This must be the season of lurking. My last post and comments where meant to highlight that there are two sides of the coin of having to protect oneself, and how tired I get of negative guys only talking about themselves, and how they if they could only stay away from “us” or at least if we only disclosed to them so they could avoid “us” then it would be such a perfect world.
I jokingly said maybe we need a system by which to protect ourselves that included a public notary on for on the spot encounters at the bathhouse.
Jeeez, now would they complainers be willing to give their real and full names on a document to be held accountable for their behaviour, I doubt not.
Nonetheless, I’m not suggesting, recommending, nor endorsing not disclosing. In these posts I’m not telling anyone about anything they have to or should do. You’re all adults out there, and everyone has to find their way, and often that is fluid.
And let’s face it, if someone rejects me because he is sero-sorting, really in the end, he will potentially screw himself far more than his desire to screw anyone else. My hurt feelings will not compare to the heightened risks, or the embarrassment of bumping into me at the pharmacy.
For me it took a lot of experimenting. Twenty-years later I’m still not sure I have all the answers, and how I’d proceed if I were living a life that wasn’t public.
I’ll recount a fleeting thought process I took note of yesterday.
At the YMCA yesterday, I took a soak after my yoga class. I always try to sit with my back in front of the jet on the side facing that opposite wall of the space so I can watch the semi-and naked guys walk past.
One guy walked by, quite cute actually. And let me preface this by I’ve never picked up anyone at the Y, and I knew that this was not about to change.
This fellow looks over my way and heads into the showers. I was feeling as if I had enough of the whirlpool but held off heading out as I didn’t want to appear as if I were chasing the guy.
A few moments passed and he reappeared and came into the whirlpool. I sat there for a few minutes, and ran the movie in my head of us actually talking etc. Then I thought, “Ah I can’t deal with energy of disclosure.” And for me disclosure is not just about HIV status, although that would be the most immediate one. The others I leave for dating situations.
Even so, I ran that little situational featurette in my head, and realized how much I hate that process and it’s far better to either 1) pick up gays at the ACT reception area - this is what happened with the last guy I saw, or 2) stick to those I meet in person or via internet profiles.