So Chuck and I went to a couples yoga thing here in Phoenix last Friday night. We thought that since I'm getting into yoga and he's been into it for a long time, it would be a fun activity to share. Not a bad date night, we figured.

A couple days before, I had this weird thought: even though it's a yoga studio, and super friendly, and loving, and kind, and yadda yadda, perhaps we ought to ask whether gay couples are welcomed? Not allowed. Obviously we knew we'd be allowed. The question was, would we feel welcomed?

I mentioned this to Chuck, we talked about it, and just let it go. Not a real concern at such an enlightened place. As it turned out, we had to register. So Chuck did call, and did mention that we were both men. The woman he spoke to, he said, was almost taken aback at the question. Of course we'd be welcomed.

So we went. It was actually more strenuous than I had expected, but also fun, and nice. I might do it again, if Chuck was up for it. Maybe.

We were welcomed nicely by the woman who owns and runs the place. I'm leaving out names because this isn't about the place. It's more about living in a straight world as a gay person/gay couple.

But once we got into the space with the other couples, things changed a bit.

There may have been 10 couples. We were certainly the only same-sex couple there. I tried to get "zen" about it, and let it go, and I somewhat succeeded. I don't need anyone's approval. Just like with yoga, I am where I am. I am who I am.

But I have to admit, I struggled. It was just a feeling. Could it have come from me? Am I not self-accepting? I don't know. All I know is that before and after the class, not to mention during, no one looked at me. No one smiled at me.

I chalked it up to Bill being self-involved. Stop thinking about yourself, I kept telling myself. But after the class, I was surprised when Chuck, who is much less apt to be self-involved than I am, echoed my feelings.

"That was really awkward," he said.

We talked about it. We both left feeling like we didn't fit in or belong. It didn't help that the woman who ran it decided to give instructions to "men" and "women," forcing one of us to be the female.

I don't have answers as to why I felt the way I felt. But I do have a few thoughts about our society, and what would be nice. I know I cannot change the behavior of others, but I will make a suggestion or two, should you wish to be part of a solution, rather than part of a problem.

Straight folks: don't be afraid to overcompensate. It sounds stupid, but you know what? We're all human. When you see a gay couple in a situation that would make you feel awkward, realize that they may feel that way, too. Perhaps you might go over and be friendly with them? I'd rather feel like someone was trying too hard to make me feel like I belonged when I didn't, than feel that I really don't belong.

Second, and this sounds a bit PC: should we eschew the male/female standard when in a situation where not every couple is male/female? I know it leads down an annoying path for a lot of people, but what better way to tell a person they don't belong than to call them by the wrong sex! Is person one and person two so hard? Partner one and partner two? I'd have felt self-conscious about being the cause of that change for about half a second, and then really grateful when Chuck didn't have to be called female for the next two-plus hours.

I'm not blaming the yoga establishment here; I love the place. I'm more bringing up a concern I have about the world. I really want to be part of it, and welcomed into it. It's always nice when who I am is affirmed by the rest of the world. I like that.