By Dr. Tim Seelig–
Last month’s article was about our pursuit of perfection by embracing AI to write for me. It didn’t work out well. The article also included our pursuit of perfection in recording and the trajectory from vinyl through 8-tracks, cassettes, CDs, digital downloads, and, finally, streaming. In my other life of academic writing, I have written a great deal about our pursuit of perfection in music performance often to the detriment of actual connection. Are they mutually exclusive? But now, on to the book that literally pulled the curtain back on closeted gays and how we attempt to avoid detection by being perfect.
In 1973, the release of The Best Little Boy in the World took the burgeoning gay community by storm. It resonated deeply in every way. Regardless of the title, the message is non-gender specific. Most of it applies to every single LGBTQ+ person. It has been in print nonstop ever since it came out. 50 years is quite a run. Interestingly, and sadly, the author felt he had to use a pseudonym, John Reid, to avoid the repercussions of being openly gay. It was 1973. He was already a best-selling author in finance. The book was republished in 1998 under his real name, Andrew Tobias, and coincided with the release of a sequel, The Best Little Boy in the World Grows Up.
In his original book, Andrew relates his experience doing everything possible to be the best boy in the whole world. He describes a boy who doesn’t eat his Halloween candy without permission, won’t rip the tag off his mattress because the tag says not to, and didn’t fart for the first time until he was eighteen years old. He was always at the top of his class, honored his mom and dad, deferred to elders, and excelled in sports—and all other competitive activities.
A recently published study by John Pachankis and Mark Hatzenbuehler substantiated the “Best Little Boy in the World” hypothesis. Its research reveals that young, closeted men deflect attention from their sexuality by investing in recognized markers of success: good grades, athletic achievement, degrees, awards, elite employment, and so on. Overcompensating in competitive arenas affords them a sense of self-worth that their concealment diminishes. The study also reveals that the longer a young man conceals his sexual orientation, the more heavily he invests in external measures of success, often leading to undue stress and social isolation.
His story is also my story. This is exactly the way I lived my early years. OK, all the years until I came out—35 of them. Those may not sound particularly “early,” but when you are a septuagenarian, they look pretty young. I grew up in the ’50s and ’60s. No one was “out.” There was no role model to find who was like me. The closest celebrities were those who “acted” gay like Liberace, Paul Lynde, and Tiny Tim. None of them were officially out. In fact, they all denied it. There was a lot of celebrity drag out there such as Milton Berle and Flip Wilson. I remember church showcases where the men would dress as women. Absolutely none of those came close to making me want to be gay, much less dress in drag.
I remember vividly looking around to find things that would allow me to fit in with other boys. I learned early on that you crossed your leg with one ankle on the opposite knee; never dangling with one knee on top of the other. God forbid you would then wrap your ankle around the other in a pretzel leg. You carried your books—regardless of how many there were—in one hand/arm. You never held them to your chest. That was most definitely for the girls. Of course, you participated in sports. I was terrible at it. Strangely, in Texas, it was OK to be a cheerleader or member of a pep squad. I did both in middle school and high school. It was as close as I got to sports.
Participating in music was a bit of a slippery slope. I started in orchestra playing the string bass. It was the largest instrument of all. That surely counted for something. Carrying that big thing around gained me some hetero points. Being in church choir and even school choir was not tantamount to gay. It was long before Glee, so we were not required to add flamboyant choreography. Safe.
I had girlfriends. Note plural. It was most often a group of girls. Somehow, that was enough. I never allowed myself to get trapped in the back seat of my 1956 Chevy with just one girl. Don’t think for a minute I was riding around in a brand-new car. I graduated high school in 1969. The car was well worn. I drove my brother and whatever girlfriend he had at the time to and from events and church. I knew what activities happened in the back seat. Ew.
I overachieved with a vengeance. I absolutely deflected attention from what, in hindsight, should have been so obvious; there were lots of scholarships, awards, honors, and degrees. I would like it to be known I was nothing like Tiny Tim, even though I did marry a woman named Vicki. All of that was before the screaming out of the closet at 35.
I’m going to repeat this here: “[T]he longer a young man conceals his sexual orientation, the more heavily he invests in external measures of success.” I found those patterns impossible to break. But I was no longer working to deflect. I was living out and proud. I still wanted to be the best man/boy in the world. But now, everything I did from that time was to make life better for those who might follow in my path. I was laser-focused on changing whatever I could in my corner of the world.
Whenever I ponder peoples’ needs, I always return to Abraham Maslow’s Hierarchy of Human Needs. It was ingrained in my education. Of course, our greatest needs rest in the physiological needs: food, rest, water, shelter. Immediately after that comes our need for safety. As our world continues down the current path, this has more and more to do with actual physical safety than before. In Maslow’s work, he describes safety as including health, personal, emotional, and financial security.
The need for self-esteem and achievement doesn’t enter into the list of needs for quite some time. It follows the need for love, belonging, and connection. Those may have been there from our biological family, but all too often, in our hiding, we held even that at bay. “If they knew the real me, they wouldn’t love me.” It is interesting that our lack of feeling safe emotionally and inability to be loved lead us straight into the achievement need.
Truth is, there is no way to feel emotionally safe until we are able to come out and be our authentic selves. Author Brenda Uhland says, “Everyone is talented. Everyone is unique. Not everyone is authentic.” That is truly our Holy Grail.
At 72, do I still want to be the best boy in the world? 100%. Retirement is a word I haven’t embraced very well yet. Semi-retired is much better. I have too much yet to do. I’m incredibly grateful to have you all still along for the ride—and reading.
By the way, I still do not tear the tags off mattresses or pillows. I guess it is some irrational fear of the pillow-police, now headed by My Pillow Guy Mike Lindell. I purchase my own Halloween candy, turn off the lights to trick the Trick or Treaters into thinking no one is home, and eat the candy. No permission is required.
Whether you are still trying to be the best boy or you have let it go, I hope you know that there’s no bigger achievement you can make than just being your true self. Your authenticity helps make the world the best. U B U always. Surround yourself with others who do the same.
Dr. Tim Seelig is the Conductor Laureate of the San Francisco Gay Men’s Chorus. http://www.timseelig.com/
TLC: Tears, Laughs and Conversation
Published on May 4, 2023
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