The Velvet Rage (14 page)

The great danger inherent in stage three is that the gay man will foreclose on ambiguity. Rather than allow this lack of clarity to resolve itself naturally, like the settling white flakes in a child's snow globe when it has been put down, he attempts to create artificial clarity and too quickly defines an endpoint to his journey. Or he turns back into the ways of earlier stages, being unwilling to tolerate the ambiguity of the present.

Foreclosure doesn't have to be permanent. Often, it is simply a delay in emotional development simply because it doesn't work. Foreclosure may help alleviate the stress of the moment, but often does not have the power to sustain. The crisis comes roaring back into awareness, and once again, he faces the opportunity to resolve it or choose another form of foreclosure.

Foreclosure, as it can in each of the crises, happens in many different ways. I met Jay five years ago at a dinner party of a mutual friend. Jay was an attractive man, I'd say around forty-two years of age, with dark black hair and a well-trimmed goatee that highlighted his prominent cheekbones beautifully. As I talked to Jay, I learned the fascinating story of his attempt to foreclose on ambiguity. Some years earlier he had ended a decade-long relationship in New York City and moved to Santa Fe. He described it as a period of “purging his soul” and letting go of the mistakes of his past.

Jay spent several years meandering around Santa Fe, working various jobs, and deliberately forming friendships with people he'd never have even noticed before. After a few years of this, he became interested in a well-known spiritual retreat center about a hundred miles away from Santa Fe. As his interest grew, he began to see a way out of his ambiguous dilemma. In short, he thought he had found the ultimate answer that would finally give
his life real meaning and purpose. Jay sold everything, including a houseful of beautiful and rare furniture, gave all of his money to the retreat center, and committed to joining the monastery that was associated with the retreat center.

After several years of living as a monk, the day-to-day squabbles among the monks and the business of running a retreat center made him begin to feel increasingly disillusioned with his choice to become a monk. Jay began to wonder if he had been too quick in his decision to join the monastery. It was feeling as if he simply joined a corporation whose only product was spiritual enlightenment—for a price. Two and a half years after joining the monastery and stripping himself of all worldly possessions, he left the monastery penniless, confused, and once again facing the ambiguity from which he had sought to escape by joining the monastery.

Jay's story fascinated me. As I have reflected on that conversation over the years, it became clear to me that Jay's struggle was not unlike the struggles of so many gay men in stage three. He had foreclosed on the ambiguity that he found distressing and escaped into a spiritual practice that he thought would take away the confusion and give him a sense of identity. Fortunately for Jay, he was able to recognize that he had foreclosed, and as painful as it was, he returned to grapple with the true demands of authenticity in stage three. He returned to the mainstream, eventually starting a new relationship and successful career as a ceramic artist.

The way in which Jay foreclosed on stage three was quite dramatic, even for most gay men. However, I see the experience repeated in many different ways by gay men who are desperate to escape the ambiguity of stage three. Take Ben, for example.

Ben was a gay man in his late thirties who had built a very successful publishing business with his partner. While he and his partner had not been lovers for several years, they kept the business together and continued to run it. As you might imagine, running a business with an ex-lover is difficult under the best of circumstances, and it had become something of a nightmare for Ben. One day he invited his partner to a lunch meeting with his attorney and announced that he wanted to be bought out of the business. After almost two years of arguing back and forth, the two reached a settlement price and his former lover bought Ben's share of the company.

With a nice chunk of change and no immediate career goals, Ben spent a year and a half traveling the world to “find himself.” He visited all the must-see exotic locations and many an out-of-the-way village that somehow caught his interest. On one such trip, Ben was flying back to Santa Fe and had to change planes in Los Angeles. His flight was delayed and soon after cancelled, so Ben decided to spend a few days roaming around Los Angeles and West Hollywood. On his night stroll down Santa Monica Avenue, he caught the eye of a young man who appeared to be barely twenty years old. He and Ben struck up a conversation and within a few hours were back in Ben's hotel room for the night. The next days were filled with a fast-paced romance that ended with Ben inviting the young man to pack his bags and return to live with him in Santa Fe.

Ben was delighted to have found a new focus in his life and the two of them went about the task of setting up a household together. After six months or so, Ben's new love began complaining about how “quiet” and “small town” Santa Fe felt (it is, without a doubt, a small town in many ways). He started frequenting
the clubs with Ben in nearby Albuquerque. In the year that followed, Ben and his lover went to Albuquerque almost every weekend, drinking heavily and doing surprising amounts of cocaine and ecstasy. The two of them began picking up other twenty-something men for three-way sex. Ben wasn't all that wild about it, but I think he felt he had to go along with it to keep his lover happy. Ben and his lover had met a handsome young man one night and the three of them began spending a great deal of time together. Over a period of about a month, Ben's lover became smitten by their new playmate, and he pushed Ben to agree to allow the young man to live with them. Over the next few months, Ben began sensing that his lover was more interested in the young man than he was in him. Sure enough, one night at dinner the two of them announced that they were moving out of Ben's house and moving in together, just the two of them.

Of course, Ben was devastated. All the wagging tongues around Santa Fe cynically whispered over glasses of fine scotch and white linen tablecloths, “What did he expect? The guy was half his age.” And, “Ben was a fool if he really thought he would stick around.” Ben was broken-hearted and confused. He thought he had found the answer to his ambiguity in a sex- and party-filled relationship. Now he was alone and dazed.

Foreclosure in stage three can happen in many different ways. Suddenly taking on a new spiritual path, abruptly changing careers or lovers, and moving to a very different kind of city are just a few of the more common ways. Any way in which you can imagine giving your life a sudden and radical “make over” is a way to foreclose from finding happiness and focus from within.

Foreclosure is not an inevitable part of stage three. Rather, it is a common way of escaping and subsequently prolonging stage three. Some gay men struggle with the ambiguity until it slowly and naturally resolves itself. They wait it out until clarity is theirs and then move forward.

The difference between foreclosure and resolution is distinct. A gay man who forecloses makes an abrupt U-turn in some significant part of his life. He jumps tracks suddenly, expecting that he has “shifted” himself out of the ambiguity into clarity. He has finally found the silver bullet that will slay his demons.

Resolution, on the other hand, comes slowly and is measured. It is a gradual, organic change that seems to flow naturally in life. It needs no sudden jolt or miraculous event. It is a beautiful fractal that emerges out of the chaotic background, slowly revealing itself in the foreground of life.

Resolution is always possible, even when we may have foreclosed earlier. Sometimes we may foreclose on a crisis many times before we are ready to seek resolution. Resolution requires that we tolerate the distress of the crisis long enough to resolve it rather than escape it.

The underlying psychological conflict that is resolved in stage three is the complete acceptance of the self and elimination of toxic shame. Resolution is the manifestation of a gay man who is no longer holding the core belief that he is flawed and unacceptable, and consequently spending most of his energy managing, silencing, and avoiding shame. Instead, he has come to a place of accepting himself as a man who has the potential for both good and evil. He no longer pushes away various parts of himself or hides his shortcomings among many lovers or within the sanctuary of his flawlessly designed home. He embraces it with hard-won acceptance. Here, toxic shame cannot exist.

Because stage three is a place beyond toxic shame, it is also a place of deconstructing and reconstructing the gay man's life. Not with dramatic upheaval as in the jerky moves of foreclosure, but in slow, mindful, and naturally evolving ways. Primarily, this change centers around the parts of his life that were based on shame. Relationships, sexual practices, material appetites, friends, and lifestyle were built during the first two stages as a means to deal with toxic shame. Now those choices no longer seem useful.

Chase had been a moderately successful advertising copy editor back in New York. Now living in a small but sufficient one-bedroom cottage in Key West, he felt he was content. For many years, Key West had been a haven of rest for Chase. The place where he would go to escape the supercharged energy of his New York existence. He had bought the cottage during a few very good years when his bonuses had allowed him to acquire the place with a single signature on a check.

Chase had always loved to cook. Back in New York, he was known for throwing fabulous dinners where, on a good night, one might meet the latest supermodel or artist from Chelsea. Chase loved nothing more than spending all day Saturday shopping and preparing for an extravagant feast to be served later that evening to an equally extravagant gathering of guests.

As Chase turned fifty, he began wonder if there wasn't something more to life than what he'd had. Sure, he'd had some great times along the way, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something fundamental was missing from his life. He'd reached a point in his career where he was making a very good living, but it brought him little satisfaction. He still loved cooking, but the joy of entertaining he once felt was fading away. The thought of sitting around another table while the guests each took turns
extolling the latest indulgence they had experienced now bored him beyond description.

Eventually, the time came when the company for whom he worked offered early retirement as a means of cutting costs. Chase thought about it carefully, and eventually took the offer and retired. He sold the New York apartment and headed south to live in his little place in Key West.

Once settled in Key West, he floundered a bit, not sure of what he wanted to do with himself. There were several business opportunities and a few short-lived relationships, but he was far too distracted to commit to anything at the time.

One fall day, he happened to ride his bike past the window of a small local diner that said “for sale.” After some thought and a few sleepless nights, he decided to buy the place with the sum he had received for early retirement. It was risky, but it felt like something he really wanted to try.

Years have gone by and he now owns a successful small bistro tucked away on a side street in Key West. It isn't fabulous, has one waiter, and is open only for dinner. His clientele isn't rich or famous, but they are faithful and many have become good friends. More to the point, Chase is finally content.

That's what stage three is all about. Maybe being an ordinary chef in an unremarkable restaurant is really what you want. Or perhaps it is to own a small boat and make a simple living taking tourists out for a snorkel, like Chase's friend Captain Tom does. The point is, stage three is all about letting go of fabulous and being yourself, however glamorous—or not—that is.

Stage three is all about finally achieving authentic validation—the only kind that really satisfies. By showing yourself—your complete self—to the world around you, the world can respond
with validation of what is real about you. It doesn't always do so, but when it does, the validation satisfies that deep longing within.

Rage, the emotional product of being unable to achieve authentic validation, begins to dissipate as does all of its disguised expressions. As the authenticity surges, the rage recedes, allowing you to reclaim your life. No longer is your life determined by the fallout of shame and rage. Finally, the freedom to know contentment has arrived.

I
'd been seeing John in therapy for several months. Today, he came into the office with dark circles around his eyes and looking like he'd slept in his clothes.

“Tom left me last night,” he mumbled as he slumped into the chair. “Two years, and it's all down the tubes. What is it about me that I can't have a relationship longer than two years?”

John was a successful software engineer who was smart and attractive, but had spent most of his adult years bouncing from relationship to relationship. Now he was thirty-seven and becoming increasingly cynical about relationships. This last relationship with Tom had once again raised his hopes of finding a lifelong lover, only to dash them again as the relationship slowly fizzled. Toward the end, it was clear that Tom's eye had been caught by several other prospects. John did everything he knew to do, but it wasn't enough. Tom eventually left him and moved in with a new boyfriend.

John's life had been like so many of ours. He grew up in a middle-class family with a loving, nurturing mother and a kind but
distant father. He knew his father loved him, but they hadn't been close since John's teenage years. When John came out to his parents, they were upset but seemed to get through it fairly well, although they didn't ask about the details of John's life. He introduced his parents to his first live-in lover, but after that relationship fell apart, he avoided telling them much about whom he was seeing. It just made him feel like a double failure: first, he turned out to be gay; and second, he couldn't keep a long-term relationship.