Dear Theo Martin,
Thank you for leaving a comment in a previous blog entry. Although I rarely reply to comments left in this blog, I read ALL of them, and factor them into my succeeding articles. The note you left struck a particularly interesting chord in me. NOT because you expressed an interest in acquiring my services, but that you wanted to talk to someone, and perhaps, through my writings, I may have given you the (false) impression that I am a valuable listener.
I am not. I'm a self-aggrandizing bastard who's too in love with himself to ever consider the affections of anyone else.
However, as I often do, I followed the link to your blog, and read through your entries.
It seems to me that you're going through some things, and I assume these are the issues you would like to talk about.
I hope you don't mind, but I would address them here in my professional capacity as a scholar of human behavior, social dynamics, and various other fields concerning psychology.
Do not worry. I do not find your case rather exceptional, nor alarmingly severe to merit this special treatment. The truth is, I find your worries common enough. However, you have articulated a common ailment that everyone is afflicted with, and for that, I must commend you. It takes quite a skill in perception to be insightful in one's own insecurities, and I find this entry of yours particularly charming in this regard.
What you are going through is guilt. You loathe yourself for succumbing to your own insecurities. In a previous entry, you have detailed for us the internal turmoil that you have over a break-up with a significant other. I assume this two are related, and in fact, causal.
You hate yourself for subjecting you to these "inferior" gays' judgment:
"Acceptance, that's what you want right? They accepted you, worshiped your body, and ravished your dick. Were the blowjobs good? Were they satisfying? Did they give you your confidence back when they whispered, "ang sarap mo", "ibang klase ka...", "ang bango mo" by your ear, pinching your arms and nipples as they did everything they could dream of with a guy like you ?" (Note to Self, "Stop Begging")
Little do you know that this process of subjecting one's self to the "acceptance" of "others" is fairly normal. In fact, everyone does this in order to fit into the 'society'. This is part of our survival instincts. To survive, we must rely on certain skills; some skills may not be in our possession, so we build relationships with others who are in possession of these skills, and we trust them to provide for us the performance of those skills if the necessity for such is required.
However, I'm digressing. I hope I did not distract you too much. Forgive my attention span, I am quite enamored with my own thoughts, I tend to run away with them.
All right, sir. Back to you.
In simple terms, you are feeling guilty (as you admitted in that post) for letting your insecurities (over your break up) push you into an act (sex with an "inferior" partner) that you normally would not have done have you been more secure of your own worth.
That's a brief analysis. Very blunt, very cold, but quite precise, trust me.
Now, listen to me, for the sake of your mental well being hangs here.
It's OK. It's all right to feel insecure. It's all right to act on these insecurities. It's perfectly normal, and you should not judge yourself too harshly for acting on these impulses to rectify your insecurities.
What's not OK, what's not cool, is wallowing in your own insecurities. Actually, what you did is totally understandable. Those places exist solely to feed on insecurities, trust me.
Look around you. Look at the people you work with. Look at them closely. Each of these people you know have insecurities, and WE ARE ALL dealing with these insecurities everyday. Your case is rooted in your insecurities over your physical identity, perhaps even in your sexual performance, or carnal worth. That is understandable, especially in the context of your recent break up. When a significant other leaves us, we immediately blame ourselves for not satisfying them, for not providing for them the needs that they need. We make a mental checklist, and we do an inventory of our assets and our liabilities, and we compare this inventory of assets with the "social ideal" (which is unique for each communities; I suspect the gay community's "ideal" man is physically fit of form, of a certain teen to twenty years of age, and of certain "manly" behaviors and manners), and finding yourself lacking, you went to a place where you can be affirmed that despite your shortcomings, you are still in the possession of certain assets worth being proud of.
Again, look around you. Look at the well-built gym rats you know. Do you think they're not insecure? The most insecure people in the world congregate in fitness centers: desperate housewives, wimpy gays, unattractive fatties. If you have ever been to a gym, you know it's midlife crisis center. They are as insecure--perhaps, even MORE insecure--than you are. They think that they're problems will go away just because they have a new body type. They think that the husband leaving them will change his mind when they show how much weight they have lost, never considering that it was their nagging, their domineering nature, or the husband's insecurities (more often the case, actually) that's the problem. They think that society will be more acceptable of their sexual preference if they bulk up, if they display how "macho" their pecs and abs are, never considering that the socially constructed concept of "manhood" is always in flux, and thus, is always debatable, regardless of how many iron you're pumping. They think that if they lose enough weight, they can be attractive, never considering that confidence is a mental state, and never a waist size.
The whole world's insecure, and we're all doing something about it. You were, and you did. Move on.
I hope you don't mind that I've taken the liberty of publicly discussing your personal battles. Had you hire me professionally, you could have had sued me for breaching confidentiality. Since you posted them publicly in your journal, anyway, I'm hoping you don't mind.
I'm also hoping I helped you with this post.
Boy Du Jour.