I Don’t Look Very Gay

 Earlier this week, I found myself involved in a discussion about diversity. After one person noted a lack of diversity at our table, I jokingly volunteered myself as the token gay.

A woman at the table burst out laughing. "If you're our token gay, we'll have to put you in a pink tutu or something."

I blinked. "I'm not sure what that means."

She glanced around the table, as though seeking affirmation from the others. "Well, Mark, you just don't look very gay."

Since then, I've been wondering: "What about me doesn't look gay enough?" Should I be thinner? Should I highlight my hair? Should I priss or lisp? Should I wear a frilly collar and a velvet coat?

The comment implies there's a certain way gay people look — a common hairstyle, perhaps, or a habit of holding a glass with our pinkies out. (You know — just like all black people share a taste for fried chicken or the way all Asians are great at math.) 

In the end, though, I confess I have zero interest in looking "more gay." I'm also not much interested in looking "more straight."

Instead, I just want to be me. 

I want to dress the way I want to dress. I want to act the way I act. I want to be who I am, and love who I love, and marry who I want to marry, without any thought at all about whether those things make me "straight" or "gay" or "strange" or "normal."

I may not look very gay. But — forty-five years into this experiment — I do think I'm closer than ever to just being me.