Dallas? Like in Dallas, Texas? That’s the place where a misbegotten soul assassinated one American president, and where another president—misbegotten himself—finds refuge in the heart of darkness.
Yet deep in the heart of Dallas there is a neighborhood called Oaklawn, which shines a bright light in the midst of an otherwise bible-belt, mega-church congregation. Maybe I’m being too harsh; to be honest, I did not wander far or sample amenities such a large and diverse community must have to offer.
Oaklawn is an active and mature gay enclave. I recently visited the Oaklawn “gayborhood” with a group of men I joined when my marriage went south because I am gay. Men in our group have lots in common: being gay and having travelled similar paths. To me, the gay part is special; being part—even temporarily—of a larger gay community is liberating and enabling.
As I define my out of the closet path, I experience a gestalt so much more fulfilling than quickie, hook-up sex I sought when in the closet. I enjoy walking down the street holding hands or sharing a kiss in public. I can enjoy being with a bunch of gay men or my boyfriend. I can be with another man with whom I feel an attachment, with whom I am bonded, and I don’t have to hide it.
Among a community of gay men, no one stares, no one makes rude comments and everyone understands. Like-minded souls embrace my feelings and my passions. These are rewards for coming out of the closet and living an honest and authentic life. This is practically unique in my experience, because no matter how far out of the closet I travel, I cannot experience that freedom at home where I live.
That is absolutely not to say I would move from my home here at the head of the draw to an urban neighborhood where I could more openly celebrate my sexuality. In all this coming-out-sexuality talk, it is easy to lose sight of the fact that sexuality is only one part—albeit sometimes all-consuming—of the whole that is me. I ski…and I am gay. I frequent rarified ridges…and I do so as a gay man. I annoy my horses, and they don’t give a damn one way or another whether I am gay or not…but of course, I am.
Back home now, far from the heart of darkness, I am in another enclave. My place is by no means gay, but instead is a recreation archipelago that celebrates mountains and nature, clean air and water, solitude, prospect and refuge. I have left my gay community behind for the time being, and no question: I miss it. But I am happy in my chosen place. I am content as a gay man because no matter where I go, there I am.
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