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This Pride remember age is just a number

Steven Smith celebrates turning 63 and Pride Month.

By being pictured by celebrity photographer Graham martin. Embarrassing having pride in himself and his body. 
Graham Martin shoots me for Pride at any age

It is Pride month and lets all get out and enjoy ourselves. Age is just a number I could not agree more with the divine and fellow Gemini Joan Collins’ statement last month, “It is rude to ask a lady her age”. Or a man, come to think about it. Even though the divine Ms Collins never missed a moment to mention age.

Trust me, it is certainly a no, no at any social occasion. My dread at any dinner party is when age raises its ugly head and someone says, “Guess how old I am?” I just want the floor to open and disappear when that one is asked. Or when some ill-advised fellow diner thinks it is appropriate to ask a guest their age. 

As for me, I am incredibly proud to have reached my age, joining the likes of Tom Cruise and Boy George. It is a joy to be alive and fully active, with just a little more knowledge in life, though I am still prone to a youthful mistake or two! Some people’s issues around age ruin it for others. At a luncheon party I was not looking forward to the subject cropping up.

Here he comes, the age phobic. It had not started off well as everyone was late including us, my friend had changed shoes at least three times and had an army of beauty things to do before setting off. We were first there. I must add my friend is also proud of their age and looks stunning. However, they did look a little perturbed to be first there and not making a grand entrance for the other guests to marvel at how great they looked.

It meant that instead of sitting with my long-term friend who is in his twenties (but I swear is in his seventies and just made a pack with the Devil to inhabit a young man’s body, being wise, intelligent and witty well beyond his years), I was sitting next to someone new.

I love meeting different people, though it did hit me almost immediately that his Instagram pictures were airbrushed to make him look much younger than in person.

But then who does not tweak their image sometimes, though there are those that go overboard and can turn themselves into an embryo. It did not take long for age to become a topic. He kept referring to my friend as “the young one”. He asked if I went out much in London.

I replied that I went out to events during the week but at weekend I was comfortable at home, although I did go to clubs occasionally at the weekend and charity dinners. It started, “Well at our age you don’t want to go clubbing, do you?” He honestly did not stop.

Graham Marin Photography https://www.grahammartinphotography.co.uk

Moving on I shared that on holiday or before going out it was great to have a small siesta. “Oh, you mean a na, na nap,” he jested. “I bet it used to be a disco nap. But at our age…” “Darling,” I explained, “I do not do the age thing or put labels on people.” My “young” friend whispered later, “He is projecting how he feels about his own age on to you”.

It was interesting to find out the other so-called young ones felt the same way about him and meant to pre-warn me as it was my first encounter. It must be terrible to be threatened by someone who is comfortable in their own skin. I think he was one of those men who got on better with woman as he seemed to charm them.

Age is just a number, or so some believe. Sure, I am not often “clubbing”, but this is not because I am 63 and feel out of place. I always envisioned myself with a blue rinse, fan dancing with the best of them at a rave in my 80s! It is more because

 I do not have the time, and that London has become so diverse there is so much else to do. Plus, my priorities with my free time have changed; bars are no longer high on my list. There is the added point that I am fortunate enough to get invited to a fair few glitzy events too. I just wish people would enjoy and love the moment they are in and stop pushing age groups into boxes. Be who you want to be. Yes, age is just a number, but there is no need to keep bringing it up.

Graham Martin is a premier gay and celebrity photographer, who, as well as shooting the likes of Denise Welch and Dame Judy Dench Additionally, makes some of his bread and butter shooting gay men’s profile pictures for online dating sites.

Yours truly with Graham

So what percentage of the men are my age or older? “It is 50:50 recently. I had a man that was 76 come for a shoot not long ago. He had been off the scene for seven years as he had become addicted to chem-sex parties.” Graham told me that the man is doing really well and is now happily dating once more.

Graham, who turns 60 this year, has been in a loving relationship for the last 32 years. He puts his success down to marrying his best friend and he does have a point. Perhaps the fact that I was with my best friend for 18 years makes it difficult to fill the void. Should I be looking for someone sexual first, developing a friendship second?

Graham told me that the dating scene has changed so much that he gets inundated with men wanting pictures for their profiles, as well as portrait shots. Men, whatever age, want to look their best. “Keep it real!” Graham informed me when giving tips for my shoot.

Do not ask for it to be Photoshopped so that you are an embryo. If you are a chunky, beer-bellied daddy, then do not take yourself down to a thin man. When you hook up it will just be one big disappointment. Equally, make sure that you prepare yourself in conjunction with your age when you are getting ready for the shoot.

Do not spray tan because the look can often be uneven, but do make sure that you are groomed well. Do not have a drastic haircut unless you plan to keep the look.

Lets all have Pride in who we are.

He says that it is vital that you stand out and . So, my first attempt at dating starts with a shoot undertaken by Graham, who rather nervously laughed and said, “You’re practically a chicken compared to some I shoot,” which put me at ease.

Many men do the Full Monty, but that’s not me. We settled for a taste of sexy, though, to be honest, it is not a natural feel. Forty-five minutes later and the photo shoot is complete. I love the results and my friends all rave about the final images.

Pictures by Graham Martin, find him at https://www.grahammartinphotography.co.uk

Tales of a single middle aged gay man
Categories
People

Trolls,Trauma & Straight men

Steven Smith talks about trolls, the real affect they have on their victims and how trauma can affect us as LGBTQ people.
I started thinking about how, as a community, we could be kinder to each other. There are so many LGBT people (not all) that do not love themselves and that for sure can be unkind to other gay people.

You know what they say “what you don’t like in yourself” and all that. So why is this?  Maybe it’s something to do with how we are treated by the rest of the world. As Ru Paul says, ‘If you can’t love yourself, how the hell you gonna love somebody else?’

Why was I thinking about this? Well, my year started on a sour note. It was not because all my usual New Year’s chums had gone to more exciting destinations and the thought of spending a fortune in town did not appeal to me.

RuPaul Charles

No, in fact, I had come to terms that it was going to be just me on my own on the balcony at midnight, enjoying a glass of bubbly as the bells chimed. I actually enjoyed it.

The reason was, that I had broken my rule on the last day of the year by accepting a Facebook friendship request without first cross-checking who they knew.

He looked nice and was proud to be a ‘Nice… boy’, and as many of my friends had a similar religious background, I accepted in good faith.

Around 12.45am, once the calls had stopped coming in from family and friends, I received a panicked message on Messenger; ‘Look at your Facebook page’. To my horror, below my profile picture was a comment from the new Facebook friend stating, ‘You dirty f…. gay you make sick to my stomach, hope you die.’

Then, under all the comments from my well-wishers at New Year, he had posted more horrendous messages. Many of my friends had noticed and offered their sympathy and outrage. Oh, and this new Facebook friend had also “poked” me into the bargain.

Obviously, I got the vile post removed asap and blocked the offender. An hour later, determined not to be a victim, I decided to report him. The culprit profile was gone. My first thought was how sad he must be to have kicked off the New Year with an attack on another human being – it sure was not going to affect me. Who would go to such bother as to set up a fake profile in order to post abuse?

There was a passing moment where I thought that perhaps someone who I had fallen out with had done this.

You know what they say, ‘sticks and stones will break your bones, but names will never hurt me’. There has never been a stupider saying; a scar can heal, but often the abuse of name-calling will last forever – just ask all the many people living with mental health issues.

Many of my friends have been abused by trolls and, despite publicly handling it well, there’s often another story behind closed doors. Being so open about my life, it was bound to happen to me at some point. So, to bed I went, determined to have a great 2019.

Yet later that day, it hit me and brought back thoughts of past bullying which kind of reignited some of the trauma from my childhood that had been pushed to the back of my mind, so I perhaps was not as tough as I thought.

Let’s face it – we sometimes look in the mirror and the reflection of the child you once were looks back at you. Often scared, wondering how this man or woman’s body we inhabit came to be, since inside you still feel the same as you did at school, only this thing called maturity has aged us. But we shake ourselves down, notice the lines and the sagging, and then remember we have responsibilities as adults and quickly come back down to earth.

The truth is, we never go far from the playground in life. There are often bullies at work, clique groups that you do not fit into, the pressure to perform well, and let us not forget, to ‘FIT IN’. For many people, the trauma from childhood can echo into their adult years. Nowhere is this more truthful than in the gay community. For everyone who has a positive coming out story, there is an avalanche of horror stories of gay people feeling full of guilt and depression about their lives after being rejected by their families and friends.

As we grow older, most of us who are LGBTQ learn coping mechanisms to deal with trauma and negativity, to become what appears to be grounded and amazing adults. There are exceptions, but who actually made us feel good about our sexuality to begin with?

Last year on Dr Pam’s radio show, I said that it would be great to get education to a stage where parents of LGBTQ kids were more worried who their teenagers were dating – ‘Is it someone nice?’, ‘Are they getting home safely?’, and most importantly, ‘Are they happy?’ – rather than ‘Where did it all go wrong?’

This is one of the main reasons that I signed up to the charity Diversity Role Models, an exciting organisation which goes into schools to talk and educate about LGBTQ. I wanted to share the story of my childhood and life with kids.

For those that don’t have coping strategies the reality can be quite daunting, with gay and bisexual men being four times more likely to attempt suicide than heterosexual men. 

According to university research homophobia and negative views surrounding the lifestyles of gay and bisexual men is cited as one of the main contributing factors to the higher suicide attempt rate amongst the LGBTQIA+ community.

For young people, the gay scene can be far from a warm and safe environment to help with their self-esteem. Back in my day, the chicken hawks surrounded me, most with only one intention. I was a lucky one and some kind souls helped me. Plus, I quickly became streetwise after having learned to be self-sufficient at an early age.

Today the gay dating scene is moving more and more towards mobile apps. At a recent event to talk about chem-sex held by the dynamic Dave Stewart, the manager at the Dean Street Clinic, he explained that chem-sex is on the rise.

It was said that a young gay man arriving in London who subscribes to an app such as Grindr can expect that, by the third message he receives, there will be an invitation to a chem-sex party. Of course, these parties are also held in the heterosexual community, but they are having a more devastating effect on the gay community, with many deaths reported from these parties, not to mention rises in addiction, psychosis, and STDs.

Do gay men use drugs to cover up the guilt and shame that they are made to feel over their sexuality? Surely being in love and cherishing yourself and another person would be more empowering and self-gratifying?

Hello again!

I always believe that as long as it does not harm anyone or yourself, go for it. The rise of crystal meth and other so-called party drugs is not doing anyone any good. If you look across the pond to places like Fort Lauderdale in South Florida, the gay scene there has been ravaged by crystal meth – cases of meth addiction have doubled and deaths from the drug have risen by 80 per cent since 2014.

According to Dr David Fawcett, a Fort Lauderdale psychotherapist, most gay men using the drug did so in the hope of connecting better with other gay men, having been stigmatised and often shamed in their search for intimacy and safe relationships. Instead, they found the opposite from the drug. It is therefore far from a harmless pastime.

In 2019, let’s spend more time promoting loving yourself among the gay community.

From my years on the planet, I have found that some of the biggest homophobes can be gay men. It’s a fear of who they are, or who they really are. My experience is that men who are truly heterosexual have no problem with gay men; it’s the ones who have hidden away their true identity that have issues.

How many times have I wanted to scream when a gay man tells me “I only sleep with straight men”. Not only should they have a label attached to them, reading ‘DOES NOT PLAY WELL WITH OTHER GAY PEOPLE’, but they should also wear a T-shirt saying ‘DELUDED’.

Having eclectic friends, I tend not to go around with just groups of gay men. However, a few years ago while sitting in Soho House with five gay men, one boasted that he had sex with a straight Algerian taxi driver.

Another spoke about how he nearly got the boy in his theatre show, who is straight, into bed. I stood up and told them ‘If their cock is half way down your throat, they are not straight,’ and then left.

Yes, there are plenty of straight men that I fancy, Colin Farrell and Tom Hardy to name two, but I keep it real and have never entered a friendship with a straight man hoping to get his trousers off. I have more dignity than that. Keep it as fantasy in your head, like being Superman (or Supergirl, writes our editor).

Equally I have been in friendships with men who identify as straight that I thought saw me as just a guy and my sexuality did not matter but, on occasion, have been let down.

One friend messaged me to say they had booked a room for us at a hotel at an event we were attending adding “Mind you…separate beds”. First, I had never once showed interest in him sexually…nor would I. Luckily maturity made me brush it off though I did think “Fucking hell…as if!” But it all adds up to being made feel less about yourself.

Let’s not even talk about the line some gay men use – ‘straight looking’ – which points to a dislike of yourself as gay man.

Back in the early 80s, I was on Christopher Street in New York walking down to the Monster Bar. A gay pal gave me some advice; “You get in trouble, see those drag queens over there, scream “help” they will come running. Don’t bother with the clones and muscle Marys – they will go screaming back into the bar.”

Luckily for me the situation never arrived, but it just goes to show that the drag queens had to be more streetwise to be themselves and suffered more often in life, so for them, it was sink or swim, and those broads were as hard as nails, and as kind as could be too.

So, let’s just start by being kind and looking out for one another. Of course, just as in any community, we can’t all be best pals, but we can try and make a difference by being happy to be our true selves. Have a great 2019!

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Categories
Columns

The Real Will &Grace

Welcome to more of Steven Smith’s Tales of a Middle-Aged Single Gay Man column
‘Fag hag’ is a gay slang phrase referring to women who associate exclusively with gay or bisexual men. But you knew that anyway, didn’t you?
Steven Smith

Now, I hate labels of any kind, but when a woman tells me “I love the gays” my toes curl. Even my nephew, when he was thirteen, was smart enough to not fall for that one.

“They are just like everyone else, good and bad”, he shrewdly pointed out. It’s funny in Ab Fab when Adina blurts out “all my friends are gay”. Oh, the irony.

However, the women that happily label themselves fag hags tend to flag up serious warning signs. I have heard it so many times: “other woman just don’t get me, but you and the gay guys do.”

This is usually followed by how she likes bad boys in bed. That’s nice for them. For me, I want to be liked as a person, not for my sexuality or a label.

Since my first time at a gay club in New York, the Limelight, I was aware of lots of very sexy women model types dancing. My friend told me: “they feel safe here. They can dance and not get hit on.”

It was not long before the straight men caught onto this and started frequenting the more glamorous gay venues. On one occasion, I was with a group of guys when a very hot girl walked straight up to us and said “so sad you are all gay. I would f*** the lot of you!”

A little voice piped up: “I am straight”. He was my pal who honestly leads the way in gay fashion but is 100% straight, though many men have tried their luck and a minute later found themselves in a taxi home.

Elizabeth Taylor. Wowza.

Elizabeth Taylor loved the company of gay men, from Rock Hudson to Tab Hunter and Montgomery Clift. She described them as her confidants.

Tallulah Bankhead, when she was not famously trying to sleep with gay men, preferred their company. Long ago, in the time of Mary Queen of Scots, Mary loved to quote the pretty men.

For me, I like people. It seems though by chance that many of my friends are female and quite glamorous and powerful. None of them would be described as fag hags.

In their company I still keep to the traditional male role that I am comfortable with: opening doors, walking on the right side of the path near the road, and even pulling the chair out. Though some of the women I know try to lead when dancing and even pull the chair out for me.

Now, despite having some pictures taken to join a dating website, somehow I am no further along, and the woman who I would call one of my rocks, Liz Branson, is on the phone from her New York office. She splits her time between there, Dubai and London.

“Have you done it?” she enquires. Trying to get off the subject, I ask when she is in London next. There is a pause:

“You haven’t“, she snaps with an air of annoyance. Then she almost commands “Jo Allen’s, Tuesday 9.30”. She does not wait to see if I am free and hangs up. But then texts ten minutes later (“If you are free can you book it?”).

Liz is great fun, but always right about everything and obsessive, sometimes to a point where you want to scream. That’s what makes her so successful, alluringly and fascinating.

She is also always late, arriving with some story, but the reality is it takes her half an hour to cover herself in body oil that makes her beautiful worked-out body glisten. That’s just the part of the beauty regime to go out.

So, despite having brass balls when it comes to business and breaking many high-level men, she still likes to be every part a high-maintenance woman.

Still from the Will & Grace show

She is my Grace, as in Will and Grace, the TV show. Now, it is a common mistake to presume that women “get” gay men just because they hang out with them. Even the woman who proclaims: “I am just a gay man trapped in woman’s body” can be shockingly naive.

One long-term friend of 36 who grew up around the LGBTQ community, recently pointed out on a theatre visit that the show we’d gone to see was a great one for me just because it had five youthful boys, scantily dressed, in the cast.

It did take me back. As pretty as they were they left me sexually cold. She must have noticed none of my boyfriends have been under 40.

My best gay mate would know that the male cast of Peaky Blinders or Colin Farrell would have me hot in my seat. But teen boys have as much effect as Dita Von Teese dancing – nice to watch. She was the same friend who once asked, “Why would you want to give head rather than take?”

This is the case with Liz, apart from one man who was straight when he lived with her and came out later, she really did not know any gay men until me.

I think she presumed we all came in a mould, as she was quick to dash into another relationship with a gay man who was in a rush to take her to gay bars and so on.

My opinion is it should be mutual, and I am happy in a predominately straight bar/club, but as it’s rare I am in a gay bar I tend to have dinner or go to events.

Liz rang me one night: “I am on Clapham Common”, she whispered down the phone. Enquiring if there was concert or some event, to my horror she replied, “no, I’m cruising with… Have you done this?” Really, I wanted to scream – this was a step too far. Needless to say, their relationship did not last when he tried to seduce Liz’s then-husband.

But it was not the first time that I heard of women going cruising with gay men. My former lady boss was once in a Freedom cab (a gay taxi company) when the driver said he was going to Hampstead Heath to drop condoms off by a tree in the cruising area.

She jumped: ‘Oh, I have been there.” Some of her gay pals had taken her. This phenomenon had passed me by. One, I don’t cruise – it’s scary, and broadminded as I am, why would you take a woman?

Well, Liz is late as usual. She has texted several times, blaming the Uber driver, a lion escaping from Regents Park zoo, and a fire at the local orphanage.

But when she arrives she’s looking spectacular, and the whole restaurant turn their heads to look at her. Liz runs her hands through her thick red hair, passes, and waves enthusiastically.

She has just become a vegan, and was difficult enough in restaurants before, but this is taking it to a whole new level. Once, after sending an omelette back four times, famously I took a picture of her perfect omelette and gave it to the waiter the next day, much to her annoyance. It’s just one of the things that make her amusing.

But back to the evening. Only one waiter and chef have resigned since Liz has placed her order – kidding. My suggestion that I nip to Tesco’s and get the soya sauce she wants so badly goes down like a lead balloon as she has everyone fussing over her.

There is quick chat about the gorgeous executive she went skinny dipping with in Dubai and how fantastic he was in bed. Do I think 15 years age difference is too much?

Followed by she really is still into 50 shades of Darryl, a man she met at a conference and had the best sex ever with, but had turned out to be an asshole and who I hate hearing about for the 90th time.

The nice thing about Liz is she is not an energy vampire and likes to hear about you. But it’s the subject that’s not top of my list – my ‘love life’.

She is convinced that my best pal and I should be together and that why I am not with anyone? The problem many people don’t get is you can have a purely platonic relationship when you’re gay with another gay man.

Of course, I love my best mate, but have no plans to marry him. Losing track of how many times that I have told her ‘NO!!’, I tell Liz that’s it, I’ll ask him to marry me next week.

There is a scream and she wants to order champagne. Liz’s face quickly drops when it’s pointed out it’s a tease. Well, I am sure it would have if she hadn’t had Botox two weeks before.

The subject is dropped, and we have lots of laughs and drinks, until she announces we are going to Old Compton Street for after-drinks. “Why?” I ask. Apparently, she loves GAY and the music.

But my gut feeling is that she is very kindly obsessing about finding me a fella. My suggestion of our usual after-venue, Radio Bar, is met with a blank. Realising that she is doing something Liz thinks will be good for me, we take off.

There is no queue to get into GAY, but it is busy, and Liz wastes no time in turning into Cilla Black after getting a drink, and my heart falls as she starts randomly talking to men; all of course adore her right away. “Who do you like?” she shouts above the music.

Liz introducing me to random men to reject me leaves me feeling like a rabbit in the headlights. “I’ll be discreet”, she bellows.“I’m all good, thanks” and hug her.

Liz starts dancing with some colourful drag queens and shouts “I’m a gay icon!” Of course they all agree. Much as there is room for interpretation, Madonna or Judy she isn’t, but for that night she was. It was so kind of her to care.

Flushed with her success at GAY, she wants to explore more, so we head to a bar on Rupert Street, as a friend of mine is there anyway. Her one-woman show goes down well there, too.

I have already briefed her that my American pal is a friend, and not to think about bringing up whether we are dating or anything of that nature. She thinks he’s too young anyway, so I am off the hook.

Liz is now befriending the handsome doorman, who turns out to be heterosexual and married. He waves me over. “Why don’t you take your girlfriend somewhere she can meet a man?” My reaction was to smile. “She wanted to come here, not me.”

Besides, who says she would not meet a fella there? My sister had a holiday romance in Key West with a man who managed a gay club, and one lady friend married a bar man who worked in one.

Liz and I are still happily single, but watch this page for more tales.

Steven is a published author, regular radio guest and has a monthly column in MilliOnAirMagazine. 

http://moa-global.com