(Originally Published on The Huffington Post on 4/18/2012)

I went to see filmmaker Lee Hirsch‘s new documentary, Bully, this past weekend, and even now, days later, I still find myself deeply affected. When I say that, I’m speaking not so much about the film (although it was beautifully made and completely moving) but to the extreme heartache I have felt since watching it. I started sobbing about 30 seconds into the movie and didn’t really stop until the following morning. I cried for the parents who have lost their children to bullying, I cried for the bullied subjects in the film, and I cried for myself, having gone through an amplified version of all of this years ago.

Yesterday, after reading reports of yet another 14-year-old queer kid being bullied to death in America, this time in Iowa, the feeling turned once again from sadness to anger. My own growing-up-gay-in-the-Midwest story reads like some sort of fucked-up textbook for how LGBT kids come into the world, how we maneuver through, and often how we go out. The torture I suffered at the hands of my peers as a closeted child and then as an out teenager is one that is shared by many in the community. In reality I was quite lucky to have survived back then, although I almost didn’t survive the years that followed.

I took in violence as a young man like a sponge takes up water. It came in many forms, but I always did the same thing with it: I absorbed it and made it part of me, every mean thing anyone ever called me believed, every punch thrown my way shaped into my being. I spent years reacting to other people’s hate in a variety of colorful ways, living out the disappointment of everyone who had ever known me in real time. I was driven by uncontrollable rage, crippling fear, and a sense of mourning for the person everyone else thought I should be but whom I knew I would never become. Over time I grew used to the abuse, said goodbye to my sweetness, and let the violence take me over.

Even as an adult I am still dealing with this very old idea about myself and a world that says that I am nothing; that I somehow deserve to taste blood in my mouth, because I am not actually a person; that I need to hide in order to stay alive. To this day, when I encounter homophobia, my first reaction is often to fight; sometimes the motivation is to protect myself or the man I love, but sometimes it’s because I just want to see that look of surprise on the face of some mouthy jock who didn’t expect this particular weak, pussy-faggot to be scrappy and fight back. I’ve spent countless hours in therapy working on this very thing, but having spent my formative years defending myself both physically and emotionally, it’s sometimes hard to turn that survival reflex off.

Just this past weekend, as we walked by a group of meathead bro-dudes with tribal tattoos and spray tans, one of them mocked what I had said to my boyfriend as we passed, only he did it in full-blown sissy voice. I stopped. My initial instinct was to Read the rest of this entry »

I took a job this week as a columnist for Just Out Magazine! Look for my monthly column when they relaunch in June. Fun, right?

From Just Out: (4/10/2012)

“Just Out is pleased to announce that openly gay writer, musician, and LGBT activist Logan Lynn has joined our ever-growing team of columnists! Logan’s articles range from celebrity interviews to mindful living to local, national, and international queer issues. In addition to writing for Just Out, The Huffington Post, Q Blog, and various mainstream and queer media outlets, Lynn has released five studio albums, six EPs and two singles since 1999 (with a new single on the way in June). He has worked closely with The Dandy Warhols and Styrofoam throughout his career and his music videos have appeared on MTV, Logo, Spike TV and VH1. He has also hosted shows and appeared in commercial spots for Logo and MTV on several occasions since 2007. Logan devotes much of his energy these days to working closely with Q Center, Oregon’s LGBTQ community center. He currently lives in Portland, and enjoys spending time with his partner Aleksandr, his teacup Pomeranian Dutch, and his beloved television.”

ha ha ha

I love that last line.

😉

(Originally Published on The Huffington Post on 3/30/2012)

I’m going to Los Angeles this weekend to meet my man’s parents for the first time. I’m really excited to get to know the people who created this extraordinary creature I love so much, and it feels super special to have been invited to accompany him on the journey. So romantical!

At any rate, I figured that because I’m spun out all giddy-like on matters of the heart at the moment, it would be the perfect time for the second round of my ongoing interview series about love and relationships, “Queer Celebrities Need Love, Too.” For this edition I reached out to Imperial Teen‘s Will Schwartz, original Hole drummer Patty Schemel, TV personality Philip Tetro (from MTV Canada’s 1 Girl 5 Gays), transgender comedian Ian Harvie, New York Times bestselling author (and Madonna‘s brother) Christopher G. Ciccone, actor PJ DeBoy, radio talkshow host (and former Playgirl president) Daniel Nardicio, and Sexpop god Mario Diaz. They all weighed in on the same five questions:

1. If you had to sum up the entire history of your love life in one word, what would it be?

2. What’s your favorite on-screen romance of all time? What was it about their love that you liked?

3. Name something that’s a deal breaker for you in relationships.

4. What does a perfect day look like to you? Is it spent alone or with someone else?

5. If you could pick a theme song for that day, what would it be?

Here’s what they had to say about stuff (and things). Read the rest of this entry »

(Originally Published on The Huffington Post on 2/22/2012)

As individuals in a marginalized group, we are often all placed together into a single pot by society. In this case, I am referring to the queer pot (but this happens around race, gender, age, religion, class — you name it). All of us, as members of the LGBT community, with all our differences, have this one thing in common: we are the minority. There is something about all of us that is unlike much of the rest of the world, and much of the rest of the world’s reaction to that difference can be painful, isolating, and dangerous.

Frequently, members of the greater community become fixated on our sexuality or gender expression, and they try to lump us together, assign us roles within our designated letter of the acronym, and dehumanize us in the process. One would hope this outer pressure would be enough to bring us together as LGBT people, that we would unite and become stronger in numbers and build a community so organized and powerful that our being a minority no longer mattered. Sadly, this has not been my experience as a man-loving man, nor in my work with gay organizations, nor as an out artist in the entertainment industry.

Being a public figure in the queer community is tough. You have to have pretty thick skin to tolerate the external homophobia that comes at you as a result of increased visibility, but I think I was raised to expect this, so it’s never a big shock when it happens. I know the world wants to see me dead on some level, or at least see me stop being such a “goddamn fag,” so it doesn’t surprise me when that pressure arrives. I recognize it coming a mile away and have learned methods of processing the external hate in such a way that it no longer hurts me. I have not, however, found or been able to develop a way of moving through the crab mentality of my own community without injury.

For those of you who have not heard this saying before, “crab mentality” (also known as “crabs in the barrel,” or “crabs in the bucket”) refers to the metaphor of a pot of live crabs about to be killed. Individually, the crabs could escape from the pot without any trouble, but when they are all in the pot together, they grab at each other in a pointless domination game that prevents any of them from escaping, thus ensuring their collective demise. When related to human behavior in social movements, the term is most commonly used in association with a short-sighted, non-constructive approach instead of a unified, long-term, productive mentality. As an openly gay musician, I have experienced this problem mostly via the gay press. Certainly, I’ve received my fair share of nasty emails and messages from people online and in person over the 10-plus years I’ve been doing this, as well, but there’s a distinctive sting that comes from someone in the queer media pulling me and my people back into the pot, and I believe that action trickles down into our culture and leaks out into our community consciousness from there. Read the rest of this entry »