We’ve all heard the saying, “Nice guys finish last.”  And I’ve lamented before, on a social networking blog I once kept, that as the proverbial “nice guy”, while I didn’t always finish last, it would’ve been nice to win, for a change.  Well, as a former track and field athlete, I was trained to learn that how you ran a race was dependent on the type of race you were in.  I recently came to the realization that navigating through the often “cutthroat” world of dating isn’t that different.

There was once a time when everything I had learned in my life about myself and the people around me manifested itself to everyone I came into contact with as an exuberant self-confidence which many people seemed to be attracted to, be it romantically, sexually or platonically. 

For many years, the magic of the holidays was something I practically drew life force from, making it my most favourite time of year.  Anything that could be decorated would be adorned with some form of Yuletide cheer. Christmas songs would not only emanate from my radio, but also from my mobile phone as a ringer and for the final month of the year my disposition would be so super bright, peppy and cheerful, it would be as if I could mystically transform anything Scrooge- or Grinch-like into the most ideal vision of the Season with a simple wiggle of my nose!  I was like Glinda the Good Witch on steroids.  I couldn’t help myself!  To me, this time of year was always so beautiful, magical and most of all, romantic. Yes. I was that gay!