I knew I liked Brandon the moment I met him.
He’s smart, stylish and warm. At a reception I attended Friday, he showered me with compliments and took me by the hand to introduce me to everyone he knew.
He made me feel special. It made me wish more men were like him.
A half-hour later, several female friends joined me at the reception, and within minutes they were surrounded by gregarious, good-looking men they had just met, laughing as if they’d known them for years.
The caveat: All the men were gay.It was a mixer for gay and lesbian journalists at the National Association of Hispanic Journalists convention in Fort Worth. I helped found the caucus for our gay members and went to introduce myself.
I assumed that my friends – four straight women – wouldn’t want to go, but they wanted to support me. Turned out, we had a fabulous time.
As soon as we left, my friend Mónica blurted, “I just love gay men!”
“Aren’t they great?” Marisol replied, speaking on behalf of every woman I know.
The rest of us – Jenny, Regina and I – counted the reasons we love gay men: They’re funny, affectionate, creative, look good and know how to treat a woman.
OK, maybe not all gay men are. There are certainly misanthropic slobs among them, but they’re not the gay men we were talking about.
The ones we idealize are the gay men we wish straight men would emulate.
It made me think: There’s a lot straight men can learn from gay men.
It’s not just “Queer Eye for the Straight Guy” lessons on fashion and cooking. Many gay men can connect with women on a deeper emotional level than most straight men.
They’re not concerned with appearing resilient or independent. They tend to be more open than most straight men, even if it means revealing vulnerabilities. That makes them more human to us.
Decades ago, men fell into two categories: straight and gay. Straight men drank beer from a can and never wore sorbet-colored shirts. Closeted men who could get away with the charade fit into that category as well. Gay men, who were out, were obvious.
The paradigm was rigid. Hetero men feared being labeled gay if they dressed nattily or cried.
Shifts in society have helped prod men to get in touch with their feminine side. Men no longer bear the burden of being the sole breadwinners of their family. Single daddies are no longer rare. Just like women now bring home the bacon, men have learned to fry it.
The fluidity of societal roles has spawned the creation of terms to try to define these evolved men: metrosexuals, straight man acting gay, gay vague, ambiguous orientation.
These terms, and their reliance on defining men by clinging to stereotypes of what makes a man, show we’re still hung up on labels.
It’s understandable considering when a woman checks out a guy who is dressed impeccably, she wants to know: Is he attainable?
That’s less of an issue for me. I figure a man who’s straight will define his interest by his actions.
The bigger issue, beyond helping men realize it’s tacky to wear white socks with black slacks, is getting macho men to understand that opening up is good for them and their relationships.
Many people have bought into the notion that men are from Mars and women are from Venus, making us think men can’t learn to be more nurturing and women can’t stop being so probing.
And that’s not true. Just like men are buying exfoliating cream and wearing orange-sherbet shirts and matching orange ties, they’re also learning to open up.
It might take many more generations for men to open up as freely as women do, but I have no doubt it will happen.
In the meantime, women can always get their emotional fix from the next-best thing: gay men.
Cindy Rodríguez’s column appears Tuesdays and Thursdays in Scene. Contact her at 303-820-1211 or crodriguez@denverpost.com.
