Love me for what I am

About 12 years ago, I got into a relationship with a wonderful man. He was a fitness professional at Slimmer’s World; I met him when I tried to enroll in their weight-loss programs. Like I said, T was a wonderful man. He was independent, amiable, and generous. He also treated me very well. Although we were not intellectually compatible and had differing tastes in music, film, and the arts, we got along quite well. The sexual aspect of our relationship was equally wonderful. He was a fastidious lover, often seeing to my physical needs along with his.

However, our relationship lasted barely four months. I left him.

Why, one might ask. You see, T was what gays would call a non-scene gay guy. He never went to gay or gay-friendly bars, never attended gay or gay-related events, never knew what the word rampa meant. I don’t think he even had gay friends. Make no mistake, he’s not in the closet. He was quite open to admit that he was gay when I first met him. It’s just that the activities I mentioned didn’t interest him at all.

At that time, though I hadn’t officially come out to my family, I’d been out to my friends. My work with an AIDS NGO had brought me to a community of gay activists who helped me to accept myself. This being the case, I was the social opposite of T. I ate at gay-owned restaurants, shopped at gay-friendly shops, went to gay and gay-friendly bars, and attended gay events. Add to that the horde of new gay friends.

Like I said, T was a friendly-enough guy. He got in the good graces of my gay friends because of his personality (perhaps) and hot looks (most probably–hehehe). What he lacked for eloquence and wit, he made up for by being good-natured and gracious.

But still, I chose to end the relationship because he expected me to abandon my ‘old ways’ because I was already with him. Basically, he wanted me to stop going out at night with my friends. Later he admitted that he found it difficult to trust me completely because of my past behavior, which I had previously and candidly told him. I remember telling him, towards the end of our relationship, that he should’ve been flattered and honored by my honesty. It showed how much I liked/loved him. But instead he used the knowledge of my history against me and my trustworthiness.

Looking back, I had wondered if I was too hasty in deciding that I wanted out of that relationship. What if I at least tried ‘changing’ as he requested? Will our relationship have worked and lasted? He was quick to point out that I did not exert any effort to accommodate him. This was something that I was even quicker to dismiss as a complaint from an impetuous child. What had I been thinking then?

An incident involving my friend and her husband made me think of this period in my life. I am writing this very carefully because the last thing one wants is to get in the middle of a domestic squabble. Especially when both of the couple are your friends. I will not divulge any other details. I think it’s enough to say that my situation with T is very similar to their situation.

I was able to extricate myself from that relationship after I had decided to do so. Fortunately, as a gay man, I am not bound by the conventions of marriage and its supposed rules and roles (like my friend is). I think my primary reason for breaking up with T was I found it offensive that he was using my past as some kind of leverage to shift the balance of power in our relationship. Second, I was not ready (and therefore un-willing too) to give up my lifestyle, something that I had worked very hard to achieve and sustain.

Did this make me selfish? I won’t be surprised if many would think that I was. Now imagine if I were a woman. A woman who dared to assert and fight for what she wants for herself. Bitch would probably be the kindest word people would use to describe this woman.

Back then I probably didn’t say this out loud but my idea of a relationship is two people coming together while still retaining their unique individuality. I mean, when one chooses to be involved with somebody, it means that s/he accepts her/him, warts and all. I think the only way for a relationship to really work is for both people to stop trying to change the other. It is against my definition of social justice to ask, even expect, a person to change on account of a relationship, a family member, and most especially a religion. But of course, relationships are also about compromises, meeting half-way. In this case, if any change was to occur, it has to come naturally, not coaxed or forced.

T and I eventually became friends after years of estrangement. We have realized that we had different expectations from our relationship. I have a profound respect for individuality, and therefore I am equally protective of my own. As the song in the title goes, “Don’t love me for what you intend or hope that I will be.”

Because if one chooses to be intransigent and allows no room for adjustments, there is really nothing left to do but, “Let me go, I must be free.”