They are all perfect

One of the things some of my close and sincere and totally accepting straight friends don't get is the enormous variety within the gay community and the fact that we don't all get along just because we're gay. Racism and bigotry exist everywhere.


But that's not what I'm really writing about. There is a less serious aspect to our diversity, but which occasionally is brought to my attention. It's the discrimination that more effeminate men sometimes experience. It's one thing to find certainly personalities not attractive to you. That's the nature of attraction. But it's another thing entirely to belittle or denigrate men who are not as butch or masculine, whatever masculinity really is.

I experienced this recently with both a gay friend and a straight friend, on separate occasions. Not directed at me personally. The gay friend was simply commenting on how he doesn't like to be around effeminate guys. The straight friend was talking about a gay friend of mine. Neither of them was being intentionally rude, but caused me to reflect on my own feelings.

At one time, more obviously gay men, at least stereotypically gay, made me uncomfortable. When I was living the straight life, such men were only more visible reminders of my own denied reality. However, since coming out, I find myself enthralled by the wonder of our diversity. The gifts that we each bring to the table and the rewards of relationship with so many different people.

Today I found myself flipping channels and came across The Last Samurai, about half way through, and watched it to the ending. I've always enjoyed it and found it moving as a story of personal redemption and finding meaning in life. Today, I picked up on something I had missed.

Katsumoto was working on a poem about cherry tree blossoms, struggling to fnd the last line. He told Nathan Algren that a lifetime spent searching for the perfect blossom would be a life well spent. Later in the movie, as he was dying in he saw petals blowing in the wind and uttered his last words, "They are all perfect."

The realization that each blossom was perfect in itself, what it was meant to be, is a powerful one. As we are each the image of God, we are each perfect, each in our own way. I hope that I am always able to hold that truth both for my own life and for those of all the perfect images of God I meet along my journey.


On a completely unrelated note, I had an actual, honest-to-goodness date this week. A go out to dinner and drinks sort of date. It was good, and fun, and we're going out again.

-David