy for my situation, but I'm sitting in the laundromat waiting for my clothing, and I have all the time in the world, so I guess I'll write a letter.
I recently moved because it was just țime
for something new. I was living in Manhattan, so I'm used to city living, but all of a sudden I feel incredibly isolated. I'm pretty flexible, and have relocated before, for college, and once for a job, and I've never had such a hard time.
I know it will just take time to make new friends, but for now I'm very, very lonely. I'm not much of a dancer, but I went out dancing the other night just to be around other lesbians, and it was predictably unpleasant since I didn't know anyone. I just felt invisible.
I have a couple of leads on jobs, but I'm still looking for one, so I don't have any office-mates to meet, or meet people through. I really want to make it work for me here, but it's been almost a month, and whole days seem to pass without my talking to anyone, and I feel unrooted and nervous and fearful and lonely. Wow! That's a lot for one question. I've only seen one of your columns. Is this the kind of letter you do?
Lonely Laundromat Gal
Dear Owner of a Laundry Heart,
You'd be surprised at the kind of letters I've done. But that's all in my sordid past. Now I'm doing yours.
There probably is a solution for your troubles, but it's just for productive time to pass. I know I feel my most distressed when I'm between things: packing to move, or between jobs, or even waiting to hear if something is going to happen that'll call for a change.
It's not just scary to not know what's next, but the entire rhythm of your days is disrupted. You may not even be getting out of bed on the same side. Everything that you could just do on autopilot before, now requires investigation and dealing, and that's exhausting. You might even let yourself get hungry because you're not used to the new grocery stores, and then you're tired and hungry, and your friends are all a long distance phone call away.
Give yourself credit. It may seem silly, but make sure you drink enough water, and keep good food in the house, and reward yourself at the end of a day of pavement pounding with a call to a friend, even if it has to be short. Create a pattern for your days, and that'll perpetuate itself. Get a cup of joe at the same place each morning, and folks'll start to look familiar. If you keep going through the motions, you will land a job, and things will fall into place like they did in your other home cities. Good luck.
Send your questions on life and love to M.T. Martone, çare of the Chronicle, P.O. Box 5426, Cleveland 44101; or fax to 216631-1082; or e-mail to ChronOhio@aol.com.
JOHN R. O'CONNOR LISW ACSW
Clinical Social Worker Individual
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