I'm back!

بعد غياب أكثر من 6 أشهر .... كل عام والجميع بخير. 

يا متشائم ...

في هذا الجو السياسي الذي تمر فيه المنطقة، وجدت أفكاري تأخذني إلي ذكريات رحلات شرم الشيخ مع العائلة.

أذكر مرة ذهبنا على إحدى الجولات على العربات النارية في الصحراء. وصلنا أنا واخوتي إلى خيمة شعر. منطقة بعيدة كل البعد عن أزمة عمان وناسها. جلسنا لنشرب فنجان من القهوة، وإذ بأبي يفتح موضوع سياسي مع قائد الجولة. شاب مصري بسيط.

كانت هناك في تلك الأوقات قمة عربية مقامة في شرم الشيخ؛ موضوع الحلقة كما يقال. 

"بتحب حسني مبارك؟" سأله أبي. "يالله عاد، ما حد سامع، احكي إلي بقلبك!"

أتذكر نظرة الخوف في عين هذا الرجل، وكأنه رأى شبح. إختار كلماته بكل تأني. وكأن اجابته مراقبة في هذا الخلاء. خوفه كان حقيقياً ولن أنسى ذلك الموقف.

خاصة وها نحن الآن. في وقت تبدو فيه هذه الذكرة من وحي الخيال. بعد أقل من عشرة اعوام، نرى هذا الدكتاتورالذي كان بوسعه إرعاب رجل صادق ونزيه خلف القضبان، يعاقب بالسجن المؤبد. ومصر، أم الدنيا، تحتفل بحلتها الديمقراطية الجديدة!

فلماذا التشائم عند التكلم عن حقوق المثليين؟ لماذا لا نرى اليوم الذي سينظر فيه إلى هذه الصورة الأخرى بندم؟ مثليين في مصر خلف القضبان بسبب فعل لا يؤذي أحد، بسبب مشاعر لا يمكن لأحد التحكم بها أو تغييرها. هذه القضبان نفسها التي بعد 10 سنين حشت الحقير حسني مبارك وعاقبته على جرائمه.

 شيء قائد تلك الجولة في شرم الشيخ لم يحلم بحصوله ولو  بدهر!


فأسألك اليوم، لماذا التشائم؟ عندما يحقق المستحيل أمام أعيننا.

Why should you love me?

This is a post that celebrates the homosexual man, since we get condemned by society enough, here is the other side to the story. 

On why you should love your gay neighbour. 

If you are a woman: Your gay best friend will tell you off when you're about to commit the biggest mistake of your life. Juliet would have lived on after Romeo, if only she had a gay best friend (see video). 

Your gay best friend will also be the one person from the opposite sex who for once doesn't see you as a piece of meat with no brain. He will probably see beyond those two breasts of yours and appreciate you for who you really are. 

If you are a man: Your gay best friend will guide you through your relationships with girls. Give you good valuable advice on what not to do, and how to be romantic. Probably help with your horrible fashion taste too. 

If you are a mother: A gay son would mean avoiding the whole daughter-in-law issues that you risk with a straight son choosing a girl you don't approve of. No fighting and bickering with a كنة in the case of a gay son. You can rest assured, no woman would steal him away from you. 

If you are a father: You can be sure that long after you die, the woman you love (which was hopefully your wife) would have someone to take care of her 24/7. Because that's what us gay people do. We care too much. 

Hope that's been convincing. There is absolutely no reason why you should be hating on us. In fact, after reading this, you should be going around Amman looking for a gay best friend of your own!

I Found The Cure!

... And I couldn't be happier.

I can finally work, study and live without this enormous heavy weight on my shoulders.

I have lived my entire life fighting it and denying myself the right to be happy. But it can all stop now. Because I found the cure to my illness.

How? Well step one in finding that cure was identifying the disease.

I came across a revelation. I have been fighting the wrong thing here the past two decades. My disease wasn't being gay. Show a baby a picture of two guys kissing and he wouldn't bat an eyelid. Because love is natural. We are social animals that are stimulated by positive social contact in all its forms.

Show that baby the picture 10 years later and he's suddenly disgusted by it. He's been inflicted with the true disease here. Homophobia is the problem. Homophobia that is shoved down our throats from the day we acquire the capacity to hate.

We get fed this crap till  we get to our teens, when our natural homosexual feelings rise to the surface, and we wrongly label those as our illness.

I finally got rid of my homophobia. I am now cured, able to continue my life as a normal human being. One that is able to live, love and learn. Can you get rid of yours?

May 17th, International Day Against Homophobia.

A quick question...

Thoughts in the comments section ...

Saturday GIFs

Maybe this should become a weekly thing!

When there is Mansaf for lunch:

When I haven't been to the gym in a while:

When I found out we were getting a fourth prime minister in less than 14 months:

When someone says gays aren't human:

When a girl tries to ask me out:

When I can smell fresh falafel in the morning:

And I'll leave you with this story of a mother explaining homosexuality to her kids, THE HORROR they had to go through. 

Are they better than us?

Homosexuality is fundamentally against our values, isn't it? It's not what our culture is about, right? Being true to myself is a betrayal to the Arab inside me. Or at least that's what haters tell me ... 

But what makes us Arabs different? What's special about our culture? It definitely isn't the Homo(u)s [no pun intended :-)]. 

During a trip to NYC; I would always tell those who wanted to listen about our family values. I would talk about our great hospitality, the way we cherish our neighbours and how we live in an extended family structure, where a second cousin is as close to the heart as one's brother. 

They smile and wish they had the same. "We lost our family values" they sadly confess. They reminisce about the older generation and how it all used to be. We proudly say how we still cherish those values and we nuzzle that warm feeling of self-righteousness.

However, I pause and silently reflect. I come to the conclusion that it's all bullshit. What use are family values when I fear my parents would reject me because of who I am? How are we more closely knit, when I see mothers over there loving their kids regardless, and my mother worrying more about who and if I'm going to marry? 

Parents in our culture struggle with the concept of "unconditional love". I know it's a tough generalisation, but it's closer to the truth than anything. We only love our kids if they turn out the way we imagined them to, with a perfect family of their own so we can die happily and rest in peace, knowing they're having  expectations of their own to force onto their kids. A non-ending hypocritical cycle of 'pretend love'. Bullshit. 

Gay or straight, an overachiever or mentally handicapped; You love your kids period. And I can't help feel jealous of parents in the west, who seem to be able to do just that.

Oh but wait, our culture has stronger family ties ...

مريض؟ لأ بعيد الشر

"مريض"، "مقرف"، "حقير"، "واطي"، "شاذ". أنا شخصياً سمعت حدة ردود الفعل للمثلية في مجتمعاتنا. فجزء بشوفها خطية عقابها الموت، والجزء الآخر بشوفها مرض وعال على المجتمع. بس مشكلتي مش مع المجموعة الأولى، فإلي بشوفها خطية وبعمل حاله عريف نيابتاً عن الله لازم يراجع نفسه و ينظر إلى الخشبة إلي في عينه أول (على مقولة سيدنا عيسى عليه السلام). مشكلتي مع المجموعة إلي بتشوف المثلية كمرض، وبناءً على ذلك، تدعم الهومو فوبيا إلي في مجتمعاتنا. 

الأمراض كثيرة، وكلنا منعرف عنها. من السرطان لأمراض القلب ومروراً في الإكتئاب والأمراض النفسية الأخرى. بس شو بتكون ردة فعلك إنت، لو شفت واحد ببهدل في مريض سرطان عشان حالته؟ إذا رأيك إنه المثلية مرض، فمش من المنطق انك تساند المريض وتوقف معه؟ طيبة الإنسان بتطلب منا إنه نساند بعض، مش نطفس أخونا الإنسان إذا حاول التعبير عن نفسه. 

غير عن كل هالحكي، الأمراض وعلاجاتها تعرف من خلال دراسات و بحوثات كبيرة. لما شركة أدوية تنتج علاج جديد، بكون وراء هذا العلاج دراسة تثبت فعاليته. ولكن بيجيلك واحد على تويتر بحكي "روح عالج نفسك من مرضك يا لوطي" الجمله طبعاً سهل تنحكى، ولكن في الحقيقة، جمعية الدكاترة النفسية في أمريكا (دولة تقود التطور في علم الطب) ازالة تصنيف المثلية من الأمراض النفسية، و اضافت أنه محاولة تغيير الميول الجنسي مضرة لصحة العقل وتؤدي إلى أمراض نفسية كالإكتئاب والحصر. لا يوجد علاج للمثلية. لش؟ لأنها مش مرض. مش مقتنع، أدخل كلية طب وإبدأ دراسة عشان تقنعني.

الأسبوع الماضي طبيب نفسي في أمريكا، روبرت سبيتزر، إعتذر نيابةً عن كل إلي تأثروا من دراسة نشرها في 2001. الدراسة كانت الوحيده إلي ذكرت إنه الميول الجنسي يمكن تغييره إذا أصر الواحد وإلتزم في جهوده. إعترف ناشر هذه الدراسة بإنه النتائج كانت غير دقيقة وأنه محاولة كبت هذه المشاعر غير مجدية ومضرة. 

عقبال ما يقتنع مجتمعنا ويحاول تقبل افراده. 

Photo from shirtlessboys.com*

Allah loves me, yes I know!

Yes he does. And I love him. You CAN be religious and gay. People will always try and put us down, but that doesn't matter.

الله خالق السموات والأرض أكبر من حكي إبن الجيران. الله أكبر من تفاهة الإمام أو الخوري في مسجد أو كنيسة الحارة. 

المثليين جميعاً نعلم بأن هذه المشاعر  لم نختارها. هي مشاعر كانت تراود البعض منا منذ الطفولة.

الله لا يخطئ. وعندما أنظر إلى هذه الصورة لمجرة درب التبانة, أرى وضوح تلك الجملة. أنا جزء من هذا الكون العظيم الذي خلقه الله. هذا الكون الذي يقزم كره إبن الجيران للمثليين، يقزم التكبر الذي يوارد بعض الناس عندما يحقدون على من هم مثلي.

أنا ذرة في هذا الكون الواسع، ومحبتي وشغفي للحياة يجعلاني افضل من من يحاول تدميري، أفضل من من يحاول أن يكرهني في نفسي . 

Born this way!

Sorry for not blogging in a while. I've been immersed in my thoughts lately. So much things I want to say but can't get my head round them to make them comprehensible!

For now, I'll leave you with this:

"I'm beautiful in my way, Cause God makes no mistakes, I'm on the right track baby, I was born this way"

Yes I'm quoting Lady Gaga. Now leave me alone.

Photo source: shirtlessboys.tumblr.com

فاسد مثلي؟

على تويتر اتحدث دائمأ عن حقوق المثليين. ولكن أحياناً أجد نفسي غارقاً في التفكير في معنى هذه الحقوق. جواب منطقي تتفق عليه المنظمات الدولية هو حق الإنسان لحياة كريمة. ولكن ماذا تعني هذه العبارة التي كثيراً ما تتداولها الصحف و المحطات الاخباريه؟ أجد أن مع كثر إستعمالها، للأسف، قد فقدت معناها. ولكن نعم لي حق لحياة كريمة. 

منذ أول دقيقة استيقظ فيها، وأنا خائف على مستقبلي. لا أدري ماذا يحمله لي. هل سينتهي بي المطاف في زواج مدبر، أدمر فيه إمرأة، لها أيضاً حقها في حياة كريمة وزوج يحبها ويجدها مثيرة؟ أرفض هذه الفكرة جملة وتفصيلاً. ولكن الأعذار التي يمكن استخدمها للتهرب من الزواج تتقلص مع مرور الوقت. عاجلاً أم آجلاً، سأجد نفسي في موقف علي شرحه لأهلي وعائلتي.

أكثر ما أكره هو أن هذه الاسئله والسيناريوهات طغت حتى على صلواتي. أكره أن تخلف هذا المجتمع قد أثر على علاقتي مع خالق هذا الكون. حتى حقي في إيماني قد سلب مني.

كابوس أعيشه كل يوم. إلى ساعات الليل المتأخرة، أتقلب في فراشي  بحثاً عن صورة لمستقبل ومجتمع يتقبل وجودي. أتأمل بأن مدونة الكترونيه بعنوان "مثلي أردني" سوف تقلب مجتمعي رأساً على عقب. أحاول طلي كابوسي الأسود بريشة حلم بيضاء، لعل الظلام يتفشى.

يتهم الناس بأن من مثلي من المثليين فاسدون في هذا المجتمع. وعندها ابتسم، فأتذكر عناوين عمون وسرايا. الفاسدون في البلاد نهبوا وطن، ولكن المجتمع لا يزال يوجه أصابع الإتهام إلى مواطنون صالحون، همومهم مثل أي شخص آخر. أكبر ذنب ارتكبناه هو شعور لا نستطيع السيطرة عليه. جزء منا لا نستطيع تغييره. 

يا ترى هل يطارد هذا الأرق والشعور بالذنب 'حرامية البلد' كما يطاردني أنا؟ يا ترى هل سيستيقظ أخي الأردني ويتفهم بأني "مثلي مثلك" لكن الفرق الوحيد بأني مثلي؟

تركنا حق الحياة لسارقي هذا الوطن، ولا حياة لمن ينادي. 

The Mind and Change

Big Jack was looking into the window

The family was having dinner inside

They had no idea he was watching them

Being a cat is tiring, Jack thought

What did you notice when you were reading that short piece? You probably found that you continuously updated the view you had of the scene in your mind's eye. At first it was an image of a man, perhaps, watching a family having dinner. You might have changed your ideas about the intentions of the man when you found out the family didn't know he was there. Only for the whole scene to be toppled over its head, and you discover Jack is actually a harmless cat on the window sill. 

This is a tiny example on how our mind is continuously at work, 'behind the scenes', trying to make sense of the world. 

In any given moment, we're always gathering details about the present moment, and we continuously look for even more details about those details. We try to construct a mental image of what's around us and we compare it to things that happened in the past, and then project it onto possible scenarios in the future. The mind is truly an amazing thing.

But this worries me too. Because the way I see it, if I do come out to a friend, that little extra detail about who I am will play a major role in toppling his mental image of me. He might be supportive, but he might not be. Who am I to deconstruct years and years of the social homophobia my friends and family have been exposed to? I know I am struggling to get over it myself.

On why I love the Internet

Not only does the internet allow me to post my stories (transcending social taboos and under the cover of anonymity), it also allows for human imagination and creativity to go wild. Take a look at this.

So Angelina Jolie's dress in the Oscars revealed pretty much the whole of her right leg; and boy she was proud of it. She kept poking that leg out of the dress EVERY SINGLE TIME she had her picture taken. It became a running joke during the ceremony (being copied by Jim Rash when accepting his award).

'The Internet' showed no mercy and Angelina's 'leg bomb' went viral. Here's a a selection of the coolest 15 pictures that came out of this. This is a clear example on how SOPA would have ruined the internet. If put through, THIS would never have happened. Thank God that bill wasn't passed.

PS. I know this has nothing to do with homosexuality, but I guess gay people can have a sense of humour too. And if a leg gets its own twitter account in our day and age, a gay Jordanian man deserves one too.

Happy Leap Day

It's February the 29th! And with it, I'm taking a leap of faith that things will change. A leap of faith that 20 years down the line I will be happy, that I will still want to see more of my life.

Yesterday was a downer for me. I signed up for a Jordanian forum called mahjoob.com. In it people get to discuss everything standard Jordanians go through. From political views on the Arab spring, to simply ranting about a mishap on public transport.

I tried to share my story and discuss the elephant in the room; homosexuality in our region. I thought it started well, but less than a day in, I was banned. Banned for being myself and banned for asking for social acceptance.

I was hopeless; realising that I am fighting a colossal mountain, it also left me feeling scared and disgruntled. It was a taster of my worst nightmare; shunned from my own society for being me.

I need the leap of faith, that things will change. It's all what I got.

HappYness

The pursuit of happyness. That movie really made me think. For those of you who haven't seen it, it's basically a true story of this guy longing to feel happy. Without ruining too much of it, him and his kid end up on the streets of San Francisco. Rushing from one homeless shelter to another; one night, they  resort to sleeping in a public toilet at a subway station. Realising that he has hit rock bottom, we see him trying to hold back the tears with the son sleeping in his lap. A very emotional scene.

How does that relate to my situation, you ask? I'm not saying that I have it as bad as a homeless man. Maybe in some way the movie made me realise how bad things could be. At least I have a bed I go home to every night; food pretty much guaranteed on the table; friends I could trust, and a family whom, despite not knowing my secret, I will always love. Things could be much worse I remind myself. A quick glance at Al-Jazeera's hourly news update and events in Homs make that very clear. Things could be much worse.

But the movie gave me insight into the struggle a class of society goes through daily. A struggle I completely dismissed every time I walked by a homeless dude. We drive past them, and whether at a traffic light or outside a mosque, we silently judge them. We judge them for their choices (?) that brought them to where they are now. As if they purposely decided to end up in that situation.; dirty, sad and exhausted. Was that the future they had in mind for themselves as kids?

I never understood why we do that. Why do we judge them? What part of human nature allows for such inhumane thoughts to come to our heads? Is it the sense of superiority it gives us? Their failure somehow highlighting what we've accomplished in our lives, and we thus feel better? We forget that we are all humans pursuing happiness. Wanting to feel better.

They do say it gets better, however I can't help but feel that people will look at my sexuality and feed off my failure. I failed to fit into the social norm of our homophobic society in the same way that homeless person failed when life threw its worse at him and took all what he's got. 

We get so involved in pursuing our own happiness that sometimes we forget we have the keys to the happiness of others. Whether that key is securing a man's lunch for the day or simply giving another the much needed social acceptance, we forget. And we ride each others' fears and feed off the anxieties. We try and pull each other down, hoping that this would maybe get us a little bit closer to the top. 

Weird ass monument on the 7th circle - using monument

in the loosest sense of the word here

A very cynical view of our society, I know. But I even think that's what the weird monument on the seventh circle represents. They say it shows people striving for education, But I see people fighting over happiness; forgetting it could be shared. Forgetting we can all bloody have it if we stopped stepping on each other's heads to get to it. Forgetting that getting to the the top means nothing when you're there all by yourself. 

... Or maybe it's just the mood I'm in when I'm stuck in traffic over there. 

First Post

I've been meaning to start this blog for a while now. The time to get my act together and write this first post has come.

The name is Samir. I've always found names interesting. Labels used to acknowledge the fact that we are separate human beings. Human beings with different life stories, different goals and different ambitions. A name is such an integral part of who you are, yet it is rarely chosen. You get assigned a name by your parents, you grow up and and you come to accept it and introduce yourself by it; The name is Samir, whether I like it or not.

Here I am, coming to accept yet another thing about myself that I didn't choose. From the title of the blog you probably already guessed what I'm referring to.

I am gay. There, I said it.

Throughout my teenage years, that thought would haunt me. My heart would sink every time it made its way to the surface. I would ignore it. No way! I'd think. It can't happen to me. Of course, I knew other people could be gay. But me? That's just silly.

I would shove that thought back into deep, dark waters. In a place from which there was no return. However, the beast kept coming back. And as if nourished by the neglect, it came back stronger every time. It would start to consume more and more of my concentration.

"Are you okay?", my mother would ask. Their maternal instinct tells them that something is up.

"Yeah, I'm fine". That's a thing I could never tell her.

Things kept getting worse over the years. I was going round in circles in my head, it certainly wasn't healthy;

I'm gay ... Or am I? ... I can't be! ... But I'm attracted to men. Ya rabbi, I must be ... My life is over ... what if I'm not though. Think hard of a girl you're attracted to Samir, there must be one ....think ... THINK ...  Oh Tamara, that girl from lectures ... She's pretty, I guess. She has a nice slim body, That's nice no? ... Those curves would be nice to touch, I guess. Come on... Get hard. you can do it! Prove to yourself you're straight... prove to yourself that you're normal

It's easy to see how that would be mentally draining. It was exhausting!

It took time to finally admit that it was a losing battle. I've been denying myself the right to be who I am. I was pretending to be someone I'm not.

الطبع غلب التطبع

That's what my culture always taught me. You can never be untrue to your 'nature', because at the end of the day nature wins. For years I was hiding from myself. Well not anymore.

I am gay, whether I like it or not.