I met up with a new friend for lunch yesterday. We met on Scruff, had a nice chat, and decided to meet up in person. Easy peasy. No stress. No mess.
My new friend is a handsome devil, and y'all know how much I love me some eye candy. He's also smart, thoughtful, and a recent arrival to Southern California, so we had plenty to talk about during our "getting to know you" lunch date.
Even though we met through a hookup app, we weren't there to hook up. We were there to gab and grub. During our conversation, he mentioned having been married to a woman and having relationships with men too. Naturally, my curiosity kicked in.
I don't know why it matters to me, but I've always been fascinated by how we label ourselves: Gay. Straight. Bi. Pan. Queer.
The LGBTQ community has an ever-expanding collection of labels and identities. Some people find comfort in them. Some find community through them. Some spend years searching for the one that feels like the perfect fit.
So I asked my new friend how he identifies.
His answer stopped me in my tracks: “I’m human.”
That was it.
No long explanation. No dissertation. No curated identity statement.
Just “I’m human.”
And by every piece of evidence available to me, he certainly is. As am I. As are you. As is everyone we know, regardless of race, gender, gender identity, sexuality, religion, nationality, political affiliation, or any of the other categories we use to divide and sort ourselves into groups and tribes.
The more I thought about it, the more profound his answer became.
Labels can be useful. They can help us describe our experiences. They can help us find people with similar backgrounds and interests. They can help us feel seen when we've spent years feeling invisible.
I certainly understand their value. For much of my life, finally being able to say, “I’m gay,” felt liberating.
At 53, however, I’ve come to realize labels can be used as both bridges and fences.
Sometimes labels encourage us to focus more on our differences than our similarities. Sometimes they tempt us to place people into neat little boxes when human beings are anything but neat.
Life is messy. People are complicated. Most of us are works in progress, figuring things out as we go.
The older I get, the less interested I become in putting people into categories and the more interested I become in understanding their stories.
What makes them laugh?
What keeps them awake at night?
What breaks their heart?
What gives them hope?
What lessons have they learned the hard way?
Those answers tell me far more about a person than any label ever could.
My new friend reminded me of something simple that's surprisingly easy to forget:
Before we’re gay or straight…
Before we’re Republican or Democrat…
Before we’re Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Mormon, atheist, or anything else…
Before we’re young or old, rich or poor, native or newcomer…
We’re human. Flawed. Confused. Hopeful. Imperfect.
Trying. Learning. Growing.
Doing the best we can with the time we’ve been given.
And in a world that seems determined to divide us into smaller and smaller camps, maybe remembering our shared humanity isn’t optional. It’s fundamental.
Keep calm and human on!
Clint 🌈✌️
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ends 06-30-26
FROM THE ARCHIVES
BORN THIS WAY ON THIS DAY
06-18 = Agnes Goodsir (1864-1939) = Australian artist 🌈
06-18 = Raymond Radiguet (1903-1923) = French novelist and poet 🌈
MAN CRUSH OF THE DAY
“I used to think anyone doing anything weird was weird. Now I know that it is the people that call others weird that are weird.”
Paul McCartney