The online diary of a gay courtesan.

Yesterday I blogged about the differentiation in my mind between pride and arrogance. Today I am going to focus on how confusing the two affects my self-esteem. Hopefully working this out in words will help me understand how to find better balance and grace.

It’s frustrating to me when I try to pay someone a compliment, and they won’t accept it. I don’t feel obliged to flatter people, as it is a compliment given for selfish reasons. Since I don’t dole out petty affirmations, when I say something nice to someone, I mean it. And it makes me uncomfortable or annoyed when the person/people in question can’t simply be gracious and say “Thank you.”

So… I wonder if that answers my question before I even ask it.

The point was made to me that there really isn’t a question of accepting/absorbing compliments and affirmations, since getting them at all is itself the compliment. Many people don’t get any, so how can I be so ungrateful as to discard friendly gestures and comments? With this in mind, I feel like the proverbial swine before whom pearls are cast. It really is unkind not to accept random acts of love and beauty.

And yet, there are two obstacles in my head: 1) I don’t want others to perceive me as being arrogant and 2) if I don’t believe the compliment, it makes me either wonder what the person’s motive is, or I immediately look for something negative to cancel the compliment out. Something about our culture that really pisses me off is that on the one hand everyone is expected to be an independent, self-sufficient individual, but on the other hand martyrs are made into saints.

If I accept my own positive qualities and become confident, well, then people knock me down for being too full of myself. But once I’m knocked down people then build me back up. I mean… Whuh?? I honestly don’t get it, and this confusion between pride and arrogance seems to make most people simply throw their hands in the air and say, “I’m average, and that’s all I need.” Bullshit! Each person on this planet should be allowed and encouraged to celebrate his own goodness and the strengths of others without fear of being emotionally neutered.

That’s just the way it is. But it shouldn’t be.

This is going to be a gradual shift, I know this already. But I think that a first step I can make, which won’t necessarily be legible to anyone else, is to simply not look for a fault to balance a strength. “You have/are (insert compliment)” requires only a “Thank you” on the outside and a moment of gratitude on the inside. And I also think I want to compliment myself more. In fact, I think I’m going to ask myself out on date, since I’m so fucking fabulous. My friend Annie engaged herself. I may have to consider that as well (do I have to move to Connecticut or Massachusetts for it to be legal?).

We live in a world that is full of people who want something from us. That has lots of possibilities. Some people seek to use us for their various selfish purposes, or simply need a rubber doll with a pulse. Others want to drain us of our energy, or to prop themselves up higher by standing on our shoulders. But… There are those who want to cull happiness and success in us, because it gratifies them to help. And there are others who genuinely admire our strengths, or the ways in which we best our challenges.

All of this up and down with interacting with various beings can break our egos. If self-esteem is like a malleable piece of plastic, then that means with enough bending back and forth it can eventually snap. I know only a few people whom I believe when they say, “I like myself. Alot.” I admire them very much. I think I am beginning to internally embrace a concept that I articulated for myself quite a long time ago: My differentiation between pride and arrogance. On a logical level it makes sense to me, but until now I’m not sure I’ve been ready to apply it.

Put simply, I believe that there is a very distinct difference between being proud and being arrogant. When someone says to you in a negative tone, “Well, that sounded proud!” in my mind what they should have said is, “Well, that sounded arrogant!” And here is why I believe the two should be separated, not connected or juxstaposed on top of each other:

Pride is self love based on truth, and arrogance is self love based on nothing.

My challenge is to accept that which is true about myself, regardless of whether or not it is good/bad, right/wrong, etc. If I know something to be true about me, and I appreciate it, then it is my duty to be proud of that strength/attribute/goodness. Conversely, if I know something to be true, and I am ashamed of it, then it is my duty to make steps towards growth in this area of weakness/difficiency/negativity. The problem with arrogance is that it creates a false strength of weakness, generates lies that have to be forcefully propped up, and then uses the insecurity within the lies as a weapon against others.

I am having this discussion with myself, because tomorrow I want to discuss the problems I have had in accepting compliments and affirmations. After some very good long talks with a beautiful friend, and after an hour-long rant about my perfection from my mother (thank the Goddess for mothers! HA!), I woke up this morning, and for a flash I had a moment of pure acceptance: I am fucking fabulous! It passed, but it’s progress, right? Tomorrow I want to talk about the way the confusion between pride and arrogance stops me from seeing myself as I am (no matter how much others say they see something else in me).

There are thousands of types of touch. But, for me, they break down into three overarching categories: Subtractive, Neutral, and Additive. If you are going to be an entertainer, you have to be okay with being touched. It’s simply part of the job (unless you’re in one of those bizarre U.S. states where the dancer performs in the middle of a cage/stage with an enclosement of chicken wire that stands as a barracade five feet between the dancer and the patons – in those places the tips are passed through the spaces of the chicken wire, and the dancer can’t collect them until the patron steps back away from the barrier). However, it’s wise to understand that you’re going to need to find balance in being touched. The highest priority: Make sure that your personal boundaries and the laws for your area are both being respected. It’s important to note that your perception of the same touch will be different from moment to moment, depending on a host of circumstances.

Subtractive Touch

When you are touched in such a manner that it costs you more than the tip you are gaining, you are losing something within yourself. You will know Subtractive Touch almost immediately. It makes you feel uncomfortable, ashamed, distressed, or humiliated. Perhaps it causes you pain as well. Possibly worse: It makes you feel absolutely “nothing” (but not in a neutral manner). When all is said and done, Subtractive Touch makes you feel less than. I would guess that approximately 10 percent of the touching I experience in an average night is Subtractive. Some nights are better, others are worse. Generally, these touches get temporarily balanced out by the preponderance of Neutral Touch and the covalent Additive Touch. Real problems can come up pretty fast on the nights when this isn’t the case.

Neutral Touch

In a rough estimate, I would say 80 percent of the touches in an evening are Neutral: They do not please or offend me. They require only as much time and attention as the value of the tip they entail. And they are completed without any regret or celebration. They simply are what they are: A transaction. Here are your onion rings, that will be $1.79. The problem with Neutral Touch is that it is repetitive. It is connected to the largest part of your earnings, which is good, but it is also numbing, which is bad.

It is important to find ways to rejeuvenate your senses throughout your shift, so that you do not become zombie-like. Once at Swinging Richards a patron had his hand cupping my testicles for a good 60 seconds or more while we were talking about politics before I realized it was happening: “Your hand is on my balls.” “Yep.” “How long has it been there?” “Oh, nearing a minute, I suppose.” “Wow… You are going to tip me eventually, right?” (One of the stupidest dollars I ever earned. LOL… click dont-touch-those for a funny wav file: NOT SAFE FOR WORK) That’s a good example of what not to allow Neutral Touch to become. In most all instances, however, Neutral Touch is polite, discreet, respectful, and superficially flattering. It can teeter over into Negative if not properly managed.

Additive Touch

This is absolutely essential. You really must experience enough Additive Touch to completely balance the Subtractive and to enliven the Neutral. As with Subtractive, about 10 percent of the touch I experience in a shift makes me feel attractive, strong, genuinely appreciated, and complemented beyond simple flattery. It is important to note, however, that if you do not get enough restoration while at work, you really must find a means to get it from some other source.

I will admit it candidly: My feelings get hurt very easily. I am not thick-skinned. I need more than 10 percent Additive Touch to renew me. I also workout 2-4 times each week for 45-75 minutes/session. I don’t exercise alot, but I exercise intensely. These two issues together mean that I can reasonably “justify” a particular “splurge” that I am nearly absolutely committed to: I get a 60/120-minute massage once a week from my friend Ron, who has one of the most gifted healing touches I’ve ever experienced.

There are other types of Additive Touch. If you have a lover or someone whom you trust, let that person put hands on you in a non-sexual but intimate manner. Perhaps they will let you lay back, and will simply stroke your face with the backs of their fingers while you listen to soft music? Or maybe they put one hand over your heart and another over your navel with essential oils? It is important to allow yourself to experience this type of healing, so that your body/mind/heart/soul does not connect all physical contact to something sexual (which is completely inaccurate/inapproptiate in most instances outside of your shift).

Additive Touch puts gas in your tank, so to speak. It airs out your house. Think of whatever Additive Touch you get beyond work as a vitamin that nourishes you. If the hundreds or thousands of touches you experience in a week/weekend are the repetitions and sets you do at the gym, then the massage/friendly hand holding/hugs from Mom that you take in during the off hours is the supplement that feeds your system.

A final suggestion, for your Additive Touch therapy: When you do have sex, try to make it as organic (but safe), passionate, and emotionally invested (even if only temporarily) as possible. You don’t want to hurt someone else in the process of healing yourself, so if necessary make it clear that although the sex you are about to have may rupture the time-space continuum, it isn’t anything that it isn’t. You don’t want to lead someone down the wrong path if you aren’t feeling residually more than you are momentarily, but you also do not want your entire sexuality to devolve into a series of automatic, mechical actions. Live succulently!

In all honesty, most women at clubs ignore me completely: I’m shorter than most dancers, I’m nowhere near as aggressive or shadowy (which girls at male strip clubs seem to want more than the nice guys they can see anytime at home), and I make no secret of the fact that I’m gay. I understand completely why I would be invisible to most women at a strip club – there’s really no fantasy that they might seduce me. But every once in a while I will inadvertently charm the ladies. This is becoming more common as I gain muscle mass (because I’ve gradually, over the last several months, become more and more mistaken for heterosexual – it happened three times Friday night and twice on Saturday). Passing for straight isn’t my goal or my priority, but it can be fun playing with people’s expectations, now that presumption doesn’t sit at 100 percent.

There were three women sitting at the bar. Everything I did titillated them. I actually enjoyed this, because I absolutely love women. When I finally came around to them, so that they could talk to me and tip me, they were lovely. Once I was actually there in front of them, two of the three were reluctant to touch me at first. It was taboo, I suppose. The married one had no trouble at all. I thought this was especially marvelous. They liked my ass, biceps, and abs in particular.

“Oh my God! You make me want to go home and fuck my husband!”

“Well… that’s my job.” (I didn’t really know how to respond to this, since I don’t get a chance to chat with girls much at work.)

“It’s too bad you don’t like me.”

“I do like you!”

“It’s too bad you don’t want to fuck me.” (Aha! They do know I’m gay!)

“Susan, I will respect you more than any man you will ever meet.” (Said very coyly with a wink as I kissed her hand.)

“Oh, damn… Respect me some other time!”

I love my work.

It occurred to me, after reflecting some about my experience, at that party from last week, that there is a Jekyll & Hyde phenomenon lurking in many club patrons, gay men in particular. It also occurred to me that there is a day & night phenomenon that I want to explore for a few moments. What follows isn’t researched or cited – it’s simply my dialogue with myself about the observations I have about the patrons who disturb me most (keeping in mind throughout that what I will be saying doesn’t apply to ALL people, but is presented as over-simplified generalizations).

People associate metaphoric values to light/dark and day/night, conflating them with good/bad. I have a hypothesis: People almost seem to have it coded into their socializing DNA traits to act rowdy, or to allow their “darker” sides to come out at night. It’s too easy to say that Night is Dark, and thus people let their destructive natures blossom under the moonlight (like lillies of death, I suppose), as if night/dark is the very source of this “bad.”

I think there is a practical connection that goes way back. Without electricity and artificial lighting, your work day effectively ends when the sun goes down. Ergo, your most productive (i.e. work related) activities happen in the light. Once it’s night and you can no longer really do much, it makes sense that people would socialize at night around fires and dance, mingle, or drink. Same with the winter in general: If it’s too dark and cold to farm your land or do any work, then it is an obvious time of year to pack full of festivals and holidays in order to pass the time: Hours not devoted to work or sleep end up becoming hours devoted to play or relaxation.

What if, over the course of thousands of years, we have simply been bred to associate day with respectability and night with scandal? If you follow that line of thought, then in a religious culture that values toil above pleasure (rather than in balance with it), everything done at night becomes frivilous (and therefore non-, un-, or anti-”good”) by comparison. Everything you wouldn’t want people to see you doing, you do at night, under the cloak of darkness where you can hope for some modicum of anonymity. Night becomes a place to hide your shame or guilt.

In this way, all around the world, good, productive people rise and shine to do their respectable work. For a good portion of them there is an attitude that anything of Night must be myseterious, evil, salacious, dangerous, or immoral, since it is the time when productive people are worn out and go to bed. Night is the time of the unseen/unseeable. It is the time when those with something to hide emerge, like monsters out of nightmares.

If you look at my description of that party, it was attended by “upstanding professionals” who mostly happened to be older white, gay gentlemen. This is where the Jekyll & Hyde amongst patrons comes in. Given the way they were acting like rutting pigs at a trough, and given the wild (in some instances dangerous) looks their eyes, and given their total abandonment of all social decorum, exactly what about them should have spoken to their being doctors, lawyers, architects, etc.? How would I, or anyone else who doesn’t know them, ever guess that these grasping, slobbering troglodytes were “upstanding professionals?” If someone is an “upstanding professional,” shouldn’t that define who they are away from work as well? (I can hear it now: “I’m not an upstanding professional, but I play one from 9-5.”)

I don’t understand this dichotomy. I am the same person at night that I am all day long. I am more polite at work than I would be at my house, but I don’t resemble Janus, looking in two directions with every passing moment. I don’t divorce my noctural self from my diurnal self. I am always me. I don’t understand the outright hypocrisy of wearing two diametrically opposed masks. Which is the real you? Do you even know? Are both of them you, or does one compensate for the other? Are neither of them you, and you simply have no idea who you even are? If you, like most people I know, attach part of your identity to your profession, then what does it say about you that this identity slides away so readily when the illumination dims?

Let me be frank: There are many wonderful patrons who act just as civil at the club as they do at the grocery strore. But there is also a sizeable lot who frighten me: When I bump into them during the day, they scurry from my presence, as if I am something toxic or tainted (when usually it is I who should be trying to get away from them). At night they come slinking back with flattering apologies and small tips, bribing me to forget they were espied pretending to be respectable in some other place and time. I might play along more completely, if the dollar earned so respectably wasn’t so disrespectably tucked under my perineum with a lingering grope and a lecherous wink. When Hyde grins at me with my privates in his palm, I simply laugh inside and wonder where the doctor/lawyer/ teacher/politician/engineer is hiding.

The sun is going to rise soon… did you forget that? Or are you ignoring it on purpose? Who is the “upstanding professional” in this scenario? Is there one? The patrons I like and respect the most are not necessarily the ones who give me the most money, but the ones who give me the most hope that I am right in thinking that people, by and large, really are the ”upstanding professionals” they seem to be.