Juan in a Million

[May 25th, 2005] "Gay men are engineered in a way that doesn't allow them to be with one person forever." That's what my friend John believes, anyway.

John's 38 and has been a flight attendant for the past four years, which makes him some sort of relationship expert. Heterosexuals have a better chance at making things work, John claims, because they approach issues from different sides to accomplish goals, and lesbians are simply born "nesters." Gay men look at long-term commitment as a burden, John claims, like a noose around a well-groomed neck. Then he hit me with: "Why have you stayed with your man so long?"

The question, which I find a little difficult to answer, seems timely because today, May 25, Juan and I mark our 10th anniversary as a couple. While I expect to have a gay ol' time in our celebration, about the last thing I ever expected was to have anyone question why we would still be together.

Maybe because it's the one thing in my life that I don't ever question.

It's not that I've become so comfortable with my relationship that I take it for granted. Far from it: There are plenty of days when I truly believe I don't deserve to be with such a special and-you'd have to agree-handsome guy. It's just that, over the years, I've come to realize that Juan and I are part of a new generation of queer folk who no longer need to hide their pride in the closet, or to introduce their partner as a "roommate" or "special friend."

Although I have been guilty of that particular sort of self-esteem-deflating behavior many times in the past, most people that I know are aware that: (a) I'm gay; (b) I have a partner; and (c) I love him very much.

What most people don't know is how hard it was for me to get to this point, and how I probably wouldn't have accomplished it without a whole lot of help from Juan. In the past year I've come out to my entire family, which was both harder and more of a relief than I ever imagined.

What else people might not know is that it has taken my entire life to figure out that the normalcy of a long-term relationship is something worth striving for, since for a long time I thought that would never seem like an ideal for a gay man like me. My relationship is so solid now that when I see the trouble following closeted queers like Jim West, the mayor of Spokane, Wash., or James McGreevey, the former governor of New Jersey, it takes me a minute to realize that that brand of shame is no longer a part of my universe.

That doesn't mean being part of a couple hasn't been confusing or complicated, especially when it comes to the issue of marriage. Juan's willingness to get married-and my initial unwillingness-has helped define our future in a way that just another long, drawn-out relationship talk never could.

So here's what I know: A long-term relationship for a gay man can be as supportive, messy and ultimately exhilarating as that of any straight couple I've ever known. I think that's a message our generation can leave behind. And I thank god I found someone to help me be a part of that conversation.

Here's to another 10-hell, let's make that 50-years together.