Gay men are born in gold and glory
Imagine when we are born—we are born with all our glory and gold, all the things that make us great, all the things that make us amazing and unique. All that we are, all our astounding potential, shines out with no repression or worries about who we are.
There is no one to bully us or tell us we are wrong. There is no judgment or worry that we could be wrong. There are no signals or signs that we are different from other people. We are born accepting everything we are as our birthright.
But then we start to hide our light
As babies and young children, we are utterly dependent on our parents. We want to maximise their love, so when we act in a way that displeases them or is wrong, we learn to hide that, we repress it.
For example, if we are always taught that anger is wrong, rather than learning how to be angry, we learn to repress our anger.
Each time we repress something to maximise the love from our parents, the shining light of glory dies a little. We put it somewhere else. In Jungian psychology, we call this the shadow.
Then, as we start going to school and we grow older, we learn that to fit in, we must act in a particular manner. There are good behaviours, traits, and actions that allow us to fit in and others that do not.
And so, more of our gold and shining are put into the shadow.
This process continues for most of our childhood and teenage years; by age 20, we have only a tiny sliver of our gold and glory left.
From being born with all our unique gifts and the things that make us special, we only have the smallest of shining left.
The struggle of being gay
As gay men, we learn that an inherent part of our identity is wrong.
As we grow older, we realise that we are different from others in some ways. We may not understand this as being gay yet, but we understand we are different. As does our family. And so we repress even more of ourselves into the shadow.
For example, we might learn that effeminate behaviour of any sort is not welcome—either by our parents, friends, or school environment. And this is true of any part of ourselves that might be perceived as “not right” for a boy.
And so we learn to repress it. But we also know—even if this is not conscious—that it is not the behaviour that is unwelcome but a part of who we are.
We might learn this because we are directly told and punished. But we also learn this in the body language of those around us. Perhaps a tiny shake of the head, a look of puzzlement as if something is not right, or how those around us somehow make fun of our mannerisms. Or bullying.
For me, it was often my voice!
But we learn over time that a part of ourselves is not welcome.
It is no wonder that so many of us struggle with confidence!
Check out the next article for how this struggle leads gay men into profound, prolonged shame that distorts our lives.