Because of the shame of our distant past, many gay men aren’t very comfortable expressing the hurt that happens in their relationships. Instead, we are very practiced at putting on a smile and once again slipping into the closet of hiding our true feelings. How will you ever be seen and heard if you remain locked behind the doors of that well-fortified closet? And most importantly, how can he love you if he doesn’t have the opportunity to know you?

Nobody takes shame to an art form like gay men. What I noticed most in 2019 was how gay men around me dealt so differently with the question of “what am I doing to help all of this?” For some folks, the magnitude of hopelessness and shame can leave us feeling stupid for trying to do small things, like decreasing single-use plastics. Or, we internalize it and lash out at others trying to do their part (I saw this most during our brief flirtation boycotting Equinox and SoulCycle).

The thing about shame is that it’s really just fear. Nobody takes shame to an art form like gay men and nobody makes dumber decisions than people who are afraid. So this year’s resolutions focus on small ways that we can self-care and ease a bit of that daily stress. 

1. Read The Velvet Rage: Overcoming the Pain of Growing Up Gay in a Straight Man’s World by Alan Downs.

I’m 28 and for the last few months have been seeing a guy I really like. More so than in the past, I feel like this relationship could really be going somewhere serious. The problem is, though the guy is great, his friends are all so immature. They’re obnoxious, loud and over the top. Whenever we go out, all they ever want to talk about is how much they can drink and who they’re shagging. I don’t think they like me much either, and this is starting to cause tension between my boyfriend and I. Should I just say I don’t want to spend time with them and save the awkwardness, or is it worth compromising my free time to keep him happy? I respect that they are his friends but you cant get on with everyone and id rather just be honest and let him go out with them on his own.

Kevin, Lincoln

Dear Attitude Magazine,

I’ve been in a lovely relationship for nearly eight years, and as we approach our forties together, I feel like my relationship with my boyfriend is really strong in a lot of ways. However, in the last few months, he’s started gaining quite a bit of weight (I’d say about two stones) and I’m starting to find him less attractive. I frequently find myself thinking about other people in bed, and whilst I used to think I could never stray, now I’m not so sure. I want to resolve this before I do anything stupid, but I don’t want to hurt his feelings and for him to think I’m totally shallow. I love him and don’t want to see anyone else but I want to find my partner attractive. I would hate to tell him he has to lose weight to be with me. I don’t want to make him feel insecure. What I can do?

Stuart, Sheffield

It was here, a decade ago, I was involved in starting what is known as an “intensive outpatient program” for drug and alcohol addiction across a courtyard from a very popular coffee shop that is frequented by many gay men in town. They come here, as do I, to start their mornings with a warm cup of coffee and lively conversation with friends, new and old. Here, in this little slice of heaven, I sat recently and chatted with a friend I’ve known for more than a decade. He’s a big, handsome guy—the kind of gay man that quickly became the focal point of passerby’s who stumbled upon the two of us chatting away at a corner table. He was oblivious to the attention, as he always is, and we lingered as we caught up on each other’s lives from the past few years. At one point, the discussion turned to the “dating apps” which are commonly used by gay men to find mostly a casual hook-up for sex. My friend said “I’m not on those apps any more. I got tired of being treated like a piece of meat.”

Not long ago, I returned to living in Palm Springs, California where I had once lived ten years earlier. The dramatic desert valley where Palm Springs hugs the base of a rugged mountain that rises from sea level to 9,000 feet has always been a blend of the bizarre and beautiful, an accidental meeting of opposites. In everything from the gay men who settle here (every member of the city council is either gay or lesbian) to the neighboring communities where the staunchly conservative come from all over the globe to play. It is here, in this dialectical desert, I make my home.

Back in 2005, I was driving past a small town in New Mexico—really more of just a truck stop at the intersection of two highways—when my cell phone rang. I answered the call and all I heard before losing the signal as the road descended down from the somewhat dry and baron mesa was “This is Harpo Studios calling”.