The End of Singledom?

Love is an autocrat and won't be disobeyed.

Sometimes we almost manage to convince ourselves of that.

In Defence of Adultery by Julia Copus

This week I took the decision to accept that I, at 23, am unable to find people to date on my own. Its not something that took a lot of accepting; having a dating history that can be summed up as sporadic, uninspiring and limited should probably have told me that before. But I've muddled through quite unconvincingly until now, using a whole host of excuses to bat away the questions of 'why are you single?' - excuses such as 'I just don't meet gay men' or 'I have no time', or even 'I'm quite happy being single'. 

Happy being single?! No-one is happy being single, especially someone like me who thrives off and needs the company of others. Yes, I could pretend, but it was my insecurities getting in the way - stopping me from joining LGBT groups, going to gay bars or flirting with guys I'd meet. However, now, with friends paring off in front of me, and my life moving in a direction that would welcome someone to share it with, I'm starting to realise that I need to get dating. I'm more confident and happier to talk and flirt, and I'm even starting to look good (I think...)

The problem though is thus. I'm still not involved in LGBT groups, I still don't go to gay clubs/bars (although I'm not exactly going to find Mr Right there), I don't particularly look or act 'gay' and, contrary to popular belief, my Gaydar is shockingly bad. Like - atrocious. I mean, I can pick up on an obvious look but, give me a line up of men and tell me to pick the gays and, unless you've got a raving Queen there, I will fail in a lot of cases. I don't know if this is the same for many gay men, and maybe we all lie a little about how good we are at picking out others, but good lord its landed me in trouble a few times. I easily slip past most guy's and I don't think its that hard to pick up on. So my abilities and chances to meet someone I like are seriously limited unless I'm introduced by friends - which, unfortunately, doesn't seem to happen regularly.

Because of this sorry state of affairs, I have taken the drastic step of setting myself up a profile on a popular dating website. (I'm not going to tell you which in case you stumble across me and read the ridiculous exaggerations - I can be described as toned and athletic right?!). I'm even going to pay for it - a monetary investment seems worthwhile if it means I can actually start meeting some guys. I know its fine and normal these days, but I still feel a little embarrassed about having to do it, and I think writing this post is my guilty admission. I'm not sure how its going to work out or whether I'll even get any messages - but I'm willing to give it a try and see what happens. I've heard so many stories of people meeting their future husband on their first encounter that I've got to give it at least a little try, right?!

So wish me luck in this cyber dating world. I'll keep you updated. Let's just hope that my first message isn't from this guy:

Dave, 67, looking for a 20 - 24 year old for fun, friendship and filthy times. 

Shudder.

An Ode to A City

I walk thro' each charter'd street,

Near where the charter'd Thames does flow.

London by William Blake

This morning someone smiled at me on the train. Genuinely, looked me full in the face and smiled. The woman (it had to be a woman - couldn't be a tall, dark, handsome man) just got on the train, brazenly took the seat opposite me and as I, the gentleman that I am, moved my feet to allow her room to put her legs she looked at me and smiled. SMILED. Does she not know this is London? We do not smile at each other on trains. We sit (or more likely stand), headphones tight on our ears, listening to music in order to block out the sounds of others, staring out of the window at the grey world moving past wishing we were anywhere but there. And resolutely NOT smiling. I was in such a state of shock that I forced out a half smile/half grimace, probably terrifying the lovely woman, and got back to my book. It set me all a-fluster for the rest of the journey. Perhaps it was the sunshine that got to her head. Perhaps she'd had a really good night's sleep. Or perhaps, she was just plain human, craving some social contact on a journey that can regularly make you feel isolated and insular. Maybe, like me, she was just enjoying the view of the city bathed in sunshine.

I love London. And I'm not ashamed to admit that (although you'll never see me in one of those awful T-Shirts). I thought I'd always say no to a city; loving the great outdoors as I do, I couldn't imagine being in an urban sprawl every day. But, I've spent the past couple of months gradually spending more and more of my time in the city, exploring new haunts, meeting new people and learning to love its architecture, culture and people. I've seen the sun rise from a bridge over the Thames, I've had an amazing breakfast at 5am, I've explored painted halls in Greenwich and I've sampled some pretty awesome theatre at The National. In a city where we live and work on top of each other, I've been able to find not only constant company and stimulation, but peace and solitude as well. 

This is one of those things that just makes me adore London even more, a city which I don't yet live in, but I already think of as my home. I spend far more of my waking hours there than the sleepy village of Higham in which I officially reside, and I hope to be moving to our beloved capital very soon. I need to. I love my parents dearly, and thank them so much for allowing me to live in their home for the past two years - for virtually nothing, considering all the food I eat and the mess I make. But I'm not a country boy any more, and they know as well as I do that living at home at 23 is not something I wanted to do. I need the city, I need people, I need the possibility of going out on a whim and not having to think about getting the last train home. I need a place where, as happened today, a friend can give me a call to say he's around and, within five minutes, we can go for a coffee and properly brighten up my day (thanks Ben, that was ace). Not somewhere where I have to make plans way in advance because I need to arrange to have the car, or a lift from the Mum&Dad Taxi Co. I need a place where, if I want to, I can invite people I meet home. A place where I can find somewhere open for a drink past 11. A place where something is always happening; but where if I go for a walk on my own I don't have to explain why.

And so, I refer you to my previous posting 'Yes is a Little Word...' I don't know what I'll be doing come September, whether I'll be making money or whether I'll be doing any more acting. But one thing is for sure, as soon as I possibly can, I will be saying Yes to the chance to live in the city. It may be terrible for my bank balance, but it will be perfect for my sanity, my friendships and (possibly) my love life. And when I finally do move, expect one hell of a house party. Maybe I'll invite the lady who smiled at me on the train this morning.

Yes is a Little Word...

Open your eyes,

Dream but don't guess.

Your biggest surprise

Comes after Yes.

Yes by Muriel Rukeyser 

I sit here at my desk, with candles burning and Fun. 'Some Nights' blaring from my speakers (the gay man in me is seeming to come out more regularly these days). I want to start a blog. I don't really know why, just some little voice in my head has been bugging me for weeks to do it. You know the voice, that tinny little thing that you really try to ignore most of the time for its inane ideas. Well it persisted and, unfortunately for you, I have given in. Writing this is probably the culmination of my obsession with social media (a self-confessed Facebook and Twitter addict), and my constant desire to share how I feel with people. But after six months of giving in to that voice, and the incredible things it has delivered to me, I'm hoping this will be another example of where it was right to do so. 

This is the first moment of reflection I have had after the end of perhaps the greatest example of where giving in and saying yes is exactly the right thing to do. I spent around eight weeks working on the truly awe-inspiring Epidemic - a community musical performed and backstaged (yes, i even make up words) by a team of dedicated volunteers. To call it the best experience of my life may sound dramatic (I'm nothing if not that), but ask any of those involved in the show and you would probably get the same response. I learnt so much from each and every member of the company - from the little things (like the fact that putting cookies in milk and microwaving them is absolutely the best snack ever) - to the massive (that depression is something to be talked about, not ignored). And I will never forget the feeling of being on stage with people that I love - I tend to bandy this word around a lot, but I mean it, I love every one of them in their own way - and having an audience react with such positivity, passion and enthusiasm. And to think, I very nearly turned it down.

Yes. You read correctly. I nearly said no to the opportunity to work with Old Vic New Voices in a thrilling, emotional, wonderful musical about issues that matter, in an incredible venue (The Old Vic Tunnels) with passionate, dedicated and seriously talented people. I don't know what came over me for the few weeks of indecision; fear of getting it wrong? Confidence failure? Divided loyalties? Whatever it was I am so very thankful that I listened to that tinny voice in my ear that told me to go for it. The experiences, friends, perspectives (even romantic attachments) that I gained from doing this show will stay with me for a very long time - if not forever. Plus, I'll get to keep that microphone - could it be the best prop I've ever used? Quite likely. 

Epidemic was the culmination of an intense, temperamental, emotional whirlwind of six months that have changed me pretty spectacularly - all because I began to listen to that tinny voice and say yes. OK, I sound like some new aged hippy there. But bare with me. (And I promise the next post will have more wit in it). 

• I said yes to losing weight (two stone since Christmas), which has started to reduce my massive hangups about my body. 
• I said yes to getting my confidence in me back. Those who meet me will probably never imagine I could suffer from a lack of confidence - but genuinely, I began this year feeling pretty terrible about myself.
• I said yes to writing. I have a novel on the go, I've written lots of poems and a couple of short stories. There is nothing more cathartic for me than to write, but I was always stopped by a feeling of 'what if I'm rubbish?'
• I said yes to dating, meeting men, having a bit of fun and showing more interest in the gay community. My stock response to why I didn't go to gay clubs, or date more was 'I don't like gay men'. A pathetic attempt to hide my serious insecurities. Thank goodness I'm moving past that!
• I said yes to new friendships. I've garnered a whole bundle of new wonderful people in my life. One has perhaps had the best influence on me, challenging me to be better; to say yes. (They shall remain nameless, for fear of inflating their already wonderfully large ego - but I love them dearly). Suffice it to say, I love them all.
• I said yes to my career. I think I've finally found a direction for my future career (well two possible directions, but hey, that's pretty impressive for me). And I'm not going to just sit around and wait for things to come to me. I have some exciting ideas and plans which will come to fruition (stay tuned, I'll probably blog about them).

So, if you haven't guessed it already, what I'm trying to say is this. Say Yes. Don't let your insecurities, hang ups, fears, parents get in the way. I have done and the change has been miraculous. Even when things have come and knocked me down (men, money, work) the positive attitude that saying yes has given me has meant I've used them as a catalyst to make things better and to go on and do something new. I haven't even had such bad PSD (Post-Show Depression) this time around because I know that Epidemic is such an incredibly positive and powerful thing. I miss everyone massively but I know full well that we are a family that will remain together for a long time.

Too much time is spent in this country saying no, being cynical, criticising. I'm not saying this is the miracle cure, and there are going to be times when I feel awful, just want to rant at the world and be miserable. But positivity is key. So do it. Next time that tinny voices tells you to go for it, listen; it may just be the most wonderful thing you've ever done.

*Disclaimer - Some caution is necessary, saying yes to everything could land you in a whole pile of trouble*