The Closet Professor

Last night turned into a later night than I had planned. Then, as usual, Isabella decided that breakfast absolutely could not wait and woke me up at 5:00 this morning. After feeding her, I intended to make coffee and start my day, but instead I crawled back into bed and promptly fell asleep again.

I do have my coffee now, but if I’m being honest, I’d still happily go back to sleep. Thankfully, it’s Friday, and I’m working from home today, so I can take things a little easier than usual.

The weekend is just around the corner, and I’m looking forward to a couple of days to relax and recharge. I hope all of you have a wonderful Friday and an even better weekend!

There are a few things I always notice about a man. If I’m behind him, it’s obviously his butt, but if I’m facing him, it’s usually his smile or his eyes before my gaze wanders any lower. I think that’s probably true for most of us, whether we admit it or not. I also pay attention to how a man dresses because I appreciate someone who takes pride in how he presents himself and carries himself. I’m not a fan of someone who looks sloppy or careless. I’ll notice his haircut too because even back when I had plenty of hair myself, I always appreciated a man with a good haircut.

Now, while I may lust after a handsome man for all the reasons above, those things alone are not what determine whether I’d want to pursue anything more—assuming he was even interested. What matters next is what comes out of his mouth. I’m attracted to intelligence, but not arrogance. I like warmth, kindness, and friendliness. I’m a shy person, especially when it comes to meeting men, and that’s probably a large part of why I’m still single. I’ve never been particularly good at making the first move or believing someone might actually be interested in me, so I tend to hold back more than I probably should. In some ways, that has become even more true since I lost weight. Even now, I still think people see the awkward overweight guy I used to be. There have been plenty of times when I’ve replayed an interaction in my head afterward and suddenly realized the guy was probably flirting with me and it went completely over my head at the time.

I’ll also admit that if a guy is attractive and friendly, but maybe not the sharpest tool in the shed, I’m perfectly capable of keeping things physical and nothing more—though I rarely go in that direction anymore. These days, I tend to be a bit more selective when it comes to intimate encounters.

With all that said, there is one thing that will always make me weak in the knees: a wink.

If a guy winks at me, I instinctively wink back, and there’s immediately a spark of attraction. Part of it is the confidence behind a wink. It takes a certain personality to do that—to create an instant connection between two people with nothing more than a look. A wink says, “We’re thinking the same thing,” but it also feels like sharing a secret, no matter how small or insignificant that secret might be.

I’m not entirely sure why a wink affects me so much, but I suspect it has something to do with the kinds of guys I was attracted to back in high school, long before I ever allowed myself to admit I was gay. The boys I tended to like had a certain bravado, but they were also friendly. They didn’t immediately look at me and think, “He’s a fag,” and treat me like someone beneath them or someone to avoid. Instead, they saw a nice guy—someone smart, maybe a little awkward and shy, but always kind.

They also tended to be protective of me.

I was picked on a lot in school, mostly because people perceived me as gay, which is probably another reason it took me so long to admit my sexuality to myself. I didn’t want to be the thing everyone mocked or treated as something shameful. It took me a long time to get past that and allow myself to simply be who I was. Even after I came out to most people, it still took me a long time to feel comfortable enough to fully be myself.

When someone bullied me, these guys would often step in. Sometimes it was subtle; other times, it definitely wasn’t. They might throw an insult right back at the bully or shut them down with a joke. And often, after doing it, they’d give me that wink.

It was their way of saying, “I’ve got your back.”

I think most of us can agree on how a man’s physical appearance can affect us, but I’m curious: what is the one thing that always makes you weak in the knees?