Discovering the Gay Banker from London

I can't believe it's October. October 2012. Last year, it was in October that a simple conversation over dinner with a guy named R, ignited my decision to come to terms with my homosexuality. It's not like I never knew all along, but to finally reach a point where you hear yourself say: "Gosh. I, am gay. Gay. ME." And then realise that this is not a game, but a life-altering lottery that has happened to you. A bad one.

This was also after my first daunting attempt in getting myself to walk into a gay bar. For weeks, my days were gloomy and grey. They were filled with depressed feelings, tears of sorrow, tears of frustration, tears of fear. I didn't know how to handle it all. My heart just felt so blocked, so compressed and on the verge of distortion in a hermetically pressurised tank. Everything felt so low. I asked myself one very important question: "What now?"

I felt so defeated and alone. Everybody around me is not gay, how can they understand? Having absolutely no one or no where to turn, I reached for Google. In the search bar, I typed every key word I could think of: gay what to do, am I gay?, think I'm gay, gay depressed, gay scared, gay in closet, gay coming-out. The most memorable entry was "gay and invisible" because that was exactly how I felt. Look what came out of it.

Typing those key words in the search bar and scrolling through the search results still instilled an indescribable sense of guilt and shame. It was eating me up slowly from the inside as these were entries I was previously too afraid to confront. I guess I just wasn't ready. And even though I was all alone in the apartment with my computer, I would instinctively look behind my back just to see if anybody was there. It felt like something was watching me when it was indeed just unreasonable self-conjured guilt. That soul-corroding feeling of being consumed by my own shame and fear, I'll never forget it.

[  GB, The Gay Banker from London  ]

Then, by chance or by fate, I stumbled upon an enlightening blog called the Gay Banker. I read a couple of entries and was instantly engrossed. I spent the next few weeks trawling through the 6 year archives of his blog, post by post. It provided me with tremendous insights into the interesting life of an advanced gay man, and how unbelievably positive, not to mention successful one can turn out to be. It was my only source of comfort and I wouldn't do anything else except read his blog because it kept me going inside.

Reading the Gay Banker was kind of like reading a gay guide book that spoke to me so much. It opened me up in ways I never thought would have been possible. Coming from an extremely sheltered background, I felt a sense of conflict with who I thought I was and who I now have to be. It feels very liberating on one hand, but also hard to digest on the other.

It was also from his blog that I learnt about the fundamental rules and basic practices of the gay world. Kind of like going back to school. I was exposed to terms I never even knew existed such as: eye-contact, cruising, sexual encounters, open relationships, civil-partnership, gay saunas, online cruising etc, along with their practical usages.

The interesting posts and constant encouraging positivity on his blog kept reinforcing the hope and idea in my head that there really was more to being gay than being at the bottom of the world. "Sure. There's always more that happens for other guys, but never for you!", goes my inner voice.

Feeling the need to talk to him, I started drafting a couple of long emails. However, I didn't know where to begin or what to tell him. How can words describe this inexplicable phase I was going through. All I know is that I ended up altering and rewriting many versions of the letter but never got around to sending it. The paragraphs were never ending as it could never fully contain what I wanted to convey.

And considering the large amount of emails he get from young gay guys who are probably struggling through similar situations, thought I'd save my chance of writing to him for another occasion in the future when I'm more developed and really needed his words of wisdom. For now, I should just figure out how to walk down this path on my own. Even if it means limping and stumbling my way through.

Putting my truckload of thoughts and emotions into words was both mentally draining and emotionally tedious. But seeing these intangible sentiments that can only be felt in body and in mind, in physical writing, has never felt so therapeutic as it helped worked out many thoughts. This was when it hit me that I was going to need an organised outlet to document not just what I wanted to tell The Gay Banker, but also everything that I was going through in life and about life.

I do keep track of the practical advices he gives his readers, particularly younger gay guys and sometimes try to apply them to myself. Being in this crucial period of discovery, I'm too good of an experimentation material to waste. Hence, a journal of deep documentation has never been more useful in helping me grow and understand life. In my own way and through my own eyes.

London is a city of 8 million people, the world in one. While riding the tube or walking on the streets, I couldn't stop thinking about GB and was taking note of every single guy within my field of vision, wondering if he and I could have walked past each other or crossed paths unknowingly. I don't know what my fate with London holds, or if I'm ever meant to be a Londoner again in my lifetime. But I'm always looking forward to the next opportunity to go back.

The Gay Banker is somebody who has indirectly changed my life. And even though he might not know I exist, but I'd like the chance to meet him for real one day, in London or wherever fate might bring us both so I could sincerely take him out to lunch or dinner, and thank the man himself. And in the spirit of once again experimenting with the Law of Attraction through this blog...

"I will meet The Gay Banker."