I’m Not Gay, So Deal With It

Written as a response to “Homophobia 101″ by Danton Remoto

Some of my best friends are gay.  I am very aware, and very confident, of my sexuality and my sexual orientation.  I can’t say I’m gender-sensitive all the time, but I do try my very best to be as gender-sensitive as a straight man could possibly be.

Then again, I’d like to sum up a sentiment with a series of rhetorical questions:

Yet why, oh why, do some people insist that I’m gay?  That there’s at least an ounce of homosexuality in me?  Why should some people demand that I “come out of the closet,” when there’s not even a closet to speak of?  Why do you continue to compare me to a gay person, as if you’re bent on proving that you, as someone who’s gay, are far more competent and able than I am?

Whoa!  I mean, WHOA!

I think of myself as a level-headed straight guy.  I happen to like being straight.  I live the lifestyle shared by many straight people.  Does it make me any less of a man if I don’t find anything erotic about two gay men getting it on?  Am I a lesser degree of a man for not getting aroused looking at gay striptease?  So I don’t look at a handsome man with the same longing gaze as a beautiful lady; does that make me a hypocrite?

I don’t think so.

Great men are judged because of what they do, not for their sexual preferences.  History never judges greatness on the basis of who a man sleeps with at night.  Yes, a gay man will reel off the names of so many historical figures who have had a shred of gayness in them, but I dare ask of that gay man to reel off the names of so many gay men who have the shreds of greatness in them.

Like straight men, not a lot of gay men are destined to be great.

I dare any gay man to show me how “green” his blood is.  And I will sure as hell show him that the difference in the color of our blood is not even remotely caused by him being gay, and me being straight.

To a certain degree, I admit to being homophobic.  But my own homophobia does not excuse me from exercising respect, or at the very least, restraint (which I’m not particularly good at).  But to say that I have “gayness” in me - and insist in its latent presence - is borderline ridiculous.  Eh ano ngayon kung hindi ako bakla?  I’m not “gay” by virtue of watching Brokeback Mountain, I can tell you that.

I respect gay people.  I will even applaud them if need be for showing their “true colors,” for all my applause is worth.  But “succumb to my inner gay?”  No freaking way.

There is none, and there never will be.  So deal with it.