Tuesday, (11/26) my youngest daughter and I screened "Gladiator II" at our local cinema. Interestingly enough, "Gladiator I" was released in 2000 when I was 28 years old. Back then, I was absolutely captivated by masculinity. To the point that seeing a film that so celebrated it (as "Gladiator I" did) would have only sent me deeper into private despairing. For masculinity (as I perceived it) had enough gravitational pull to consistently hijack my thoughts, causing me to ruminate / obsess in such a way that could easily be described as cerebral / emotional bondage. As such, particular as a newlywed, I felt the only means of escape was to avoid entertainment firstly that celebrated it (as "Gladiator I" so successfully / ostentatiously did).
To summarize, the BIG, seemingly unsolvable problem I faced in 2000 was LACK OF TRUST in the masculine, and all of that pointed primarily back to my laughably insecure, longstanding kinship with my father.
Now, hear me here. I didn't type FEAR. No. There was no FEAR of the masculine as if it was going to harm / ridicule me. Instead, it was a distinct LACK OF TRUST. Obviously, there's a monumental difference between LACK OF TRUST and FEAR. The former leaves you ISOLATED (left to fend for oneself singularly) as a man whereas the latter incites a myriad of reactionary negative emotions (dread, torment, fatalism) that are directly tied to the "what if?".
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Now, let's focus on ISOLATION as a result of my LACK OF TRUST and how these two things perpetuated my same-sex attraction.
Firstly though, I have never felt as if I should be female. Being male was who I felt securely established to be and, as a result, 100% at peace with. It was my perception of masculinity (based on my life's narrative) that I failed to comfortably embrace / lean into. Considering that statement, let me reiterate that I also didn't feel feminine, nor did I wish to be feminine, though I did have a healthy trust in the feminine. Therefore, I absolutely was settled into my understanding of the masculine, yet my hurdle therein was managing the LACK OF TRUST in the concept itself as well as the relinquishing of / backing away from the perceived SAFETY I'd achieved via my longstanding (coping mechanism) ISOLATION.
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The second Samson weekend intensive I attended was during the spring of 2016. Our group of +/-20 Jackson Metro Samson guys traveled to beautiful Highlands, NC, staying in a multi-million-dollar vacation property (nestled inside an exclusive golf course development) owned by one of my fellow perverts' parents.
During our off ramping from a full day of whitewater rafting, every last one of us made a beeline to the men's changing room / bathroom. For it had been a chilly day to be on the river, therefore wetsuits were required. Once I made my way inside, our fearless leader (meeting facilitator) announced the presence of a same-sex attracted man (Rob) within their hetero-majority. I remember everyone silently agreeing with me that what had been decreed was very unnecessary / over the top, and as such, it made me realize just how protected (& loved) I truly was within that Motley Crue (it's important to note that our facilitator was known for insensitive remarks).
To take that a step further, this was the first time I'd experienced being silently buttressed and therefore affirmed via other men. Straight men. Masculine men. All of which were crammed, as I was, within a too small changing / shower room after a fun-filled day in beautiful Appalachia (think Mirror Universe Deliverance).
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During that same intensive weekend, I had the good fortune of rooming with Silas 1.0. The space we bunked within was a sizable "bonus room" (situated above the carport) within this multi-story vacation home. As such, since it was stationed somewhat by itself, there was a sense of privacy / secrecy that few, if any, of our Samson bunkmates experienced. Specifically, Silas 1.0 slept on a sleeper sofa while I slept on an air mattress. Though we only spent time alone together within that space to mostly sleep, it still delivered a deep sense of exclusivity within me. For Silas 1.0 knew my issues with same-sex attraction. He also knew (& had heard ad nauseum) of my termination from DSU three years prior (& therefore was privy to my pain). At the time, the level of interest this man exhibited in spending time with me was almost too much for me to believe. And though this intense platonic attraction naturally waned over time, this sweet season served me well in regard to me choosing to make a conscious effort to TRUST the masculine as I'd never done prior.
This Samson friendship was one of the firsts that truly gave me credence to begin to TRUST the masculine.
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As an aside, masculinity for me is most effectively presented by men who are also blessed with a baritone speaking voice. "Gladiator I" served to rocket Mr. Russell Crowe to instant stardom. In many ways, as the heir apparent of the then well-established Aussie crown (from the original baritone, Mr. Mel Gibson).
Crowe's voice is deeply masculine, sounding absolutely delicious whilst recorded.
"Gladiator II"'s protagonist is played by Irish actor, Mr. Paul Mescal. Arguably, his voice is as deep as Mr. Mel Gibson's has ever been, making it equally delicious to listen to.
Why is this important to identify?
Baritone voices are intimidating. They're more animalistic. Threatening. And this is mostly due to how they carry combined with how powerfully distinct they are.
I have an uncle whose voice is beautifully baritone. As a relative, he's unpredictable and threatening (he's a drug addict, thief and compulsive liar). Yet, even today at the age of almost 75, his presence / the thought of his presence is just as intimidating as ever. Of all the men I've personally known throughout my life, he represents a masculinity that's the absolute most threatening.
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As our "early arrival '24 Samson Summit entourage" was finishing up our "meet & eat" late lunch at some nondescript Fayetteville, NC BBQ joint a few weeks back, I was singled out by one of the most resolutely masculine men I know in Samson Society. As such, he asked me specifically to ride with him (within his newly purchased X3) out to Camp Dixie. We chatted throughout our 20-minute journey as the cloudy, rainy setting whizzed by. He'd been en route from middle TN for well over six hours (earlier that day), having endured no less precipitation throughout. Hence, the gloriously anticipated drive had left him with a lot to be desired.
Therefore, again, he asked me to join him for the last, very short leg of his trip. Me?!?
This man is a few years older than I am, and as such, is 100% at peace with himself. I know segments of his story, but like myself, he's reached a point where it's the present and future that he's most interested in focusing on.
Initially, when I first met this man (2017), I feared him. Not anymore. Especially after his personal invitation to transport me to Camp Dixie. What a blessing that was. It served as the cake beneath the icing.
I came away feeling absolutely his equal. And that, my friend, I never, ever saw coming.
