By Russ López
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“I don’t know if the scenes depicted here rise to the need for a trigger warning, but the main character is a large man who takes a while to accept himself . He also breaks up with a man who has a substance abuse issue.” -Russ
2002
Do you remember how scared you were the first time you went to Provincetown? You had never felt comfortable with your body. You were the fat kid the jocks teased, the guy the girls confided in because you were safe, and the only virgin in your graduating class. And then you were in the middle of a town whose middle name was hedonism. Every guy was hot. But not you. Everyone was hooking up. Except for you.
It was Bear Week, the second week in July, where thirty thousand burly men crowded together in tiny Ptown, making many wonder how the whole tip of Cape Cod didn’t flip over and sink into the sea from the exuberance on its dancefloors. Some joyously declared that Ptown was a candy store for men who loved men. Others happily boasted it was the high point of their summer. At any time of the day or night, you could see dozens of bears lined up at the ATM and a large sleuth of them sitting on the benches in front of Town Hall. There were bear brunches, bear concerts, and bear orgies. And the parties in people’s rentals and in the dunes were legendary.
The only legitimate complaint was that it was impossible to do everything. Buy tickets for the famous Bear Cruise? Or catch the wondrous Luna performing her annual ursine tribute at the Standish Hotel? Should you go for a chaise lounge by the pool at The Commercial Street Inn? Or lay out on the pool deck at the Sea and Sand? Either way, you’d be surrounded by hundreds of bears enjoying the scene. Or maybe you should make it a beach day along with a couple thousand of your bear brothers at Herring Cove. How could anyone choose? Everywhere there were crowds with countless attractive people.
Forget Provincetown’s history and attractions of shopping on Commercial Street. Admit that the glorious views of the harbor, dunes, and quaint buildings, interesting as they might be, were not the reason for you diving into the excitement of that week. It was the men. Tall, short, brawny, or flabby, each was beautiful in his own way. Bears were men who were comfortable with their size, their body and facial hair, and their happy way of life having consciously rejected the slim, hairless, gym bodies of the mainstream gay world. They made Ptown a place to celebrate who they were. Everyone was special here. Except you.
Somehow, you relaxed. You made a joke, and everyone laughed. Even more amazing, you hit the dance floor at The Barn and no one laughed. Feeling bold, you smiled at a cute furry lumberjack type dancing next to you. And he smiled back. The next thing you knew, the two of you were rolling in bed having the time of your life. Then to your amazement, when it was over, he said, “Thank you. I never thought hot men like you would find me attractive.” You guys did it three more times before he left the next morning.
Suddenly, you were on fire. “Watch out,” one of your buddies playfully told a handsome dark bear in a wrestling singlet as he introduced you to him. “This guy is such an operator he’ll have your clothes off before midnight.” It took a minute to realize your buddy was talking about you.
Those encounters gave you confidence that powered your life when you returned home. The memories of that week gave you the courage to date Alex. It also made you brave enough to break up with him. Before that first Bear Week, you would have stayed with him despite his mood swings, his philandering, and his drinking. But you had discovered that you deserved better, and you were now full of optimism that there was someone out there who was right for you.
2012
Remember that first Bear Week after you broke up with Matt? Talk about a bad mood. Despite the blue sky, you walked around with dark clouds over you, the grand pessimist who found fault with everything. You hated the crowds, which made going to a restaurant or club an ordeal. You were turned off by how expensive everything was and resented that every place jacked up prices to take advantage of you and your friends. Fed up, you swore this would be your last Bear Week.
You attributed your foul humor to Matt. After five mostly wonderful years together, he sat you down to tell you he was leaving. “It’s not you, it’s me,” he said. You had known the relationship was dying. All Matt could talk about those last few months was how great his personal trainer was. “Jason brought in these delicious, gluten-free sugar-free cookies today.” You had thought it odd that anyone would eat snacks at a boot camp workout. “I bought a pair of blue gym shorts. Jason wears them all the time and I think they are very flattering.” In ways big and small, you had grown apart. But you had depended on Matt and ignored the hints that he wanted to break up. If he hadn’t abandoned you, life would have been happy. He made you feel special, and he was the one who boosted your ego and filled the voids in your life. You despised yourself for losing him.
But then, in the midst of the Bear Week bacchanalia, it hit you. Bear Week was just as alluring as ever. The real problem was that you had fallen out of love with yourself. The old self-loathing had re-emerged from that dark space in your soul where you had locked it away ten years ago. Furthermore, you knew it was up to you to make your life something. Looking at the crowds, you saw that they were attractive because they were in control of themselves. They had created their own personas and they were determined not to let others define and control them, and that is what made all these men sexy.
You didn’t get laid that Bear Week: a first. But you spent several afternoons biking the trails in the National Seashore to study how its twisted pines defiantly challenged the sun, salt, and sand that conspired against them. You went to a lecture at the Museum where you learned about the brave, talented female artists who found inspiration in Ptown to take on the male-dominated art world. And as you watched the sun rise while sitting on the breakwater, you realized you liked Bear Week, Ptown, and yourself.
2022
You are worried, but then, you wouldn’t be yourself without all your anxieties. From the time you were a kid, you had a closet full of them. But as long as you can keep them under control you can keep marching forward through life. Thus, you are proud of yourself and everything you have become despite your fears. You have made the plunge to buy a place in Ptown to live here full-time. You’ve sold your condo in the city, told your boss you are now a remote employee, and made a space for yourself here.
The renovations of your new place were completed in April, just in time to enjoy the season. You have spent the weeks since preparing for Bear Week, inviting a couple of special friends to crash in your spare bedroom, carefully crafting the guest list for your housewarming cocktail party, and buying just the right clothes to show off at every event you are going to take in that week. You told yourself you weren’t bragging about your good fortune, but you knew you were.
Hovering over everything, however, is your breakup with Gavin. You tried to make it work. He tried as well. But in the end, it was clear that you both had different ideas of what you wanted to do with your lives. Powered by wanderlust, he is off to travel to every national park in his RV while you want the stability of a job and a full-time place to live. You like to get up to watch the sunrise, while he prefers the serenity of stargazing at midnight. You were sure enough of yourself to say goodbye and good luck.
So you are free of attachments and happy about it. You are in Ptown because this fragile spit of sand gives you strength. There is a community here that has supported you for decades. You own your life; you’ve learned during your time here. It’s up to you to make something of it.
Russ López is the author of six nonfiction books including The Hub of the Gay Universe: An LGBTQ History of Boston, Provincetown, and Beyond. He is the editor of LatineLit, an online magazine that publishes fiction by and about Latinx people, and his work has appeared in The Fictional Café, Somos en escrito, Northeast Atlantic, Discretionary Love, Night Picnic, The Gay and Lesbian Review, The Journal of the American Medical Association (JAMA), and elsewhere. López has also written numerous academic articles, book reviews, and works in other formats. Originally from California with degrees from Stanford, Harvard, and Boston University, Russ lives in Boston and Provincetown.
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