Official Participant in the Youth Media

From: colinresponse

WARNING: If you are disgusted by men openly caring about/loving people, this might not be your cup o' tea, doggie.]

If you’ve ever read this blog or know me personally, you probably know that one of the many things I personally struggle with, is my inability to enjoy anything fully (*wah-waah*). Due much to my life’s experience of residing on racial and socioeconomic/class borderlines, I consistently find myself examining my own positionality as well as that of almost every person I come into contact with. My identity, like most, has always been fluid and is never stagnant, continuously in a state of flux as I navigate my way through this strange land known as North America. This is the story of when I was able to enjoy an entire day fully, without once finding a way to feel hopeless (until Prop. 8 passed and made my heteronormative lifestyle make me feel like a muhf*ckin’ jerkface).

Notes from me and my wifey’s my hetero-love-fest summer jam ‘08…

On August 9, 2008, I was a part of a ceremony that celebrated the (lifetime!) union of my partner and myself. It was overcast in the early morning but by the time my queen was preparing to walk down the aisle, I had to squint from the brilliant sunshine that cascaded over the hills of Tilden Park in Berkeley, California. We made efforts to ensure our ceremony was not only counter-hegemonic, but that it acknowledged what a good time it was to be getting married now that Queer brothers, sisters and “gender-nonspecific-term-used-to-describe-a-human-being”s could be wed in the state of California.

Our ceremony included, but was not limited to:

- An Asian American womyn minister, marrying us.

- Pilipino/Catholic traditional ceremonies taking place, that had the (can‘t think of a word to describe it better than) “colonization” removed from them.

- BOTH of the bride’s parents “giving her away.”

- Me slow dancing with my queer godfather in front of everyone during the “money-dance,” having an internal muhf*ckin’ freak-out as all my homeboys watched us, but not allowing my internalized homophobia to scare me into disrespecting a man who has supported, loved, educated and respected me since the day I was born.

- Me committing to a partnership that after 7 years, left zero question in my mind that I was making the wisest decision of my life.

The passing of Prop. 8 on the same day Barack Hussein Obama was elected President of the United States to me, felt like winning the lottery and 5 minutes later, being kicked in the ding-ding and having it ripped from my hand as I fell to my knees. And while I realize there are a plethora of people in my community who feel Obama isn’t really changing anything (I feel you) and lose respect for me because I hold him in high regard at all (I feel you); and while I realize there are a plethora of people I grew up with whose homophobia knows no bounds (due to the ways in which they experienced themselves or wittnessed any man who stepped outside of his gendered role/s and/or look “not masculine,” get f*ckin’ smashed on), this was how that day felt to me.

Love me or hate me - eat I, all (Jay-Z).

On Loving the Crust of a Motherf*cker:

Today I sit here with my wife as she watches “Slumdog Millionaire” pondering the institution of marriage and all the myriad ways we work together to fight the forces that ask us to close our lives off to outside world and devote our existence only to each other. While there are definite ways that this type of commitment has made us more thoughtful about each other as life partners, we make conscious efforts to love each other in a way that promotes growth, combats regression, and revels in intimacy whilst encouraging each other to never close ourselves off to the rest of the world. We fight to the best of our ability to be partners in a country that asks us to take on the gendered roles of husband and wife.

This is, in a way, is an open love letter to my wifey/life partner, eM. It is a thank you from the bottom of my heart for, as Chris Rock aptly states, “loving the crust of a motherf*cker.” I feel it safe to speak from experience that I know TRUE love. In my opinion, you don’t know true love if you can’t fart in front of each other =P. Now I realize I may come off here as old, ancient, married man, but I ask that those of you who are considering being with your current significant other for the rest of your lives, ask yourself this: “can I fart in front of _____ without them freaking the f*ck out?” or “If they farted in front of me, would that be something I’d be able to handle with a smile?” If the answer to either of these questions is “no,” me thinks yo’ ass needs to reconsider your thoughts of walking off into the sunset together, ’cause you aint considered that after the credits roll, muhf*ckas need to pass gas at times and don’t wanna have to hide it for the rest of their lives. But I digress…

You gotta love the crust of a motherf*cker. You can’t just scrape off the burnt parts or just cover that sh*t with jam. You need to appreciate deeply, everything about that toast. ’Cause some of us need a lil more time in the toaster. Some of us were forgotten about and got a little burnt or in some cases, hella burnt. This is not our fault, but when speaking of true LOVE, and authentic partnership, you need to be willing to look at the burnt and/or undercooked (I’m stretching it, I know =P) parts of yourself as well as your partner. And if you think you can hide your burns with the “jam” of money, sex, etc. you haven’t been in a committed relationship for 8 years.

When other heterosexual men (particularly raised working-class and/or of color) ask me how I’ve remained faithful for so long, I tell them that I am immensely blessed to have had some of the best examples of positive, loving relationships I can imagine in my mother and father. Even when they argued and fought, it was never unclear to me that they loved each other. I also had an incredible male role model in my pops who even when he (as all men do) battled his own shortcomings, always treated my mother as if she was his partner as opposed to just, well…his. I have my own shortcomings and because I know myself so well, I know where and when I struggle in being as righteous as possible. I don’t put myself in positions where f*ck-ups are highly likely or even possible and this, coupled with undying trust always coming from my partner, pushes me to trust and be true to myself.

When temptation presents itself (and it has/does), FOUR things go through my mind:

One, is that much of what attracts certain women to me is that my being married is proof that there are heterosexual men out there who have figured out a way to step beyond a fear of commitment and decide to dedicate themselves to one person for the rest of their life. Human beings in general, as many of you already know, have a f*cked up way of wanting what we can’t have. It is highly probable that the ring on my finger that makes me “off-limits,” may to certain individuals, make me look somewhat desirable. =T It’s a cold game, homie.

Two, is that being in a romantic relationship with my best friend, lover, confidant and hugest f*cking ally for the last 8 years of my life, has afforded in me a certain degree of confidence that tells me: “someone loves the crust of you,” and “you are worth being loved.” The confidence produced from this fact is one of the biggest things that I find that attracts women to me in this portion of my life; however, I am quick to remind myself that without the confidence that my partner’s love has afforded in me, this person may not have the slightest interest in me at all. To make a long story short, when someone loves the crust of you, you may end up looking and feeling like a muhf*ckin’ all-star to those who are not sure their “crust” is worth being loved. It’s a cold game, homie.

Three, is that I have known for quite some time that no one in this world has assisted me in locating, liberating and loving myself as eM has, and to betray her trust is to betray myself. It’s not always a cold game, homie.

Four, is that eM is a strong, brilliant, beautiful, sexy, courageous sister who attracts the attention of a plethora of men and still for some reason, has decided to love ME. This fact still astounds me each day when I awake and see her lying next to me, and is NOT taken for granted.

I married eM because I love who I am with her, and I know that this feeling is mutual. I don’t really remember who I was before she began loving me, and I’m not really sure I even care to remember. So to my dear, beautiful, sweet, amazing, brilliant wifey/partner: Thank you from the bottom of my heart, for loving the crust of a motherf*cker.

Your hubby/partner,

Colin Masashi Ehara