Tag Archives: kevin truong

Lancelot, Poet, New York City

photo by Kevin Truong

Lancelot, in his own words: “When I was younger, I had these specific aversions to other’s masculine femininity, drag queens, and gay pride. I remember thinking as a young kid that I didn’t want to be seen as “gay” just as much as I didn’t want to be seen as “straight”. I didn’t want my gender or sexuality to be policed, monitored or critiqued in any way. However, I wore eyeliner and “girls” clothes for three out of four years of high school, and was attracted to men long before that. I was exploring sex with both guys and gals when I lost my virginity as a teenager. But then, it was just sex and I loved all different kinds of people. I partied a lot, painted, did a little writing, moved around every couple of years; I was aloof. I was overly susceptible to constantly living between two worlds or two states of being- my parents’ separate houses, sober and intoxicated, art and writing, awake and dreaming, and ultimately sexuality.

I think I came to understand the words “gay” and “queer” through performance media and my process of developing as an artist and poet. It probably wasn’t until I was living in New York and starting college that I realized how establishing and identifying myself with sexuality could inform my gender, create new aesthetic stakes in my art making, and invert the negative attitudes of people who thought what I desired was inherently flawed. I didn’t want to choose sides, but instead draw attention to my specific, gender duality and see where it landed me. I ultimately reached a deeper sense of compassion and understanding toward myself. I finally wanted to be someone who lived vivaciously and honestly, abrasively if it meant inciting others to be impassioned and stronger.

I took a class once where I had to do a drag performance on the spot. This really freaked me out. But when I took what I learned and filtered it through my own sensibility, there I stood in front of my class wearing nothing but a towel, my whole head masked in a thick layer of white, acrylic paint, dancing Butoh style under spotlight. I’ve never experienced anything so satisfying. After that, I think pushing sexuality and asking what it means in relation to gender, or being “queer”, is to be otherworldly…a strange monster . . . and I find that pretty cool.

I am constantly mediating crippling depression and anxiety. I would like to overcome this daily preoccupation with less paranoia about whether people might react negatively toward me; I already give myself a hard enough time. There were times I felt conflicted or embarrassed about my feelings toward some of my male friends, but they never judged me for it, and being honest always made bonds stronger. I got made fun of for how I dressed in school, even for keeping diaries, but that was pretty short-lived. With the assumption that many people experience self-hatred or violence against who they are, I consciously do not relate my sexual identity with doubt and shame. Sexuality is maybe the one part of my life that I love to celebrate. I am thankful for my own ability to not allow it to breed internal guilt so severe that I’m harmful to myself, or allow myself to be a victim.

“Coming Out” was not a proclamation for me. My sexuality progressed and developed naturally in various and unpredictable ways. Anyone who was in close proximity to me witnessed it happening and accepted what I was doing. On separate occasions, my parents discovered I was dating a guy when I was 16. I talked to them separately about my wonderful girlfriend freshman year of college, and then how another boyfriend took me out for my 21st birthday, and so on. My mother tends to worry and my father is skeptical, but regardless of how they really feel, I can now talk openly with them. I guess in some ways, I still haven’t “come out” to distant relatives but if they were to ever find an interest in my sex life, I would have no problem telling them about it. More importantly, my friends and family can see who/what I am through my actions and physical presence, allowing me the freedom and encouragement to say and do whatever I want. I still have a lot of breaking out to do; my image and energy are too internal for my new tastes.

I recently moved to Philly from Brooklyn. I heard that if you’re not gay here, you’re a minority and I thought that was funny.”

photo by Kevin Truong

Ian, Civil Servant, London

photo by Kevin Truong

Ian, in his own words: “Maybe I was lucky but I don’t really remember there being any big deal about coming out. I was about 15 or 16 and pretty confident about stuff, I had always known I was gay and I was never any good at hiding things. I started subscribing to gay news in about 1977 (when I was 15) and this used to arrive in a brown paper envelope. I was also obsessed with gay literature and on my bookshelves there was Edmund White’s, a boy’s own story, Gore Vidal’s, city and the pillar and James Baldwin’s, Giovanni’s room to name but a few – so it was pretty obvious to anyone who cared to look and my poor mum cleaned my room in those days!!!. It was the time of punk and I was a little obsessed with the Tom Robinson Band and in 1977 or 78 they had a rising free EP out which included the song “glad to be gay”. I remember buying this in the local WH Smith (it reached nos 18 in the UK charts) and playing on repeat for hours. So I don’t think anyone in my house had any doubts!!! I recall a conversation with my mum in the kitchen of our house in Newport Gwent when I was about 16 – I guess you can call this my coming out moment but my mum told me she already knew. I think I was a bit disappointed as I was hoping for a bit of a reaction (I liked to court reaction in those days!).

I never actually had “the” conversation with my dad it was just sort of presumed really. I vaguely remember my sister being a bit upset when I told her but she was upset because I had not told her before!

So all in all pretty straightforward and not really an issue or big deal. Mind you looking back I’m amazed at how brazen I was from such a young age!!!

Guillermo and Alvaro, PR Advisor/Dancer and Artist/Clinical Psychologist/Psychotherapist, Panama City

photo by Kevin Truong

Alvaro, in his own words: “I was always a different kind of kid, uncomfortable with big crowds and loud noises, I didn’t like people smoking around me or establishing physical contact with me when there was no need. Being in large groups with other kids wasn’t my thing. I used to play alone and I always tried to maintain some personal space since I felt overwhelmed with the stimuli. While I grew up I noticed the stimuli could not only be physical but emotional. I didn’t have a word for it but looking back I can see I was a very empathic kid, picking up on emotional signs in people from a very young age. I got overwhelmed sometimes so my first attempt at controlling the stimuli was to get away from it… from people, that is. I still need to do that sometimes.

Drawing was always there for me when I was alone and I could spend hours filling the pages of drawing pads and sketchbooks, I used to doodle everywhere, the walls, books, any piece of paper I could find, etc. I wasn’t really a noisy kid, I developed a whole universe in my head that nobody else knew about. But I remember I couldn’t decide whether my favorite color was green or blue, then I added red and I got completely confused. Back then I thought I was defective because I couldn’t make up my mind about such small things. I felt as if I was left behind somehow. Eventually I discovered my “defect” granted me the chance to appreciate all colors, switch between one or the other and mix them all together whenever I wanted to, while people around me could only see beauty in one or two things at once. I noticed I didn’t have to choose (or I chose not to choose) and I never thought of myself as “defective” again.

That’s until I hit puberty, my sexuality kicked in and I realized I was different to my peers in yet another aspect. I wasn’t attracted to girls in the same way my friends were. Even my drawings reflected my sexual orientation. I didn’t have a word for what I was feeling except the derogatory ones I had learned at school, on TV or even at home when some family members referred to non-straight people. I was lost, I thought I wouldn’t be able to control this new difference and turn it into something good. I fought my homosexuality for years, I tried to erase it, hide it, forget about it. I graduated high school and went to the University to become a Psychologist, there I tried to analyze my sexuality, interpret it, I cried a lot and got angry at myself for being like that. I feared rejection and got depressed. I rejected myself and I stopped producing any type of art for a couple of years.

I dated women, I slept with them and had a good time. I remember my dad caught me a couple of times with a girlfriend and he would only smile with pride. I was so happy he approved, I felt so validated. But one day I had to face it: I had been lying to myself and sex with women wasn’t going to work for me forever. I had sex with another man for the first time when I was 21 (I know it sounds late but that’s how it was). When I was finally building up the courage to talk to my parents about my sexuality, my dad got in a car accident. I wanted to tell him about me if only to be honest with him and because I was desperate to know if he’d still love me if I was gay, but he died before I had the chance to find out, so my question will remain unanswered forever. A month after his passing I began drawing men again, I haven’t stopped since then and now my art is one of the things that define me as a human being, as a man, as a gay man.

Eventually I “came out” to my mother and she cried and stopped talking to me. She had a whole lot of misguided ideas and I had to clarify a lot of things for her. It was a growing up experience for both of us. Now she and the rest of my family know about me and they respect me. Anonymity is no longer my primary defense and I even disagree with the expression “coming out of the closet” since I think the closet is where you keep the things you’re not using at any given time and the truth is sexuality permeates our every move, our every thought, our every emotion. We interpret life and the world around us based on who we are and our sexuality is a big part of that.

I’m a Doctor in Clinical Psychology and a Psychotherapist, I work with all kinds of people but always keep a big part of my practice dedicated to gay or bisexual men and women, same sex couples or even parents that get scared because their kids are “different”. I’m also a self taught drawing artist, which is my true passion and my subjects are mostly men, these days I use multiple colors and don’t feel defective for it, and I try to challenge myself every time. I’ve had a few partners and I must admit I’m a long term relationship kind of guy, though I’ve had my share of short and casual encounters, if you must know. I workout, eat well and try to be as honest to myself and others as I can consciously be. I recently started doing theater and for years I’ve run a blog on Psychology and Sexual Diversity. I still resonate with other people emotionally but I use it now to try and help them in my practice or to feed my artistic side.”

Alvaro’s art.

Alvaro’s blog.

Twitter: @algomprado

Facebook: Facebook.com/algomprado

Guillermo, in his own words: “I was fortunate to be able to develop my career and alongside my real passion which is dancing. I always say that I studied to be a Communicator (PR, Advertising, Marketing, etc.), but I was born to be a dancer. Since I can remember I have danced, even when my mom tells stories from my childhood, most of them describe me dancing. Choreographing with my cousins and neighbors for parties was something I used to do while growing up. My first dance partner was my sister who supported me in all my follies, and still does!

I remember my dad telling me when I was still very young: “My dear son, be whatever you want to be, but always be the best.” To this day, that was my North Star, be the best PR and Communications Advisor, be the best dancer, be the best son, the best brother, the best boyfriend, in short, be a better person every day.

Obviously there were many obstacles, being gay in a country like Panama isn’t easy. First off, in a country the size of a lentil, everyone knows you or your family (which means that being in the closet 100% is virtually impossible). Secondly, the religious and macho culture ingrained in my family has made it more difficult. It was not easy trying to figure out who I was, especially while going through my parents divorce, which was very traumatic for our family.

It has been an extensive process of assimilation, acceptance and growth for both me and the people close to me. Doubts, insecurities and fears have slowly dissipated. I feel proud of each and every one of these experiences and feelings, good and bad, because they have made me the man I am today.”