So I just finished catching up on, which is a blog written by a former staff member of my undergraduate institution, who was also one of the advisors for Queers and Allies when I was president. It's filled with fun anecdotes and asides about her life as well as providing a great picture that LGBT experience life no differently than anyone else on a day-to-day basis. I know I don't have many readers because this isn't really much of a blog site, but I figured I'd post it here anyway.

Bottom line: Read it, it's great!

Anyway, reading her blog caused me to reflect about my feelings and attitudes toward life and myself. I found myself reflecting on a realization that hit me while at Creating Change a few weeks ago.

Prior to and during the beginning of the conference, I was petrified with nervousness about being around lots and lots of other gay, bi, pan, etc. men. (I'm just going to say gay for the rest of this entry to be concise, but in actuality I'm referring to people who's gender identity is near the male end of the gender spectrum and who prefer to engage in sexual relations with men.) I went through the first two days with a knot in my stomach and purposefully avoiding eye contact with anyone I didn't know. On the third day, I went to an extended three hour session that involved erotic energy stimulation and intimacy exercises, mostly through conscious breathing and Theater of the Oppressed. I exited the session much more relaxed than before, and feeling a great deal more comfortable being in the larger space of the conference itself (despite my worst "fear" of being hit on coming true, from a 50-something leather man. I backpedaled and he moved his interest elsewhere when he realized I wasn't interested).

Anyway, this set the stage for a realization that hit me when my friends and I went to the under-24 dance party in the main ballroom the following night. Everyone there, who were all in our age range, were doing the same exact thing we were: dancing with the groups from their schools. It was tangible that most of the people who presented themselves as male were not scoping the dance floor looking for an attractive guy to ask to dance, or leave and go to their hotel room.

And that's when it hit me. Most other gay guys around my age have the same or similar feelings as I do. I had always felt that most other gays around my age were all supremely confident and open about just going up to people to talk, dance, proposition for sex or a date, or whatever else falls in the more-than-friends sphere. Being on that dance floor and seeing and feeling the atmosphere just made it click that the vast majority of the other guys don't do that. They have just as many insecurities about talking to another guy or being hit on by one unexpectedly or unwantedly (not a word, I know, but it's late and my brain is too tired to rework the sentence). 
Ever since, I've been a lot more relaxed when around other gays, both at the conference and back at school. Now I feel like I could move to a largely LGBT neighborhood and not be hiding in my apartment worrying about manwhores knocking on my door to proposition unsuspecting little me.

I guess this just adds evidence the fact that LGBT people are just people. Not a separate subcategory of hypersexual social deviants living in their own spheres apart from the rest of the "American people."