Never did I imagine I would end up with the majority of my support system being gay men. Affectionately, I call them my harem. Most straight people think I am odd or weird because of this, but I know I'm lucky. As a single woman without a close family, they are my brothers, friends, confidantes, advisers, comforters, and supporters. Contrary to what the traditional straight world thinks, they are not my male girlfriends. They are men. And when I am with them, the gay/straight
personalities between us disappear leaving us simply to be human beings. All I know is that they are men I admire and they unconditionally accept me. Plus, they all have a wicked sense of humor.
For the past thirty years, gay men have figured prominently in my life. In the eighties, when HIV/AIDS took over as the number one public health crisis, I worked as a medical social worker for UCLA. During those years the HIV/AIDS patient population exploded, placing me in contact with many men afflicted by a devastating disease with a shameful stigma, a poor prognosis, and very few sympathetic medical clinicians. Even an unbelievable number of my social worker colleagues
voiced antipathy when asked to take HIV/AIDS patients on their caseload. Given their chosen vocation, I found my coworkers disdain and aversion of these critically ill and dying patients reprehensible. My response was to become a stronger advocate. Living through this appalling era watching gay men die enduring rejection and contempt strengthened my convictions about human rights.
As HIV/AIDS became treatable instead of an automatic death sentence, the issues of gay rights and cultural acceptance moved into the forefront. Their struggle paralleled the women's movement tightening my bonds with them. This became evident when I returned in the late 90s to California (from my own private homophobic Idaho) and met a gay man from the Midwest. There was an immediate connection, for me it was friend love at first sight. We had so much in common I kiddingly referred to him as my gay husband. More than any other gay man, he enabled me to see, experience, and understand what it is like to gay in a straight world. He taught me firsthand about the high price of being gay as a minority culture. Through him I met other gay men whose company I enjoyed. Hearing their stories of coming out and dealing with societal rejection made me realize how courageous it is to live life openly as gay. Eventually I found myself attending more events that were gay-related until one day I realized most of my friends are gay men.
When you love someone who is gay, you become sensitive to the slights, slurs, negative behavioral displays, discrimination, and threats they can encounter daily. You wake up to what it is like to be gay in a straight world with the realization of the cost to them psychologically, socially, physically, and spiritually. How can this not teach one to be more compassionate? The most shocking fact confirmed by numerous studies: high rates of depression and suicide. This is why I continue to be an ardent supporter of gay rights.
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