Congrats To Robbie Rogers

Okay, I know I am a little late in sending my congratulations to Robbie Rogers, but, to be fair, I have been a bit overwhelmed. My problems aside, however, I commend Robbie on his courage to become one of a very few professional athletes to publicly come out. Not only do you set the example for athletes who may be in the closet, but you set an example to anyone who is afraid to be them self for fear of ridicule and outcry.It is not easy being a first for anything, let alone, something that is all too often one of the last forms of acceptable bigotry and hate. Robbie, you have my support as well as my utmost respect. Love to all.

Burly Bear Chris

A Coming Out Story Continued: Closets Without Borders

This is the 6th in a series. If you found yourself here first, please click HERE to start at the beginning. Yesterday I left off with the introduction of Carter. Here is a man who has been there for me when I needed a friend, and waited for me to give him a chance. I could no longer say no. Carter was everything I needed. He was kind. He was patient. He was intelligent. He was handsome. He loved me. But most of all, he was safe. Carter lived just about as far away from me as one could get. 5500 miles and 9 time zones away to be exact. Carter and I would chat online everyday. The time differences meant I had to adjust to some pretty odd hours, but he was worth it. We would talk about our future together. As gay marriage is legal where Carter lives, we even talked about getting married. We spent the next 18 months in what was almost the perfect relationship. I say almost because there were two things that stood out the most that kept it from being the absolute perfect relationship. The first was the distance. There were a few times that we had planned on meeting each other in person and each time circumstances beyond either of our controls prevented it from happening. The second was, I was still someone's secret. Carter was living in the double closet. Those that did know he was gay, had no clue he was a chaser. Upon reflection of our relationship I had come to realize that as Idealistic it was, and as perfect as he was, it just wasn't realistic. There was no way either of us could up and leave to move to another country. So for the first time, I had to break off the relationship with someone who had not done me any wrong. Someone I loved and I knew he loved me. It took me a few days after coming to this decision before I could muster up the courage to do it. When I did it, I held back the tears and told him how I felt and that it was best to end the relationship but wanted and needed his friendship. It went smoothly. Too smoothly. He said he understood and okay. I actually felt hurt it went so smoothly. Then, the next day, Carter sent me an email. It wasn't until later he realized what I had said and how badly he felt. There was the knife in the chest I had expected. I tried to keep a stiff upper lip and we still continued to chat everyday. Until one day when he told me about someone he had met. That's when I couldn't hold back the emotion any longer and I cried in front of him. But that was also a turning point as from that moment on it became okay to talk to each other about the guys we were liking and dating. It was no longer the elephant in the room that we had to tiptoe around. Carter and I still talk to each other nearly every day. He is and will always be one of my best friends. As well as nearly all my exes mentioned in this series. I truly believe that my heart is like a safe and once someone is in there, they are there to stay, even if that means being friends and not lovers. That brings you all up to date. That is the history of my first 42 years. I hope that by sharing my story with you all not only will you get a better chance of who I am and what I have been through, but that maybe I could help others who may find themselves in similar situations.As I move forward, I have taken something from each relationship and and now have a better understanding of our Bear/Chub/Chaser community, of the types of men out there, and most of all, myself and what it is that I want in a partner. Although there are many more chapters in my life to write, this is the last in the closet series, for the thing I have learned the most, it can't work if I am a secret. Thanks to all who have continued to follow me through this series. If anyone has any questions, advice or simply want to say how reading these might have helped you, do not hesitate to contact me.Love to all.

Burly Bear Chris

A Coming Out Story Continued: The Cyber Closet

This is the fifth in a series. If you got here first, you may want to begin at A Coming Out Story and continue from there. I left off yesterday with the introduction of Mario. (As usual, I am not using the guys real names.) But before I continue on with him I need to step back a bit. As things began to fade between Luke and I, I found myself spending more and more time online making friends on sites like Biggercity and Bear411. Some were casual acquaintances, while others became truly deep connections. One of these connections was Buddy. Buddy and I clicked immediately. He and I could tell each other anything. In the beginning, he and I connected over the fact that we were both in relationships that seemed to be struggling for life. We would chat for hours about what was going on and what each of us needed but not getting. It soon developed into more then just a kinship, as we began to share with each other our fantasies and desires. The best part of it was it was safe. We lived so far apart so the chances of taking it farther then the keyboards was slim. When things did end with Luke and I, Buddy's friendship really helped me from blaming myself and isolating myself away. The only problem was I had left Luke's professional closet and was now in Buddy's cyber closet. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed our chats very much and his friendship carries on with me to this day, but I was still not getting the physical attention I had been neglected all those years as well as still, yet again, I was someone's secret. So that is when I started going out to the bar, and started "dating" other guys. One guy I had met was Tab (odd name yes, but its fake and he will get the reference, haha). Tab and I talked several times online and I liked him very much. So much so that I wanted everything perfect the first time we were together. I kept putting off meeting him, not because I wasn't interested in him, but just the opposite and wanted to make the best first impression. When we finally met up, I was so shy, so nervous and so sure that he would only like me for one thing, I completely blew our meeting. I did not stop to think that he could possibly be thinking the same about me. He and I chatted here and there after that, but it wasn't the same. we had a definite friendship, but there was something there that was preventing us from moving beyond that. About a year later is when Mario and I began to date. Mario asked me to be his boyfriend and the very next day, Tab needed a place to stay and came to stay with me. We never did anything that week other then be friends, and after that week Tab left. As he was leaving I felt like I was making the worst mistake in my life by not begging him to stay. It wasn't until two years later when we had rekindled our friendship and were able to talk of of our first night did I fully understand that my actions could be taken as that I was the one not interested. Instead of him hurting me, I had hurt him. And by the time I had realized this, it was too late to go back and change things. But that's jumping ahead. Mario and I were now boyfriends. He was the first man to send me flowers for my birthday. He told me "I love you" first. He treated me quite well, in the beginning. I later learned that when he did those things, it was not because he wanted to make me happy, but apologize for things he was doing that I did not know about. I learned a few months later that Mario was also with another man. That was it. I was through with the men in my life and I retreated back into the cyber world. At the time I had been chatting with someone from another country as friends for over six years. He had asked me in the past if there was ever a chance between us and I always said no. After the hurt Mario caused me, I was talking to this friend and he again asked me if there was a chance between us. After thinking about it, I finally said yes. And that is where Carter comes in. More on him in the next blog. Thanks for reading. Love to all.

Burly Bear Chris

A Coming Out Story Continued: The Double Closet

This is a continuation of A Coming Out Story and A Coming Out Story Continued, So if you have not read those first, follow the links and then come back here. When we left off, I had just met "Mike" as I was leaving the bar. He had asked for my number and I was shocked to actually hear from him a few weeks later. We had agreed to meet back at the bar where we met at, as we were both coming from opposite directions and the bar happened to be in the middle. I got there early and was nervous as all hell. I waited first in the bar, then outside the bar. As it got later and later I was sure I had been stood up. When it got to be an hour late I had decided he wasn't coming and started to head back to my car. As I crossed the parking lot I heard a familiar voice, "Hey gorgeous!" I turned and there was Mike. My anger at him being late dissolved with those two simple words. He suggested that we go somewhere else and I said sure and followed him like a puppy to his truck. After mentioning different places he said he had a place in mind to take me. I said sure, where ever. That's when we arrived at a place I had not even heard of before. Our first date and he was already showing me new things! It was my first time at a spa. I had images of getting massages and sitting in a hot tub. Boy was I in for a shock. After paying for our "private room" a getting our towels, (I was actually shocked they had extra large ones for people like me.) we headed in. The delusions I had about the "spa" quickly faded. It became quite obvious why he had brought me here and what he was looking for. As we headed to the the room and passed opened doors there were several guys in various sexual acts who did not care who could see. In the room Mike explained that we had to be completely nude except for the towels in the place and proceeded to get undressed. I was hesitant but eventually succumbed to the pressure. He then showed me around the place like a proper tour guide, but I was more focused on noticing that once again, I was the only chubby guy in the place. After the tour we went back the the room (room is used loosely as it was really a closet with a cot) and proceeded to "enjoy" our time together. When it came time to leave he told me to wait. "Let me go out first, you wait a few minutes and meet me at the car." I thought a bit odd, but agreed, half expecting him to be gone and I had no way back to my car. I was relieved to see he was there when I got there. As he drove me back to the bar to get my car, he explained, "Sorry, I thought I might have had friends in the area and didn't want them to see me leaving with a chub, they don't know I am a chaser." I sat there in silence as I tried to process the information he just told me. I knew I was chubby so I must be the chub, but what is a chaser? And why is it so embarrassing? Before I had the chance to even ask him these questions he hit me with another shocker. "Plus it might get back to my boyfriend. Oh, I did tell you I had a boyfriend, right?" I paused for what seemed to me an eternity, but was just a few seconds and said, "No, no you didn't." The night went very different from what I expected and it was quickly turning from bad to worse.  I was mad at him for lying to me. I was mad at myself for allowing him to use me. But was so desperate for the attention I said yes to another "date" before I could even stop myself. After a few days and the shame had begun to wear off I decided to do some research on these new terms I had heard. What is a chub and chaser. That is when I found that there was actually a subculture of gay men out there that actually had men like me! And on top of that, there was a bar close to me in Long Beach that actually had a night dedicated to them. After several months of trying to get the courage to go and still seeing "Mike" on the side, I finally managed to muster up enough bravery to go on one of these nights. What I didn't know was that by the time I got to the bar, the social was over. So I sat at the bar, alone playing one of those bar top video games when I was approached by a cute guy. We talked for a while and he asked me if I had been there for the social, I explained I arrived to late and he explained he did too. It was late and I had to get home so I told him I had to leave. He walked me to the car and I asked if he would be at the next one. He said he wasn't sure as no one knew he was a chaser and wasn't sure if he could sneak away. What the hell? Why can't these guys tell anyone that they like guys like me? That is when I learned of the "Double Closet" Some guys can come out as a gay man, but it is such a stigma to be fat, that they can not bring themselves to tell others that they are attracted to bigger guys. It suddenly dawned on me. My life would never be free of secrets. Not only had I kept my sexual orientation a secret, from both straights and gays, but any partner I have would have to keep his preference for guys like me a secret too. I didn't go back to that bar for a very very long time. I did meet up with "Mike" on several more occasions, but it was simply to fulfill our physical needs. My dream of living a happy life with anyone had faded. I was defeated. That was, until I met "Luke". But that will have to wait for the next chapter. Thanks for reading everyone. Love to all.

Burly Bear Chris

A Coming Out Story Continued: Out Of A Closet Into Another

I have had some wonderful response to my coming out story, but I have also received several people asking me a few questions. "What happened after you came out?" "What was it like a s a big man to come out?" "Did you find your soul mate?" and more. So I am going to continue my story today and try to answer a few of these questions. Where I left off was the reaction of family and friends. What I should explain further was the effects of coming out and how they effected me. As  I stated, I was 27, but felt 17 again. Here I am finally accepting myself as a gay man, and those around me now know and accept me too. It was an euphoric feeling.  I starting hitting all the bars in LA. At first I was just so excited to be with my own kind of people! The music was better. The drinks were better! The people were better! But were they really? As the blinding excitement began to fade I noticed something rather odd. All the guys around me were thin, well built, and as hot as they looked, they were rather cold in their personalities. I went to my first gay pride in Palm Springs. I had a great time with a few of my new gay friends. That was until we were at one of the clubs in the evening. My friend and I were dancing on the dance floor when I was approached my a few people filming the action in the club. He said to me, "Uhm could you move off the floor so we can shoot the hot guys." I felt punched in the face. Here I was, hiding who I was all these years for fear of rejection from those different from me, yet now I am being rejected by those that are like me. I stopped going to the clubs. I felt I left one closet, only to be put into another. I had to hide from the gay world that, I was like them. Then one day I came upon a personal ad. I won't use his real name, we will just call him Joe. Joe was looking for a chubby guy. I had to respond because for all I knew from what I saw at the clubs, I was the ONLY chubby gay. Joe and I talked back and forth for a while. He lived only 30 miles away so we quickly set up our first date. When we met for the first time it was like "Wow!", I could not believe this hunk wanted someone like me. He took me to a bar near his home and he bought me a drink, and asked me to play a game of darts. After a while it became obvious he was trying to let me win. He would touch my arm when he spoke to me, compliment my throw, even if it did miss the board. I had never had this type of attention before. When we got back in the car, he looked at me and smiled. "Did you hear what I said?" he asked snapping me out of a magical daydream I was having about him. "Oh, uh, no sorry." I said. He laughed and said, "I said you are a very beautiful man." Much like today, I did not take compliments very well as I never know what to say and always doubt the sincerity. He then leaned over and gave me my first real gay kiss. I saw fireworks. I could not believe I found this man and he liked me as much as I liked him!. Over the next few months I would see him every chance I got. We introduced each other to the our families. I was finally living a life I always wanted. That was until Joe got addicted to Meth. I had not known he was once addicted before we met and that some old "friends" had reintroduced it to him. Soon all the time we would spend together was time he was looking to score some drugs. He ended up draining my savings and when I told him that was it, I wanted my money back and him to get clean, he got abusive. Hit me with a pair of brass knuckles he pulled out of his pocket and the pulled a gun out of his backpack and pointed it at me. We were in my car at the time and I noticed a cop up ahead, so I pulled over and threw him out of the car. I secretly wanted the cop to see and knew he would run from them. I never wanted to see him again, yet at the same time couldn't think of nothing else but him. He was so different when we met to what the drugs did to him. He was my first love and will always be remembered for that, they way he was in the beginning. I wore out so many CD's of Cher's "Believe", I even bought one that simply had 12 different versions of that one song, and listened to them over and over again, using it as my anthem, telling myself there was life after love. But it took a long time. After a while I then allowed some friends to convince me to go to some bars I had not been to yet. They assured me I would like these better. That is when I discovered Faultline in LA. It was my introduction the Leather Bear Community. I was very timid still and even though these guys were more like me, I remained the wallflower. With what I went through with Joe, I developed a dislike for alcohol as any form of inebriation reminded me of how people change from who they really are, so I would usually just watch and be the driver as my fiends let their hair down and had a good time. One of these trips I was standing near the door drinking my water when I noticed this handsome guy walk past and into the phone booth. As usual I looked, I admired, I wrote him off as out of my league. Next thing I know he is standing next to me and saying something, I looked to him and said "what?" he then said again, "Is that all your drinking?" I explained yes and that I was the DD. He then offered to get me another, I said sure. To this day I have no idea if someone is hitting on me or just being nice, so I assume the later to be safe. When he came back, he suggested we got to a quieter section of the bar. He introduced himself. Again I will use a fake name, Mike. After a few minutes my friends came to me, way too drunk to take care of themselves so I had to say goodbye to Mike. He asked for my number. I was surprised when he called me a few days later wanting to meet again. And I will continue this story tomorrow. Thank you for reading this far and for all your support. Love to all.

Burly Bear Chris

A Coming Out Story

So I thought today I would share my coming out story. I did not come out to my friends and family until rather late compared to most. I was 27 at the time. I had known I was attracted to guys since the third grade when I named my pet rabbit Troy after a boy in my class that I had liked. Of course then it was not a sexual attraction, as I had no idea what sex even was, but I knew that I wast fascinated by him. By the time I had hit puberty, it was male genitals that got my attention, not woman's breasts like the rest of my friends. I knew I was different, but did not know why. I thought that if I could pretend to like girls and followed the actions of my friends, that maybe someday I too would find them as wonderful as they did. I finally learned what a "fag" was in Junior High. I had heard the word and knew it was a bad word, but never knew the meaning until one day I called someone that and was overheard by a teacher who then took me to the principle. I remember him asking, "Do you even know what that word means?" I had to admit I didn't and he proceeded to tell me it was a boy who liked boys instead of girls and that it was a terrible thing to call someone. As I was a normally nerdy good student, he said that he would not have to tell my parents, so no one knew about our conversation. But I knew. And I replayed it over and over in my head. I remember thinking I liked boys instead of girls. I was a fag. I was a terrible thing. That made me even more determined then ever to be "normal" and tried desperately to like girls. I had several girl friends, but could never bring myself to cross that line into girlfriend. In high school I had one who her and I were the best of friends. Several people thought we were a couple, and I made no attempt to correct that. I felt safe if they thought I was normal. At  about 15 I learned that there were people who liked both men and women and were called bisexual. So I began to think of myself as bi, even though I had no sexual interest in girls at all. It was a label I put on myself, no one ever asked me and assumed I was straight, but somehow it made it a little easier to accept to myself that I liked boys. At 17, after high school, I was working for Domino's Pizza and met Shane. He was the first openly gay role model I ever had. He was 6 years older. I remember just studying him and quickly became friends with him. When we were alone I could not stop asking him questions and quickly placed myself under his wing. He even gave me my first drink of alcohol. It was his 24th birthday. Looking back at it now, I am sure he picked up that I too was gay, but he never said anything. Or at least, never got to. A few months later Shane was killed. A death I blamed myself for, but I will save that story for another blog. I not only lost a very dear friend, but the man I looked up to the most. At his funeral, I remember the terrible things his mother had said under her breath about her son being in hell because of his wicked homosexual ways. That's when I knew I had to keep my secret from my family. I never wanted my mother to hate me, or worse, die of a heart attack, finding out I was gay. For ten years after that I tried my best to keep my secret. I lived a busy life, so if asked why I wasn't dating, I simply didn't have the time. A few times I had what I though were close calls. And I thought I did well at covering my tracks. I never had a serious boyfriend, but I was having one night stands and hook ups. By the time I was 27 , both my sisters had married and started families. My mom would ask, "When are you starting yours?" I could not take it any longer. I wanted what they had. I wanted to find my soul mate. So I called my sisters and mother to a family meeting and proceeded to tell them I had big news. I stood before them, and told them, "I'm gay!" there was a pause then my sister said "Duhhh" and my mother said, "Oh I've known" Instead of the big bang like a balloon popping that I expected, it went more like pppffffttttt and I felt a little deflated. My mom then said, "I have always known, but read books that said I had to wait for you to tell me." The tables turned and now I was the one in shock. I told her, "Well you could have left the book out for me to see it too!" Then suddenly I felt both free and yet, angry at all the time I wasted hiding for nothing. I then told all my friends. Their reactions were somewhat surprising too. Most of them thought I was pulling their leg or lying. It confused me. My family knew the whole time, yet the friends I spent the most time with had no clue. In all I only lost 2 friends that could not accept me for who I was. All the others were happy that I could finally be myself. I then went from being 27 to 17 again. I got to do all those things normal teenagers got to do a decade before. Date, mingle, and bring some to meet the family. I still wish I had those years to live over and not waste them the way I did. But things happen for a reason I guess. Well, that's my story, sorry it was so long and hope you enjoyed. Love to all.

Burly Bear Chris.