Very Unnecessary Scenes

This musing comes after having watched Notting Hill, that irreverent UK romantic comedy that can only be pulled off by those folks over there; having it written by Richard Curtis was another bonus. Don’t get me wrong. American romantic comedies are as funny but are far more calculated. The one-two-three punchline is predictable in most cases. But I’m not writing to discuss the difference between the two. I’m writing to make an observation about gay relationships.

In Notting Hill, the complications were not the usual Venus-Mars argument, that men are pigs, women are bitches and animals are incensed at humans for the unauthorized use of their likeliness. The argument was whether a relationship between a superstar and a simpleton could work. And the answer, of course, was yes — Michael Jackson notwithstanding.

How does this relate to gay relationships is the fact that for the most of us, complications like these are rare. The familiar story would revolve around a gay frog trying to pick up a prince or king for a lil romp in the bush that could possibly end that horrible spell — the dry spell. The gay frog would obviously be 80% of the gay population, while the other 10% think that they are the prince/king. The remaining 10% are just the other frogs laughing their asses off at this little pick-up scene.

The moral of the story is that most of us create these little dramas for ourselves. We don’t have the Venus-Mars complications. Our partners are Martians just like us, even in the most butch-fem relationships. Gay relationships by simple biological and psychological definition are so easy to construct and maintain. We have the same physical equipment and same emotional make-up. Gay relationships should have been a breeze. But it is not.

A casual eavesdropping at your local haunt would dredge up the number one reason why most gay relationships end in the waste basket, tossed away like a used condom : the biggest impediment to a healthy gay relationship is our emotional scars. Our love lives are complicated by emotional baggages ranging the gamut of really dysfunctional families to low self-worth and feelings of inadequacy. Other examples include internalized homophobia, verbal, physical and sexual abuse, and even discrimination within the gay community. By the time we’re ready to form adult relationships, our baggages would look like they had just returned from a missing flight to the French Alps thirty years ago.
 

Getting it together

So how do we go about getting rid of these baggages then? There’s a lot of self-help books out there. There’s also a plethora of shrinks ready to get into your head — and in some rare and somewhat icky situations, get your head inside their mouths. Here’s my remedy, without the per-hour costs or sexual quid pro quo arrangement:

• Start by acknowledging that there is a problem. You don’t have to know what the problem is because it’s irrelevant at this point. Analogy : realize that you’re fidgety.
• Identify the problem. The problem is truly a reaction to an action or inaction. It could be something that you've done that you didn’t get acknowledgment for. Or it could be something you've done that directly hurt your guy. Analogy : is it a headache or a bruised temple?
• Identify who is causing the problem. Is it you? Is it him? Usually it is easier to blame it on the other party/trick/partner if a relationship was to falter than to blame yourself. But do the Asian thing first: find if you’re the one to blame. Analogy : was it something you ate or didn’t do?      FACT : In most cases, it’s not just one party that is to blame.
• Analyze the problem. Why does that action or inaction hurt you? It might have something to do with how you were treated in the past. Rightly or wrongly, human beans tend to repeat our past mistakes until we learn from it. This step asks you to go back to the recess of your mind — this bit might sound like a trip to the shrink, but it’s not — and reexamine the first time you experienced that same hurt. Analogy : it is a headache and it was something you didn’t do.
• Forgive the do-er. Whoever he/she was that hurt you in the past no longer remembers that incident or if he/she does, it’s a trivial piece of his/her life. Since you’re the only one who is holding on to that painful memory, you have to get a firm grip of it and learn to let it go. Analogy : forgive yourself for not taking aspirin at the required time.
• Take charge. Get back to the present and fix the current situation. The solution can be radical and radically simple. Analogy : take that damn aspirin and coalesce.

You’re Stuck With It.

At the end of Notting Hill, as in every other nicely-tied movies, Anna Scott (Roberts) learned that giving the man that she’s dating a clean slate and trusting him to do her right was the key to getting out of the vicious cycle she was in. William Thacker ( Grant) character also learned something : that while he was not Prince Charming for his ex-wife, he certainly is the one for Anna.

There is an irony to this emotional equilibrium. The ugly truth is that you could never forget what had happened. But it’s what makes you who you are, the beautiful you who had learned to unlearn.

By the next time you start a new relationship — tricks could also be considered relationships — you will know if who you have is Mr. Right Now or Mr. Almost Right.

Yes, Miss Thang. You heard me. There’s no such creature as Mr. Right.

WetWetWet

PS — I’d be more than happy to be in love with Mr. Almost Right.