by Pierre Le Roux
With my thirty something birthday coming up (a queer never reveals his true age after 30) in just over a month I took some time to sit back and reflect on my life. After all I am now closer to forty than I am to twenty. And isn’t it strange how different we view life while you are in your twenties than how you view life when you are in your thirties? As I measured how my life has changed since I was 20 and how different it is now than what I expected, I came to ask myself a shocking question – Have I become a Stepford Fag?
Stepford Fags are described in the urban dictionary as “a gay couple who are nice, sexless and nonthreatening. Typically they live in the suburbs, have an immaculate house and yard and don’t scare the neighbors while they are in fact just as much a slave to heterosexual establishment as everyone else.”
While in my twenties I could have been described as a social butterfly. Most nights I partied the night away and knew all the regulars at all the night clubs by name. As my long suffering husband and I started dating (shortly before my 21st birthday) all the club celebs came to know us as a couple rather than individuals. It was bound to happens that way as my husband and I share the same name. We became friends with the elite gay socialites, at the time, and became regular fixtures at all the popular LGBT events. In between my busy social schedule I managed to finish my studies and started working. However, during this time my social life gained priority and my studies and worked was seen only as a time filler until the next party.
I went to class and later to work with very little sleep, sometimes a hangover and the odd glittery souvenir of the previous night’s party stuck in my hair. On one occasion I showed up for work minus one eyebrow because at the previous night’s strip show at the club the flame throwing stripper scorched it off. My husband and I also thought it funny to wear matching outfits to clubs, which in retrospect was silly not only because it’s such a cliché thing to do but I mean really wasn’t it bad enough that we share the same name? As the years passed our regular feature on the nightclub circuit became less frequent as work demands and responsibility increased and we reduced our social excursions to weekends.
Being young, wild, attractive and popular I didn’t give much thought to the future – being that age I thought I would stay young, pretty and thin forever. Never once did I consider getting married as I was of the firm belief that it was something straight people did to make it more difficult for them to split up. Being in a happy and committed relationship and having moved in together I was quite content with the way things were. We didn’t need a contract so ensure our relationship would last! Apart from marriage the house with the white picket fence, dogs, cats and children was as frightening to me as a cheesecake to an anorexic. I was happy, thin, in a relationship with the man I loved and surrounded with glitter balls, strobe lights, music, drag queens and hot young guys. What more does a young gay man want?
During my late twenties my metabolism decided it would skip a few years ahead and slowed down. As the pounds started packing on and my infamous leather pants and tight, skimpy shirts started to take strain to the point of me no longer being able to squeeze into them, it was time for them to be retired. The late nights at clubs over the weekends also showed signs of taking its toll and became less frequent. Before I knew it my social butterfly days were numbered as my priorities had shifted just like my weight.
The process was so gradual one and it happened without any distinct detection. What seemed important and satisfactory to me a few years ago no longer had the same appeal. More time was spent focusing on my career. Night clubs was replaced with dinner parties and movies with friends and quiet evenings at home. However, we still go clubbing when we have the time. My relationship had evolved to a more mature level and friendships deepened beyond superficiality and hedonistic interests.When gay marriage was legalized my husband and I didn’t give it a second thought and tied the knot literally a few weeks later. My twenty something view of marriage was replaced: I now had a more mature view and understood that marriage was more than just a contract that would cost you half of everything you owned if you want to get out of it. The house with the white picket fence now also drew my attention and became a reality. The twenty year old finally grew up.
I transformed from a club hopping shooter downing socialite to a career driven married man. Does this now mean I become a Stepford Fag? As per the definition I would have to say Yes and No. Yes, we are a nice couple, live in the suburbs, have an immaculate home and yard and we don’t scare the neighbors (on purpose that is). However, we most certainly aren’t sexless (of that we have quite enough) and are not slaves to heterosexual establishment nor do we want to imitate it. We are who we are; some people might still find this threatening and not approve but I say the hell with them. So if I am considered a Stepford Fag, I am very proud to be one and highly recommend it. All fairies have to grow up some time!
Till next time.