More Than Admiration

There was a comment I read the other day from another gay man that made me stop and think. He said that when he was younger, he thought he wanted to look like the men in fitness magazines. As he got older, he realized that maybe he didn’t just want to be them—he wanted to be with them.

I had one of those moments where I realized I wasn’t alone.

When I was in high school, I bought magazines like Exercise for Men Only. At least that’s what I told myself. I convinced myself that I was buying them because I wanted to build a body like the men on the covers. I admired their physiques. I studied the workout routines. I wanted bigger arms, a flatter stomach, and the confidence those men seemed to possess.

Or so I thought.

Looking back, I realize that while I genuinely wanted to be healthier and more muscular, I spent a lot more time looking at the models than I ever did reading about triceps exercises or ab workouts. Those magazines became what today might be called “spank bank” material, even if I wasn’t willing to admit that to myself at the time.

The funny thing is that I don’t think I was lying to myself entirely. I really did want a body like theirs. But I also wanted to kiss them. I wanted to date them. I wanted to wake up beside them. The desire to be them and the desire to be with them had become so intertwined that I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.

When you’re a closeted teenager, that’s not all that surprising.

Growing up, I didn’t have the language to understand what I was feeling. Admitting—even to myself—that I was attracted to other boys wasn’t something I was prepared to do. It was much easier to tell myself that I simply admired them. Wanting to look like them felt acceptable. Wanting to be with them did not.

Reading that comment reminded me that I wasn’t the only one who experienced that confusion. Judging by the responses, a lot of gay men did. It seems many of us first encountered our attraction to other men disguised as admiration or aspiration. Our earliest crushes looked suspiciously like role models.

The magazines have changed over the years. The physique magazines of earlier generations gave way to fitness magazines like Exercise for Men Only, Men’s Fitness, and others. Today, magazine racks have largely been replaced by Instagram, TikTok, and YouTube fitness influencers. The medium has changed, but I suspect the experience hasn’t. Somewhere, there’s a teenager scrolling through an endless stream of shirtless fitness influencers, convincing himself he’s just looking for workout tips.

Maybe he is.

Or maybe, years from now, he’ll read a comment from another gay man and realize he wasn’t alone either.

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Just Another Wednesday

Today marks the halfway point of what has been a pretty ordinary week. There’s nothing particularly exciting happening, no big plans, no major milestones, and honestly, that’s made it a little difficult to think of something to write about this morning.

Sometimes it seems like every blog post should have an interesting story or a profound insight behind it, but life doesn’t always work that way. Some weeks are simply routine. I get up, feed Isabella, head to work, come home, spend some time with her, and do it all again the next day. There’s comfort in that routine, even if it doesn’t make for the most exciting blog post.

I suppose that’s part of life, though. Not every day is memorable, and not every week is filled with adventures or challenges. Most of our lives are made up of ordinary days strung together. Those quiet moments may not seem significant while we’re living them, but they’re often the foundation that keeps us going when life does become hectic.

The good news is we’re halfway through the workweek. Before long it’ll be Friday, and the weekend will be here. Until then, I’ll keep plugging away, enjoying the little moments where I can, and looking forward to whatever comes next.

I hope your week is going well, whether it’s been exciting or just pleasantly ordinary. Have a wonderful Wednesday!

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Le Chat (The Cat)

Today is Bastille Day, France’s national holiday, so it seemed fitting to feature one of the country’s greatest poets. Charles Baudelaire’s Les Fleurs du Mal (The Flowers of Evil) forever changed modern poetry, exploring beauty, desire, melancholy, and the mysteries hidden within everyday life.

Of all the poems in that remarkable collection, I chose “Le Chat” (“The Cat”). Anyone who has followed this blog for long knows why. Isabella has ruled my home—and my heart—for the past ten years. Although Baudelaire’s cat becomes a bridge to thoughts of the woman he loves, I recognize something equally familiar: the quiet companionship of a black cat, whose gaze seems to understand more than words ever could.

Le Chat

By Charles Baudelaire

Viens, mon beau chat, sur mon coeur amoureux;
Retiens les griffes de ta patte,
Et laisse-moi plonger dans tes beaux yeux,
Mêlés de métal et d’agate.

Lorsque mes doigts caressent à loisir
Ta tête et ton dos élastique,
Et que ma main s’enivre du plaisir
De palper ton corps électrique,

Je vois ma femme en esprit. Son regard,
Comme le tien, aimable bête
Profond et froid, coupe et fend comme un dard,

Et, des pieds jusques à la tête,
Un air subtil, un dangereux parfum
Nagent autour de son corps brun.

The Cat

— Translated by William Aggeler (1954)

Come, superb cat, to my amorous heart;
Hold back the talons of your paws,
Let me gaze into your beautiful eyes
Of metal and agate.

When my fingers leisurely caress you,
Your head and your elastic back,
And when my hand tingles with the pleasure
Of feeling your electric body,

In spirit I see my woman. Her gaze
Like your own, amiable beast,
Profound and cold, cuts and cleaves like a dart,

And, from her head down to her feet,
A subtle air, a dangerous perfume
Floats about her dusky body.

About the Poem

Anyone who has shared life with a cat—especially a black cat—knows that Baudelaire captures something almost impossible to describe. Cats are affectionate without being dependent, mysterious without being distant. They offer companionship on their own terms, and somehow that makes their affection all the more meaningful.

Reading this poem, I cannot help but think of Isabella. She is never very far away from me. Whether she’s sleeping nearby, watching me work, or demanding breakfast before dawn, she has a way of making her presence known without ever asking to be the center of attention. Like Baudelaire’s cat, her eyes seem to hold a depth that invites contemplation.

Of course, Baudelaire uses the cat as a doorway to thoughts of the woman he loved, Jeanne Duval, whose beauty he often portrayed as both captivating and dangerous. My own thoughts travel a different path. Isabella reminds me not of romance but of comfort, companionship, and the quiet routines that make a house feel like a home. Her soft purrs, her curious nature, and even her stubborn independence have become part of the rhythm of my daily life.

Perhaps that is one reason cats have fascinated artists, poets, and writers for centuries. They remain wonderfully unknowable. We may share our lives with them for years, yet they always retain a little mystery. On this Bastille Day, it seems fitting to celebrate not only one of France’s greatest poets but also the timeless fascination with these remarkable creatures—especially one little black cat who has made my own life immeasurably richer.

“Le Chat” first appeared in Les Fleurs du Mal, published in 1857. The collection shocked many readers of its day and was even prosecuted for offending public morality. Six of its poems were censored in France, and that ban remained in place for nearly one hundred years. Today, however, Les Fleurs du Mal is recognized as one of the foundational works of modern French poetry.

In this sonnet, Baudelaire blends sensual imagery with psychological symbolism. The cat is not merely a pet but a living symbol of elegance, mystery, beauty, and quiet power. Its eyes, described as a mixture of metal and agate, suggest something both precious and impenetrable. As the speaker strokes the cat, his thoughts naturally drift toward the woman he loves, whose beauty shares the same irresistible yet dangerous qualities.

The poem also demonstrates Baudelaire’s remarkable ability to move effortlessly between physical sensation and emotional reflection. What begins as the simple act of petting a cat becomes a meditation on attraction, memory, and desire. Like much of Les Fleurs du Mal, the poem finds extraordinary meaning in an ordinary moment.

About the Poet

Charles Baudelaire (1821–1867) was one of France’s most influential poets, critics, and translators and is widely regarded as one of the founders of literary modernism. His masterpiece, Les Fleurs du Mal, challenged conventional ideas about beauty by finding poetry in melancholy, urban life, longing, sensuality, and even moral ambiguity.

Although the collection was controversial when it was first published, Baudelaire’s influence on literature has been immense. His work inspired later poets such as Paul Verlaine, Arthur Rimbaud, Stéphane Mallarmé, and, beyond France, writers including T. S. Eliot. Today he is celebrated as one of the greatest poets in the French language, whose exploration of beauty, longing, and the complexities of the human spirit continues to resonate with readers around the world.

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Not Quite Ready

Another work week is beginning, and if I’m being honest, I’m not quite ready for it yet. Monday is here, though, and work is waiting. Thankfully, today is a meeting-free day. The rest of the week is packed.

At the moment, I’d much rather stay curled up on the couch or crawl back into bed, but neither of those is going to happen. Hopefully, once the coffee kicks in and a hot shower wakes me up, I’ll be ready to face the day.

I hope everyone has a wonderful week!

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Walking in the Light

This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you, that God is light and in him there is no darkness at all. If we say that we have fellowship with him while we are walking in darkness, we lie and do not do what is true; but if we walk in the light as he himself is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin.

— 1 John 1:5–7

Today is a special day for me. Sixteen years ago, I clicked “Publish” on the very first post of The Closet Professor. At the time, I had no idea that one post would become thousands, or that what began as a hobby would become a chronicle of my faith, my struggles, my joys, my grief, and my journey toward authenticity.

Over those sixteen years, I have written about history, museums, literature, travel, and yes, more than a few handsome men. I’ve written about my beloved cats—Victoria, whom longtime readers knew as HRH, and now Isabella—along with my family, my work, and the places I’ve visited. More importantly, I’ve written about the tremendous grief that followed the death of a dear friend, struggles with depression, moments of doubt, unexpected blessings, and the countless ordinary days that quietly shape a life.

Looking back, I realize this blog has become more than a collection of posts. It has become a record of God’s faithfulness through seasons I never could have imagined when I wrote that first entry.

Today’s passage from 1 John reminds us that “God is light and in him there is no darkness at all.” Throughout Scripture, light symbolizes God’s presence, truth, and love. Darkness often represents fear, deception, and the things that keep us separated from God, from others, and sometimes even from ourselves.

For many LGBTQ+ Christians, that imagery carries a deeply personal meaning. Too many of us have spent years believing that who we are had to remain hidden if we wanted to be loved by God or accepted by others. We learned to compartmentalize our lives, revealing only the parts we thought were acceptable while hiding the rest. Living that way is exhausting because we are constantly afraid that someone will discover the truth.

When I chose the name The Closet Professor, it reflected where I was in life. The “closet” was still a place I understood all too well. Over the years, however, the title has taken on a different meaning for me. Rather than being a reminder of hiding, it has become a reminder of the journey God has led me on—from fear toward authenticity, from silence toward honesty, and from believing I had to hide parts of myself to trusting that I am fully known and fully loved by God.

John doesn’t tell us to become perfect before we come into the light. He simply calls us to walk in it.

Walking in the light means living honestly before God. It means trusting that God already knows us completely and loves us completely. It means allowing ourselves to be seen—not because we have everything figured out, but because we trust that God’s grace is greater than our fears.

As I continued writing The Closet Professor, I found myself becoming more honest. Some days that honesty meant celebrating life’s joys. Other days it meant admitting pain, uncertainty, loneliness, or weakness. I discovered that authenticity isn’t something to fear. It is one of the ways God draws us into deeper fellowship with Him and with one another.

John writes, “If we walk in the light as he himself is in the light, we have fellowship with one another.” I have experienced that fellowship in ways I never expected. Readers from around the world have shared their own stories, encouraged me during difficult seasons, celebrated happy moments with me, challenged me to think more deeply, and reminded me that none of us walks this journey alone. What began as a simple blog has become a genuine community, and for that I am profoundly grateful.

Sixteen years later, I don’t celebrate The Closet Professor because of the number of posts I’ve written or the number of years it has existed. I celebrate because it reminds me of God’s patient work in my life. Looking back, I can see His light guiding me even when I couldn’t always see the path ahead.

Perhaps that’s what walking in the light really means. It doesn’t mean we’ve arrived. It doesn’t mean we never struggle or stumble. It means we choose, day after day, to keep following the One who is the Light of the World, trusting that every step taken in truth is a step taken closer to God.

As you reflect on today’s passage, I invite you to consider this question: What part of your life is God inviting you to bring into His light? Whatever it may be, remember that His light is not meant to shame us but to reveal the depth of His love, His grace, and His desire that we live as the people He created us to be.

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