Savor Every Moment in Life

This week I turn 41 years old. Saying that often seems strange. I don’t feel how I think a 41-year old man should feel, which is basically “old.” On the contrary, I still feel like that 15-year old kid I once was, who spent his time vogueing and drawing and dreaming and loving life.

But apparently some people dread entering their 40’s. They seem to think that it’s the beginning of the end. That everything is downhill from there on out. I have had quite the opposite experience. For me, entering my 40’s has been one of the most exciting times of my life.

The last twelve months have been pretty stellar:

•  I’ve finally grown confident in my skills as a photographer and know that photography is the career that I’ve been longing to have. And I have been hustling to make that dream a reality as fast as I can.
• I have traveled both foreign and domestic. No other explanation needed. Traveling is amazing.
• I have continued to be surrounded by family and friends who I love and who return love to me. Again, no other explanation needed.
•  I continue to focus energy on being physically and emotionally fit. I have never looked (and felt) so physically good nor have I ever felt more in tune with who I am as a person.
• I commemorated 14+ years of living in NYC.
• I danced on-stage with Madonna. Proving that dreams do come true.
• I celebrated five years of having quit smoking and given up drinking. Two vices I never thought I would live without but which I am eternally grateful that I no longer do.

But as I sit here writing this, I am reminded of how fortunate I am to be experiencing these revelations. Because I am still alive.

By now everyone knows the story: just a few days ago, the largest mass shooting in the United States’ history occurred in Orlando, Florida at a gay nightclub, called Pulse. Though I did not personally know any of the 50 victims who were killed, or any of the 50+ victims who were injured, I am a proud member of the LGBT community, and when something like this occurs within the community with which you identify, you can’t help but feel emotionally involved.

I have grappled with how I feel. Sad for the victim’s families and for the loss of life. Angry at the injustice of innocent people being killed and the lack of legislation being passed for gun control. Scared at what type of message this sends homophobic people and for what it could mean to the progress I thought gay rights were making in the world.

I withheld from telling family members I was gay for so incredibly long over the fear that telling them would change my relationship with them, that they would push me away. The last time I was in a relationship I was too scared to hold hands in public for fear of being seen, of being gay bashed. I’ve seen gay men walking down the street wearing crop tops and booty-shorts and carrying a purse and wearing makeup and felt frightened that they may get beaten up or threatened by someone who doesn’t accept them or the way they want to dress and act in public.

Whether you think it or not, being openly gay in this world takes an extreme amount of courage.

And ultimately, that’s why Orlando, or any other mass shooting for that matter, is so horrific. It’s an attack on people who are bravely trying to live their life, without prejudice and judgment and hatred. The people who were at Pulse on Saturday night were simply trying to live their lives in a place they felt safe. Pulse, as it’s been called in the news and as any gay bar or club has always been, was their sanctuary. Like Madonna says in her song Into The Groove: “only when I’m dancing can I feel this free…” The 50 people whose lives were taken no longer have the chance to live the lives they want, to pursue their careers, to travel, or workout, or dance, or love.

But we can. And we will. Because every night when we go to bed, when we rest our heads on our pillows, we can count our blessings that we were able to experience life for another day.

So as I celebrate turning 41 I’ll do so by celebrating with friends. And by dancing alone in my kitchen while listening to Madonna. And by photographing a hot shirtless guy. And by walking along the Hudson river to watch the sunset. And by telling my mom I love her. And by any other way I can possibly think of to just enjoy being “here.”

There are never enough ways to live your life to its fullest. Don’t waste another moment.