There's a mighty force that runs through the gay gene -- it's the allegiance to fancy gyms, bawdy musicals, and those unyieldingly tight Diesel jeans.
It's how Madonna surprisingly packs stadiums every single time that she reinvents herself.
Simply put, it's the potent power of gay loyalty.
We're loyal to the bars we frequent in the Fruit Loop. We're loyal to the ridiculously expensive underwear we buy. We're even loyal to the lattes we perpetually order at Alterra.
It's amazing how devoted and loyal we can be to this "stuff" that we define ourselves by.
But past the cocktails, the Calvin Kleins, and caramel skim lattes with foam, do we bring this fervent loyalty into our relationships?
As gays, we reach a time in childhood when we realize that we're a little different than our friends. We treat this secret the same way we treat a friend's cold sore: Aggressively pretend it doesn't exist.
Finally, for one reason or another, we share this secret with only a few friends. We divulge this secret ( we come out) to friends that we truly feel won't spill the "rainbow" beans about us.
Their loyalty carries our entire emotional happiness.
It's not surprising that, as adults, we still expect and maintain this high level of loyalty with our close relationships. I'm addressing relationship loyalty in the truest sense of the concept.
Loyalty to our friends is being willing to stand beside them even they're wrong. It's also being honest with our boyfriend or girlfriend, even when it's difficult.
Strangely, this loyalty becomes the elusive glue that bonds all of our relationships.
This concept is far from modern gay. Aristotle actually developed the term "philia" in ancient Greece to describe the concept of relationship loyalty. Rather fitting, philia is an unbiased love between a person and their friends and family.
As gay adults, we have a deep-rooted bond with the idea of philia, or unbiased loyalty. This is simply because we have relied so heavily on it in the past.
My barometer of judging loyalty is when it even reigns over self-interest.
In this life it's easy to allow loyalty to sit shotgun while self-involvement steers. But truly loyal people place you above their own wants.
For instance, my nearest and dearest gal pal, Shelly. While she's perhaps one of the most self-interested people in my life, she's more importantly one of the most loyal.
Shelly would drive around Milwaukee tirelessly at 3 a.m. to pick me up. Also, she's the first person to take her earrings out, tie her weave in a ponytail, and carefully place her handbag somewhere safe and "step into the ring" to defend me.
And I do the same for her, aside from the taking out earrings and pulling back a weave.
With loyal relationships you should expect a high level of honesty. My roommate Allan and I have very candid discussions about anything from boys we're dating to family trouble. He's also the first one to tell me if my outfit hurts like a margarita hangover.
On any every level his honesty is a symbol of his philia to our relationship.
Honesty is the often referred to as the foundation of a great relationship. If honesty is the foundation, then loyalty is the roof. One is very inhospitable without the other.
Now, some may argue that gays are too fickle a bunch to be loyal. Gay folks, specifically men, are infamous for changing their devotions as quickly as they change designer underwear... or boyfriends.
But being inconsistent about trends like skinny jeans, oversized sunglasses, or the tall blonde waiter you met Sunday at Barossa is quite different then loyalty to a close relationship.
We harbor deep feelings to the things we truly love like music, cuisine and our phillia, relationships with friends and family. All these relationships create our world or kingdom that we function in everyday.
And nothing matters more to a "queen" than loyalty.
