To Be a Hoe or To Be Alone: An Evolving Dilemma

This past Sunday, I was both thoroughly enjoying myself and also mildly disgusted by myself as I was chatting up four different guys in my texts.

The world knows no coincidences as the song ‘LMK’ by the truly underrated artist Kelela came on one of my mixes, a song about a one-night stand and the confident freedom of having no strings attached that comes with it. The world was telling me to be a man whore, right?

Conversely, the night before, I was out with good friends grabbing food and drinks where, at one point, I was opining about how I found myself feeling particularly dejected after someone I seemed to have palpable chemistry with completely ghosted me.

While we all win and lose in the game of romance and sex, this particular situation struck a chord deep inside that I wasn’t expecting. Small winds of disappointment and exasperation come for us all with the dating game, especially in our era of apps, where a majority of interactions are fleeting.

But this one hurt the insecure 15-year-old that lives somewhere in my psyche. The one who wasn’t fully confident in himself yet and feared rejection on most levels, the tale of most adolescents.

More than anything, those moments can sting, lightly or intensely, and be baffling because you want basic closure. A simple, ‘Hey, you’re great, but I’m just not interested’ is all a person needs.

But alas, therein lies the duality of human nature.

I have the ability to feel something on a deeper level one day, relaying to my friends about how I want something consistent and not to be alone forever, and then not giving a damn the next as I’m saying some wildly X-rated things to another suitor.

Also displaying the yin and the yang of it all is how, after being single for 2+ years now, there is a beautiful luxury of flying solo, but also that sporadic loneliness with its desire for something steady creeps in too.

Case in point: I am an AMC Stubs member (something I’ve advertised to many friends over the last few years and should really investigate getting paid for) and frequently go to the movies to see everything from Dune: Part 2 to Poor Things to Kung Fu Panda 4; it’s a coat of many colors.

I go by myself generally and welcome it as I am going to become immersed in a movie for two hours, not hang out with people. Recently though, I felt that pit in my stomach as the Nicole Kidman ad flashed across the screen. I thought, ‘It would be nice to do this with a significant other’.

I’ve rarely been a person who has thought about how a majority of the people around me are in long-term relationships or married etc., but of course, with all these collective recent moments, I couldn’t help but think about how single I felt.

To some degree, that particular thought for any of us at any time when it does creep in is irrelevant as any of these couples could break up at any given that life is unpredictable, but in the here and now, the thought takes a different avenue.

I joked with my friend about the Sex and the City episode where Miranda almost chokes on her Chinese food alone in her apartment. Side note, I have loved hopping back in with its recent Netflix release, even though it’s been available on HBO for years. There’s something that turns the light bulb on and makes it feel novel on another streaming service – we’re simple creatures. But I digress.

Miranda then cries to Carrie that she feels like she’s going to die alone and while I don’t feel that desperate about things, the heightened emotions will make you ponder such things.

But then again, I oscillate back to the other end of the spectrum where I love the ability to do me whenever, wherever and without attachment.

Very much in one of those cliché spaces of life where I have been focused on myself, the slow burn that is building a career and the even slower burn that is being mentally content on a daily basis, romance as a general concept has felt like less of a priority.

Casual sex, on the other hand, is not as who among us doesn’t need some intimacy in the form of lust?

This is another branch of the puzzle that I’ve long had mixed feelings on.

After laughing at myself on Sunday about what I perceived to be ‘hoe behavior’ in chatting up four guys at once, I was thinking about the psychology of it all.

In this era of sex positivity and freedom of self-expression that is seemingly ever evolving on the daily, who cares if I was chatting about 10 guys at once? However, to quote Emma Stone in Easy A, in regard to her alleged physical dalliances, “sounds like a lot of work”.

I read about Karamo Brown of Netflix’s Queer Eye fandom going on 40 dates in 40 days or some rapid fire rate like that. Whew, I do not have the time, money or patience for all of that. That is not a science experiment I’m willing to roll the hypothetical dice on.

Variety is the spice of life (that was not a Dune reference as mentioned, drum roll please!). I am a young-ish, handsome (modesty) guy who is enjoying the freedom of single life and having a great second wave of figuring out what I do and don’t want in a person, whether for a couple of weeks or a couple of years.

As far as dating apps, it’s understood that this is not something that should be taken too seriously given the fickle nature of most on them.

People have busy lives. People are flaky. And in the sea of thousands of other profiles to skim through, it seems people often think the grass is greener elsewhere, grass that contains EVERY SINGLE THING they’re looking for. Best of luck with those standards – did that sound bitter or realistic?

In my early 20s when I first dabbled in dating apps, I approached it with a young enthusiasm and felt down a handful of times when weeks’ long interactions that were seemingly going well abruptly dissipated.

Now in my 30s? Please. (Rare moments like the above aside)

Sometimes maybe you just want to hang out with a good looking, charming date with the possibility of some penetration on a Saturday night. At the very least, someone should be catching some tongue, yaknowwhatImean?!

I saw a meme a few weeks ago that claims the average person only has sex with 5 people in their lives. Word to the wise to take information via social media with the heaviest grain of salt. Cue the mind blown emoji at that possible theory though because, if true, myself and almost everyone I know is a loose slut.

I’m personally not talking dozens of suitors in and out my bedroom, but 5?! I’m sorry to reference it twice, but Samantha from Sex and the City would like a word. Now there was a busy woman, both business and pleasure.

In the last two months, I’ve been on dates with four different guys from four different walks of life. I generally have a few in the texts rotating around at all times, as indicated. It keeps my options open and keeps the adrenaline, testosterone and creativity flowing.

After having this constant internal debate with myself and never leaving home without my unhinged sense of humor, I pondered the psychology of why I’ve often been more hesitant to partake in casual dating.

Why was I being judgmental to myself about allowing the freedom and exploration of it all?

Pretty much everywhere worldwide, there are the easily pinpointed standards of society that set up the generic framework of finding ‘the one’ or having a soulmate or at the very least being linked to one person at a time or forever.

Most people are more open-minded in 2024 and have a ‘be safe, have fun’ mentality about it all.

However, there is still an underlying notion and judgment that being a little looser in your romantic escapades denotes a person of questionable morals and overall character. But that’s not the end all framework or guidelines many should or do live by.

As experience, the experience of others, pop culture and anything in our orbit teaches us, while casual sex may be fun and adrenaline-inducing, in addition to a good workout, it also will eventually leave you wondering what else there is.

Life cannot forever be just random encounters, but you have to experience them and the loneliness or passion that comes from one or the other to know the difference.

If this all feels like a very tangled web of confusion, neuroses, possibilities and raw sexuality, it’s because it absolutely is.

This shouldn’t be a surprise to me as someone with raging OCD; however, this is a quandary that we all go through as we figure out what we want. We’re also ever-changing individuals and the goal posts or checkpoints we set for ourselves are hilariously shaky at best as they can’t always be met.

What my recent moral dilemma and exploration of motives reiterated to me was there is no right or wrong (outside of blatantly ludicrous behavior) and there is no one size fits all. It’s something I know to be true in every aspect of life, but it takes on new meaning with time and circumstance.

So, if I want to be the equivalent of a monk in solitude for 6 months, working on my inner peace and discovering self-fulfillment, during one era of life and finding myself in the bedroom of a dozen suitors during the next 6 months, I guess I’ll call that balance? Or maybe this is proof that we’re giving the term ‘delulu’ all the mileage we can.

Cosmic Moon Power: The Road to Being a Confident Gay Man

The title is a reference to the 90s’ anime show Sailor Moon, which was a very feminine show about female heroes fighting evil forces. It is a nostalgic relic for me and definitely an early sign of my sexuality. Tuxedo Mask? I swoon.

Pride Month is upon us and, recent outrage and backlash against the rainbow section at Target aside, it truly is a colorful time to celebrate who we are as members of the LGBTQIA+ community, as well as trying to spread awareness and acceptance day in and day out.

I don’t mean to begin this like a Hallmark movie, but that is the goal no matter how trivialized and superficial things can get from phony corporate displays of support to the internal moral quarrels among us in the community to days of thousands of gays partying in cities with no clothes on after taking excessive shots of Don Julio. It’s hard to argue about the significance of Pride hearing about what’s happening in the dark corner of a Hell’s Kitchen bathroom, but hey – we’re living our truth!

All the heavier stuff aside though, I thought about myself as a gay man and how I got here. I do believe I was born this way (not Lady Gaga’s finest IMO – I said what I said!), but I also believe a significant portion of my affinity for the same sex was nuture and the environment I was surrounded in throughout childhood and adolescence.

What led me to that place if not purely higher power-given sexuality? Below are a few moments in time.

Testosterone Overload: I’ve read a statistic that men with one or more older brothers have a higher disposition towards being gay – known as the ‘fraternal birth order effect’; given the billions of guys with older brothers that very much straight, I question the validity of that research; however, it worked out that way for me with only one brother. Despite my own friends, I frequently tagged along with my brother and his cohorts for a few years. Being a few years my senior, they were going through different things than I and my eyes were opened to the testosterone-fueled future ahead. From allocating porn when porn was harder (wink, wink) to come by legally to quite frequently flashing their dicks to me as I gather from many is the way it goes pubescent boys in displays of homo-eroticism, I was introduced to many visuals. One of his friends at 14 had a bigger penis than some grown men I’ve met – whew. Either way, these were some of the early moments that got the wheels turning in my developing brain about sex, the male anatomy and certainly pushed me towards same-sex desire.

Calvin, Tommy & Polo: Ah, a tale as old as time to be a curious, potentially fluid 12-year-old perusing the underwear aisle of a Macy’s, JC Penney’s etc. I knew full well the allure of the section I was entering. Seeing the male models plastered on the walls and undergarment packaging was enough to take me from six o’clock to midnight OKAY! Forgive me, that was crass and corny, but this is a certain type of post so you know… adjust your expectations. From the toned muscles to the model’s package, the PR for Calving Klein knew/knows the ease and marketing of selling such a product. They might be thinking the advertisement to some men is saying ‘This could be you – in these briefs!’ even though most men will never look like said models given rigid beauty standards and such. But to my growing, questioning self, it made me think ‘I want to see what’s inside… and get inside’. Again, I’m sorry, but I was a teen full of wonder and hormones, what can I say? Tyson Beckford is still top tier.

Tasting the Flavors: That was not a Skittles reference. I understand sexuality is a spectrum and things like fluidity, the ever-dissolving notion of gender norms/roles are real concepts to grapple with. Young boys can play with Barbies and young girls can play softball and whatever other outdated stereotypes we could rattle off. I had a diverse set of tastes, ranging from soccer and Power Rangers to the aforementioned Sailor Moon and soap operas like Days of Our Lives, thanks to my mother. But let’s be real: most straight men aren’t growing up becoming entranced by the outlandish, quasi-romantic plots of daytime television, complete with strapping guys that never needed a reason to be without a shirt. This constantly reiterated the glory of the male physique into my atmosphere. Movies like Clueless, 10 Things I Hate About You and You’ve Got Mail were mainstays on my DVD player – classics among everyone far and wide, but again, how many straight guys are enjoying the fine acting talents of Meg Ryan and Julia Stiles in their prime? We were blessed to see Julia back on-screen in Hustlers is all I know.

Neither Gryffindor nor Slytherin: That was my terrible attempt at incorporating Harry Potter into a tale of me not feeling like I belonged to any group at various points in my adolescence. It doesn’t matter if you’re straight, gay, bisexual or kangaroo – everyone feels awkward and adrift at certain points of these years, even when surrounded by friends. For me though, I felt like my sexuality led me to a place where during high school and college years, I was always uneasy about my place in things despite having an abundance of connections. Before college, I felt a lack of acceptance from the guys because even though they thought I was fun and funny, they had speculation about the gay of it all and I wasn’t the most macho guy; consequently, you’re not always first pick in dodgeball. With the girls, there was more of an embrace, which I only returned halfway because I knew the gender stereotypes and gossipy bullshit that came with it. During college, it was easier and I had plenty of male and female friends, but some of those issues lingered. At that point though, I gave much less of a shit and was just trying to live my life, but didn’t let my rainbow flag fly fully still because I didn’t feel wholeheartedly comfortable or accepted. With time, you overcome the insecurities because life is short, but it was a part of learning to love who I am fully… any less than macho qualities and delicate tendencies aside.

Between a Tit & a Hard C*ck: In line with what I just wrote, high school was not my time to shine sexually as I was a bit awkward and uncomfortable in my skin as goes the way with teenagers, never mind their sexuality. Once college hit though and the Smirnoff was flowing most nights of the week, I was ready to ride… and by ride I mean fuck. Yes or yes? I wound up hooking up with a few girls – unfortunate that none of us couldn’t read between my confused lines, but we’re all confused at that age about many things and Red Bull and vodka is a hell of way to cloud judgment. I did enjoy the experiences and still to the day find many women beautiful and never say never; however, I wound up meeting the first truly openly gay guy that was comfortable in his skin, a friend of friend. After our sporadic hookups, I felt a sense of liberation that made me realize I skewed more towards the same sex and an acceptance of myself that gave me all the confidence to be who I was with, regardless of outside influences.

All of these pieces of my history truly did lead me to the version of myself today. I’m a man living his life like anyone else that just happens to be gay. I’ve had few qualms about my sexuality and who I am since the college years, but it’s still an ever-changing experience.

I’ve learned so much about myself, the community, the internal dynamics for better and worse, concepts like fluidity, non-binary and so many other things I didn’t know about even 10 years ago. To never stop learning and growing is the goal – a whole element of Pride Month.

Would I have turned out to be a member of this rainbow community without an older brother and his hormonal friends, less viewings of General Hospital and less trips down the speedo aisle? Maybe, maybe not.

I’m not thinking much of it, but I know these are all things that made me want to know what was hiding in Shemar Moore’s briefs – aging like fine wine that man is.

All the Flavors: Dating Archetypes

One of the most relevant and shared tropes of being back out on the market after ending a long-term relationship is the foray back into dating apps – Bumble, Hinge, Scruff, but never Plenty Of Fish (have some self-respect).

Whether your gay, straight, bisexual or ambiguous, it is both exhilarating and exhausting out in these streets.

The dating experience of your teens, 20s and beyond is an educational, colorful journey and even more vast are the set of characters you encounter in your many travels to bars, restaurants, coffee shops, bowling alleys, arcades, museums and carnivals across the tri-state area.

It’s no big revelation that with age, the trial and error or going on however many dates teaches you a thing or two about what you want out of your romantic dalliances and the type of personalities you might be attracted to.

That usually changes over time too. I, for example, used to be on my Fatal Attraction flow to someone who looked like Pauly D from Jersey Shore, but these days, find me someone on the same page as a Shemar Moore or Victor Cruz (complete with the salsa moves) and I’d be content.

From blatant assholes to the overly endearing to walking Petri dishes to beautiful morons to actually well-adjusted civilians, the range is broad.

Animal Attraction: There are some suitors you cross paths with at the right time and place where the physical/sexual chemistry is palpable – it’s unexplainable. The hope is that with a true, long-term partner, you can have this great vibe as well, but it seems these bonds are usually a little more fleeting – you can’t have everything. You catch their eyes and it is GAME ON. They might not even be your ‘type’ and you might have no business interacting anywhere outside of a bedroom, bathroom, alley way or crawl space, but that’s good enough for the moment. All you know is you will see this person naked before the night is over. In my experience, a couple of shots of tequila are usually also involved in this equation. These situations might last one night or become a steady fwb (friends with benefits) situation where there are no expectations, except taking your clothes off 20 minutes after making pointless small talk about their day.

Pseudo-Sweet Nothings: This is a classic prototype and the most common one out in the dating world for men and women alike. Sometimes, you don’t even know you’re getting charmed aka low-key bullshitted until something has gone terribly wrong, like a prescription to clear up a rash. This person just wants to fuck and that’s all well and good, but they feel the need to put up grand pretenses (like a desire to know you on a deeper level). In truth, they’re doing not only you, but themselves a disservice because there’s a percentage of the time you’re not looking for more than sex anyway, but their con artist shenanigans can turn you off from even entertaining the idea. There is a lot of slick talk (and mouths) here and amusing, witty banter. In your early 20s, you will encounter this and either be deceived long enough to be hoodwinked or know better and cut your losses. At 30+, you already recognize that game from the starting line.

Pure Innocence: Truly good natured, sweet and with not one bad bone in their body (except maybe some BDSM fetish you’ll soon find out about), this is a genuinely endearing soul. They might be green in the dating game, social inept or still exploring their sexuality and seeing what works for them. Whatever the case, you almost want to handle them with such tender love and care and not break their heart because they are innocent and have a kind aura. Personally, I spent every weekend of a summer with this type some years back and I still have a soft spot for him in my heart. We weren’t ever going to work because I needed a little more zest from my prospective partner, but to this day, I would throw a punch for this person. I’m not a fighter, but don’t mess with good people.

Take A Number: Unlike the bullshit artist mentioned above, this type of person many a time isn’t actively trying to be a scumbag. They just have no interest in anything beyond casual hookups and, much of the time, will be very forthcoming with that information with or without inquiry. This really does kill any uncertainty faced in other territories and really sets the tone for casual flings or full blown infatuation. Unfortunately, the latter seems to be the case about 90% of the time because in some way, we want that elusive prize. More than that, it’s just the cruel comedy of the world that these folks are usually attractive, exude the right amount of confidence and humor and maybe even come across like a great package – they might even have one of those too (hey now).

Beautifully Hollow: Forgive me, but I once went on a date with someone who thought that Europe was a country – do you know what I mean? I can barely do math beyond fractions and understand we all have our strengths and weaknesses, but I audibly laughed at said person. I am an asshole – I accept it. There is a type of person who is very handsome or gorgeous and their looks, money and/or perhaps athletic ability have allowed them to get by without giving too much essential thought to anything else, like reading a book. Consequently, conversations with them can be fun and eye-opening, but you can tell there won’t be anything other than surface level connection and maybe a quick dip into that after hours pool. Really though, I mean a pool, like when I spent the night at a Hilton for free with a stunningly handsome actor that my company worked with.

Ships Passing in the Night: Missed connections is another way to describe this situation. Life is all about timing and how true it can be in our sex/love affairs. There can be genuine connection, enthusiasm for potential future dates and hopeful possibility, but the factors just don’t seem to be adding up in your favor. During my early days on OkCupid years ago, I went on a handful of dates with someone that I immediately felt a connection to. It was undeniable. After a couple months, he was unexpectedly offered a chance to work in Paris and who is anyone to pass that up? We always remained friendly and I was over it as quickly as it began, but I have wondered occasionally what could have happened.

Walk of Shame: They say if you haven’t had at least one walk of shame in your hookup experience, you haven’t done it right. I think that’s just a scapegoat for reformed (or current) promiscuous folks to feel less guilty or insecure about how many times they’ve strolled out of a stranger’s apartment building at 8AM on a Wednesday looking like they just got gang-banged at a rave while everyone else is on their way to work – I’m not speaking from experience, just imagining. In these moments, you might have set out with the intentions of winding up said person’s bed, but when you wake up in a hungover daze and see your one-time lover, you might still be astounded by your own behavior and shiver in disbelief. Many of us have played the asshole in this scenario as the person might genuinely be into you, but you either provide polite transparency or completely ghost them. Over the years, I’ve made it a point to not ghost dates afterwards because it’s unnecessarily rude, but… it’s been Halloween in April a few times is all I’m saying.

Winner, Winner: Amidst the crowd and usually when you’re least expecting it after becoming disillusioned with the dating game may come the more significant, life-changing love affairs. All three of my long-term relationships have been with people that I initially was chatting with very passively. With the most recent, I was on the verge of deleting my dating apps because at the time, it had been almost a year since my previous partner and I went on dates with about 25 guys. That sounds like a lot… and it was a lot. Regardless, in this situation, I wasn’t holding much hope for anything because I had seen all the colors of the rainbow (insert cliché gay joke #147), but sometimes you are pleasantly surprised. Some of the people out there value your time, the intricacies of your personality and have a genuine interest in every part of your story. Even if they don’t last a lifetime, these types make you understand that the joy and terror that is the dating world has its risks, but also meaningful rewards if you’re lucky and patient.

Whether you’ve went on ten dates or two hundred, been with the same person since college or have seen the fine details of more New York City apartments in the wee hours of the morning than you care to admit, the dating game is something we all must partake in.

Some dates I’ve left knowing I’ll never call or even text that person again because my time and theirs is valuable and you come to understand that tenfold here.

Others I’ve weighed the pros and cons on in spending another $60 (I’m on a budget) on dinner and drinks to dig a little deeper into what could come from another night at a shady locale in the West Village.

And then there’s some that have just felt right and, no matter the outcome, were worth the time and experience.

Just don’t hop on a booze cruise on your first date because if things go awry in the first hour, you really have no escape route – trust me.

More than Rainbows & Circuit Parties: Perks of Being a Gay Man

I knew I was gay by the time I was 10. There were some early signs I can recall.

I loved to watch Days of Our Lives, a soap opera my mom enjoyed that happened to work with my childhood afternoon schedule and our shared love of Cup O’Noodles (for a brief moment in time just Cup Noodles, who knew?) My salt intake as a growing boy was HEAVY.

I played with a wide assortment of action figures, but particularly loved my Sailor Moon dolls – well, they were action figures, but people would call them dolls. Power Rangers were another top contender, but now I’m just reminiscing.

These are just two of many small moments that anyone – straight, gay, bisexual or other – could partake in and it doesn’t mean a thing because children are children, but I knew.

I would say a huge component of my inclination for same-sex relations came from the fact that I had an older brother with friends that regularly flashed me as it goes with hormonal teenage boys. There are many semi-homoerotic moments in these years. What can I say – I became curious!

Like anyone in this world, sans sexuality, it took many years to become comfortable in my own skin. Add being a homosexual man to the mix and I had to learn how to operate as a person going through adolescence in general, but then also as someone who knew very well of the societal views around me.

Bigotry surrounding the LGBTQ community is far from gone, especially growing up in a place like I did that lacked diversity and all but promoted ‘traditional’ mindsets. The macho mentality was very substantial and while I didn’t particularly care about being the most masculine guy, I also wanted to be accepted and not seen as ‘feminine’ or a ‘pussy’.

With time, life experience and a better sense of self, you come to appreciate all the aspects of your personality and even come to appreciate the rocky road you had to take to get there. In my case, being gay isn’t a part of my personality – it’s one of my true essences as much as being Italian and Irish is.

It’s funny the way life works though that with enough trial and error and knowledge of the world, I’m not only proud of who I am, but also relieved.

There are certain aspects of being a straight man that I do not envy or have any desire to be a part of. We are all made up of much more than our sexual preferences (hopefully), but on the topic, I’ve laughed at how full circle the mentality has been. These are some trivial and meaningful reasons why.

No Plan B: Close to the top of the benefits of being a gay man for me anyway is the absence of unplanned pregnancies. How many of us know at least five friends or acquaintances who now have a kid or two that wasn’t planned? Or with someone they didn’t know well? Plan B is a lifesaver sometimes as an old associate who jokingly called herself ‘Fertile Myrtle’ knew all too well (horrible, but effective). If the woman wants to keep the baby though, I’ve watched some friends go through the shock and acceptance process. Life is unpredictable and not wearing a condom is a shaky game that can lead to a bundle of joy making its way – cue that Knocked Up scene with Seth Rogen and Katherine Heigl. I know enough walking testaments of friends that are now much more careful in their sexual dalliances… I’m just saying.

Bro Life: Like I said, growing up for most guys comes with the collective pressure to ‘act like a man’, not be a ‘wuss’, bench press unnecessary weights and objectify women at every chance. I have a well-rounded sense of humor, but there are boundaries. I never gave too much credence to this, but didn’t want to be thought of as ‘acting like a girl’ for less than macho behaviors. On the contrary though, I love being a man – so much so it seems that I want to be with other men. However, we are all multi-faceted and even the guys that act differently behind closed doors and have the need to say ‘no homo’ after complimenting a friend are a mix of masculinity and femininity. Being gay and proud in this regard is the ultimate freedom. I could be as flamboyant as I want, stroll the streets with rainbow nail polish and high heels without concern of these perceptions. Hey girl, hey!

This is My House: Possibly a bit contradictory to the masculinity factor, but not sharing a home with a woman comes with some relief – no offense to all my beautiful, kind, amazing female friends of course (side eye). There are some habits that, as a man, I can freely do and not be worried about hearing it from my wife or girlfriend. Enter the bathroom – the ultimate of home and lifestyle battlegrounds for men and women. You know one stereotype that doesn’t hold up? Men being messier than women. Have you SEEN some of the makeup bombs that have been set off in these bathrooms? I’ve walked into the bathrooms of many family and friends and just thought ‘holy shit’. They apologize for the mess, you say you don’t care because you don’t, but also, don’t ever complain about the toilet seat being left up again. Leaving the toilet seat up is my luxury. Unless I need to take a load off (too much?), that toilet seat is staying up 24/7. It’s simple, but I’m lazy and the relief felt from it not even being on my radar is bliss.

No Stranger Danger: Speaking of the male and female interactions, this one is definitely a double-edged sword. On one hand, a lot of girls will treat gay men with reckless abandon because they’re pretty sure there’s no real possibility of you being ‘just another guy’ who’s trying to get in their pants and/or who has an ulterior motive in being around them. This is nice to some degree, but can also be a little unintentionally rude, degrading and shows a level of ignorance about the experience of a gay man. I’ve been called a ‘GBF’ (gay best friend) by a few of my close, female friends and while I’m not offended, there are certain implications and preconceived notions that title has. Either way, on the positive end, it’s nice to just be yourself whole-heartedly, show emotions without worry, talk about how attractive Michael B. Jordan is and discuss the intricacies of The Real Housewives. I haven’t watched much of it recently because I’m trying retain the last of my brain cells, but I still know all about the Erika Jayne case.

Resilience: There are pivotal aspects and moments of adversity that will build your resilience, allowing you to become better equipped and more knowledgeable in future endeavors. Learning how to accept myself as a gay man, dealing with hateful words, potential assault and the whole grocery cart full of insecurities was one of the factors that helped me build a tough skin. There were other areas of my life that have cultivate this capability to bounce back in the face of hardship, but my journey of being a gay man is up there. I see this is as one of the best takeaways from being part of the LGBTQ community. I know how to weave through the nonsense of life with more ease because I know what it’s like to be in a dark hole mentally and almost unable and unaware of how I was going to make it past that moment. People find this strength and awareness in a variety of circumstances. For me, one of them was coming to terms with my sexual identity in the world. There is a commonality among many members of the community that, even though life is hard, we are proud to be who we are because we know the trip to get there.

Come One, Come All: Being a part of any marginalized group of people means that you know what it’s like to be treated differently for a part of yourself that you cannot (and with time don’t want) to change. Being gay made me open and accepting of people from all walks of life. It was and still is a learning curve on becoming less ignorant and more understanding of different backgrounds, but you have less judgmental ways because you know all anyone really wants is acceptance. I don’t know anyone’s backstory and unless they’re egregiously rude or hostile to me, why am I going to not take the opportunity to know them better? People are always apologizing for who they are or any petty behavior they think might be unappealing to others. The amount of times I’ve said ‘Oh please, I don’t care’ or ‘You’re fine’ to friends and strangers alike is unreal – and I really mean it. This is one of the best gifts that has come with being a gay man. I’m not closed off and those barriers dissipated a long time ago. What is a life if it’s not well-rounded and diverse in the company you keep? Surrounding yourself with all the same would be bland, restrictive and unprogressive. Come as you are.

Being gay. Again, it’s just one of the many true essences of my person, my soul and who I am in this world. It’s not my whole entity though.

However, being proud of who I am and being myself in general is something that has come with some unexpected benefits – both ridiculous and important.

Overall though, the freedom and joy that comes with being a proud gay man in a chaotic world as ours brings me back to this quote, “If I could have chosen to be gay or straight, I think I would have simply chosen to be happy”.

Bumbling Around: Takeaways from Dating Apps

Back in 2013, I was in my early 20s, single, full of energy and tequila and ready to have my ‘hoe phase’. If you’ve ever been so lucky or unfortunate depending on your outlook to not have a period of promiscuity in your life… well, I salute you for your self-control and intact dignity.

Fresh off my first breakup, a friend introduced me to OkCupid (a relic as far as dating apps go in 2022) and I was LOVING it. There was more personality involved than the simple profiles of Tinder and you got a chance to know someone for more than twenty minutes at the bar sans blaring music.

For the next two years on and off, with one short-term relationship in between, I was a walking testament of the success that OkCupid could bring and really missed out on my endorsement deal.

I went on dates with upwards of 50 potential suitors, wasted easily thousands of dollars all across the tristate area, got drunker on half those dates than was necessary and slept with a handful of people that, had I not been invested in online dating, probably never would have.

I don’t have many regrets in life, but those two one-night stands really make me shiver. I don’t fancy myself the cover of GQ magazine, but… you have to have some standards. What can I say? Thy name is vanity.

Fast forward to this wild year that has been 2022. The New Year truly came in with a bang as my relationship of 6 years was at a crossroads. It was heartbreaking, eye-opening and a list of all the other stock adjectives I could use to describe the situation. It felt like another death in my life.

The breakup was unfortunate for many reasons, one of which was because we had a great bond and our personalities meshed quite well, but outside factors that needed to be taken care of took precedence.

Forever being a silver linings guy, I realized that moments like that are ones of necessary reflection and accountability.

It does take two in a relationship, but for my part, I had to swallow an almost indigestible pill that I fucked up and that hurt me more than anything because it felt avoidable.

But alas, I was single again. It was weird. No matter the circumstances of a relationship ending, many can agree that loss of consistency and comfortability really rocks you to your core. To have someone by your side, supporting you and living life with you ripped away is jarring to say the least.

So, what’s the first thing many of us do in 2022 when we’re back on the market? You hop on Bumble, Hinge and all the other dating apps and let the good, ugly and creepy times roll.

In 2013, my foray into OkCupid was a learning experience. I was green to the game and, aside from not being inexperienced enough to get catfished or anything extreme, I had a lot to absorb.

But now? In 2022 and being a little older? The approach is so different.

Dating apps are, in my opinion, a complete time killer and a feast for the eyes more than anything. If I’m waiting at the doctor’s office, rolling around in bed at night or just being a testosterone-driven man looking for a little excitement, Hinge and Bumble are but a tap and swipe away.

In the younger years, the dating world feels more high-stakes. Sure, now things can feel more high-stakes as we get older and aspects like marriage, home ownership and children have taken center stage.

But as far as dating apps, it feels unnecessary to put that kind of pressure on it that we might have at 22. Everything felt much more do or die and if someone ghosted you, you’d let it bother you more than it should have. At 30+, I do not give a damn.

You know how to spot a bullshitter (and they are aplenty), you have more of an idea of what you’re looking for and are both simultaneously excited and exhausted with the monotonous swiping left and right.

One of the reasons it’s exhausting is because of how flaky many people come across and because of how easy it is to be that fickle when there are thousands of potential suitors with every swipe. Technology at its finest, right? There may be a thing as too much connection.

With that, I came to immediately realize that was one of the many reasons my breakup sucked. After a week of being back on Bumble, I recognized how little interest I had in the dating game, particularly with the apps.

They’re fun and the possibility of going on some carefree dates gets the adrenaline (and other things) pumping, but I also have let out many audible sighs during the process.

Like I said, nothing will make you appreciate that consistency and security of loving relationships tenfold than having to hop back into the pandemonium that is online dating.

I took a step back and just remembered this was all a part of the process of trying to move forward. In addition to working on things in my career, my eternal battle for that summer body (I have a few months to look my most mediocre), therapy and such, I decided to give more conscious energy to my Hinge experience.

I felt like doing more than just swiping left and right – I wanted to make more effort to find people I could connect with. Now, whether that was for something casual or serious is irrelevant – because that’s my business (Tabitha Brown reference iykyk).

Of course, there is a very colorful wheel of characters to be found. As always is the way, those you’re interested in are giving you vague responses at best and those you’re uninterested in are sending you overzealous messages with too many exclamation points! Calm down, Bryan – it’s just chocolate cake. I do love chocolate cake though, but you get me.

I’ve always considered myself an egalitarian. I am a white, gay man and any long-term relationship I’ve been in has happened to be with black men. It just is what it is. On the casual side though, I have run the gamut and engaged with people from all walks of life, from New York to Jamaica to India and beyond. I never felt any type of exclusivity in my attitude and as long as the vibe was right and the person was attractive (again, I’m very vain), I’ve been open.

However, I happened to pass some profiles and really pause on why I almost immediately swiped left. One was a man who happened to use a walker and another was someone with a visible skin condition.

Upon taking a look at these two individuals though and reading through their profiles, I smiled a bit and thought they both seemed like they could be worth striking up a conversation with. After all, who the hell are ANY of us to judge? Who was I? I’m a tall, lanky redhead with a big nose and an occasionally (regularly) offensive sense of humor.

We all have some type of bias in our heads – these are just facts. You don’t have to be raised on a diet of racism, homophobia, sexism or other kind of bigotry to have these thoughts. They can just occur based on your experience in the world.

But what we do with those inklings of intolerance is what makes the difference.

The guy with the walker made me analyze the ignorance at play. From a primal instinct approach, most of us without much thought imagine ourselves with someone that is able-bodied and stable so to speak. Someone with a disability can do everything; however, some activities may require some assistance or sacrifice. Isn’t the idea of compromise or sacrifice a big part of any relationship though?

I felt like an asshole thinking about this because disabled folks are just trying to live life like we all are, don’t want pity and just want to be seen as ‘normal’. The guy was funny, attractive and someone who I’d go on a date with.

The guy with the skin condition was another story. My initial kneejerk thought was coming from a strictly vain, ignorant place. Growing up, I never thought much of anyone that looked different than myself. My parents weren’t like that and always just gave very matter of fact statements when asked about someone ‘different’.

We all have eyes though. You immediately notice someone who doesn’t have ‘regular’ skin. But so what? I wouldn’t or shouldn’t pass up the opportunity to possible connect with someone because of something like that.

This person probably has/had insecurities growing up with that, especially because kids can be cruel, and already came into their own skin – pun intended. They’ve probably become very content with themselves and could teach us all a thing or two.

Sitting back and thinking about why I almost immediately swiped left on both guys opened my eyes a little more about basic human decency and consideration. If I really considered myself an equal opportunist, what makes anyone different than another?

To be fully well-rounded, knowledgeable and progressive in life, a person needs to let go of any expectations, preconceived notions or rigid standards. This comes from an assortment of education through reading, TV/film and most importantly – surrounding ourselves with a diverse collection of people and mindsets.

Dating apps. They are a comical piece of our advancing world. They are convenient and effective, but also bizarre. They though, like anything, are what you make of it and, in my experience, shouldn’t be taken as a life or death situation.

I’ve ran the gamut on dating apps, from casually hooking up with strangers to learning who I did/didn’t want to making unexpected friends to having a happy, loving, profound relationship.

But now that I’m back on the prowl, my pursuit has hit a place of more consciousness and without waxing poetic here, it’s refreshing.

We’re all a work in progress though. So, if I wind up with someone very similar again, just know I at least did it with mindful intentions – sometimes the heart wants what the heart wants and who am I to refuse?

Pride & Privilege: Different Strokes for Different Folks

Last week, I came home from a long, rainy Memorial Day Weekend. I sat down for some cathartic relaxation and wound up watching Moonlight, a movie I had always heard about the cultural impact of and amazing reviews for, but had never seen – and I call myself a movie junkie with my AMC Stubs membership!

Coincidentally as midnight came and went, we entered June and were officially in another month or Pride Month as so many proudly know and celebrate.

It was pure happenstance, but also gave me pause for what this movie and month meant about me, my story of growing up, coming out as a gay man and my journey. More so though, this movie made me think about another corner of the world that I’ve never been a part of and had never had to encounter the likes of.

Sure, I too grew up with addiction, homophobia and a couple of other less appealing aspects of life, but it wasn’t on the level this movie depicted.

Now, while I’m not some sheltered recluse that has never seen anything outside of my own little nook of the world and understands to some degree how different something like homosexuality is viewed and approached in various communities, it made me think about its significance more than usual – and how fairly uninformed I was.

Historically, I’ve dated and been attracted to black and brown guys. It’s just been what it is for a long time. As such, I’ve learned through some poorly chosen words and trial and error moments about how unalike the experiences of my partners have been and their own fearful, insecurity-ridden tales of trying to be their true selves in a world that isn’t the epitome of acceptance.

Like any member of the LGBTQ community, I’ve had many of them tell me of the terrifying distress of coming out and the implications it would have.

Deeper than that, some have recalled tales of being on the outs with their family for some time as a result as their revelations, even being ex-communicated for some time.

Some have gotten in physical fights over it and been treated viciously like Chiron in Moonlight.

Religious traditions, antiquated beliefs about gender roles and worry about what the outside world would think have played a part in their families’ disapproval, outrage and mistreatment.

And then of course, on the other side, some have had a more amicable reception and it was a seamless adjustment. Their families loved them regardless.

Watching Moonlight evoked many deep emotions from me. I felt so deeply connected to and so empathetically sad for this boy/man who was so poorly treated for who he was and felt that he had to put on a façade for years to come as a result.

Granted, if you’ve seen this movie, you know that while left fairly open-ended, we’re led to believe that he’s at the start of a more self-accepting and hopefully happier life.

As I said though, I thought about my life as a gay man, the minor mistreatment I’ve faced over the years and the societal expectations that had me frightened for a long time to really live freely. It also made me realize that I have had it pretty damn good in comparison and how privileged I am to have family and friends that, some ignorant situations aside, weren’t deeply phased my affinity for other men.

At the risk of sounding any type of tone deaf or oblivious, I hadn’t thought much about how the color of my skin may have played a role in this because whether black, white, Latino, Asian etc., I know real stories of many white men and women being shunned for their sexuality.

But I would remiss and ignorant to not appreciate and understand that coming from a certain walk of life, regardless of inherent prejudice, probably worked in my favor.

Growing up, I wasn’t really bullied per se. I had friends, a social life, played a couple sports for a while and was by whatever ‘normal’ standards, a regular kid.

I knew I was gay or at the very least bisexual by the age of 10. I blame my older brother’s friends for constantly exposing themselves to me as goes it with the hormonal antics of teenage boys. I became curious!

A few kids at school poked fun at the way I walked, some mannerisms I displayed and my overall demeanor. I hear/see stories of the savage bullying some kids go through and thank God that I never experienced it on that level. I was just labeled a ‘faggot’ by some kind folk and honestly, while insulting, if that was the worst I got, I was not concerned.

There were some casual insults and empty threats thrown my way that I was slightly bothered by, but didn’t deter my true self from being free behind closed doors – a bit of an oxymoron.

Despite that, gay, straight or attracted to the air conditioner, we all want to fit in and as such, I was never going to be my true, gay self in high school. College was barely even my time to shine, but definitely better. And when I say I ‘true, gay self’, I don’t mean waving a rainbow flag, saying ‘yass’ and the lot – I just mean being me.

My parents were very blasé about pretty much everything and didn’t ever try to instill thoughts about what a man ‘should be’, gender roles and masculinity overall. The outside world was really more of the judge and jury that I was worried about.

I was always me in every other which way – so why should this be different? By the time I was 19 or 20, that was really the tipping point in my head.

I relay this small snapshot of my teenage years and my coming to terms with who I was in a world of ignorance and judgment because that too, in addition to Moonlight, made me realize my privilege in how good I had/have it.

A month ago, the name Alireza Fazeli Monfared was splashed all over the headlines and on the news for an extended period. A gay man from Iran who was allegedly kidnapped and beheaded for his sexuality, it is said that the killing reportedly was the doing of male family members who found his lifestyle abhorrent and immoral to put it lightly.

Probably one of the more heartbreaking aspects of this story is that it was reported Monfared was days away from seeking refuge with his partner somewhere in Europe.

Iran, in addition to a slew of other countries, is a place where same-sex relations are illegal and can result in horrific punishment.

America is a complete disaster in its own ways for sure and as far as hate crimes, they are still abundant and underreported. However, there comes some solace and appreciation in knowing that things are a great deal more progressive here… usually.

From movies representing the underserved and repressed communities of some locations to the fact that homosexuality or general queer lifestyles are illegal and punishable in enough countries worldwide, it all made me realize how privileged I am to live where I live and how you always must keep perspective. That brings me to Pride Month.

Pride Month has two sides – partying it up in a city full of all kinds of members of the community and allies alike… and then the more meaningful, historical, relevant aspects of the moment.

It’s easy to forget the history, the fight we are still enduring and the deeper meanings of what it means to celebrate Pride Month amidst all the rainbow colored floats, bottomless brunches, barely dressed LGBTQ members and companies trying to make a dime off the gays by showing their ‘support’ in half-assed ways for a month out of the year.

It almost just feels like a very surface level celebration of gay people for a month – more so really for a weekend.

The Pride Parade is NY is the central, memorable festivity to attend and I’ve never partaken in more than hitting some bars with some friends, getting drunk and hooking up with a few strangers. I quite frankly don’t think I’ve ever seen more than 10 minutes of the parade route before hitting a brunch.

However, my perspective has shifted the last couple of years, particularly with more worldwide issues like COVID-19 and then even with more thought-provoking moments like watching a movie about a mistreated, gay, black man or a real-life story about a man murdered for his sexuality.

It’s made me want to become a bigger part of the effort, any effort, some effort – something.

I don’t know where that starts truth be told, but having a little more self-awareness about how privileged I am in this particular regard and wanting to see better for the community is a start.

The tree of acceptance, sexual freedom and overall privilege has so many branches. I choose to feel grateful to live somewhere that, although still a long way to go, gay marriage is legal and my experience is more legitimized through so many avenues than it was 10, 15 or 20 years ago. It might feel like nonsense at times, but I always choose to see the silver linings.

More than that, I have recognized my privilege a little more and hope to help other people that don’t have the same.

Part of that assistance comes through spreading awareness, dispelling ignorance and ultimately, just being our genuine selves because when people who are afraid to do so themselves see such casual, but brazen confidence, they might feel inclined to live a freer life too. It all truly can start with the smallest of gestures.

Did Chiron and Kevin end up together after the movie though? That’s really one question I want answered. If not, what are we even doing here?

Resilience Part 1: Clearing the Gates

‘Redheaded stepchild’ and ‘fire crotch’ were two phrases etched into my brain by middle school. I was never really offended by either of them, but remember sitting with the words a handful of times and wondering about their significance. I understand the basic meaning of ‘fire crotch’, but hopefully you get my drift.

Aside from the regular social worries a child has, standing out as a result of my hair color was something I came to be very aware of. But by the time I was twelve or thirteen, I loved my red hair and my freckles. In a probably then-arrogant way, I relished in the fact that it made me more noticeable. It’s a trademark quality.

That was my first dabble with insecurities and wondering why any differences were poked at and dealing with matters of self-esteem/awareness. What an immature and superficial thing to be concerned about – appearance – but such is the experience of growing up. It was my first true experience in resilience.

Resilience. What exactly is it? Everyone has their own definition.

We experience a revolving door of ordeals in life. Whether that’s on a minor scale with something as shallow and ultimately insignificant as looks or a more major scale like financial struggles, relationship woes, life and death and everything in between.

What makes the difference is how we bounce back after shit has hit the fan and we’ve been overcome with overbearing mental agony as the result of our circumstances. It’s a bone that takes days, weeks, months and years to grow and fine tune. How do you handle what life throws your way?

In my teenage and college years, I came to encounter two much bigger, more intricately layered problems than someone making me momentarily feel weird about my physical appearance – imagine that.

Sexuality

Being an adolescent, you want to be accepted, you want to find your people and you just want things to go smoothly. Hormones have you feeling all types of joy, lust, fear and irritation that you don’t even know what to do with half the time.

Adding on the task of hiding and how to handle my sexuality and what I assumed could be disastrous outcomes was a hefty hurdle. I didn’t want to be ostracized and degraded for my same-sex affinity. Looking back, many friends would say they had an idea that I was same-sex oriented in our teenage years and in retrospect, it’s kind of comically comforting. In the moment though, I was a wreck.

Like I said, one of the cornerstones the teenage psyche is acceptance. So, many situations for me were clouded by wanting to make sure I presented myself as who I was, but never letting myself slip and allowing people to even get an inkling that I was gay. My normally straightforward, no bullshit self held this truth tight though.

College came and my sexuality was at the forefront of my anxieties. I definitely wasn’t going to come out in high school and while college was a little more mature, it still had plenty of the same silly themes.  

I was intensely worried about being rejected by my new friends who, due to all our time spent together in close proximity and constant moments of experiencing life together, had become like extended family.

The easygoing, bonding nature of drunken nights and growing together through happiness and distress in our college town was not enough for me to feel fully comfortable about revealing who I was.

It was a constant battle in my head of ‘just tell them’ and an incessant worry that saying the wrong thing or acting a little more ‘gay’ might turn people off.

At the time, the LGBTQ lifestyle was still being shakily accepted and the old school, antiquated views were still felt by many. It may sound silly to think a time as recent as 2010 was full of such ignorance, but once you’ve had a few friends use the word ‘faggot’ about a gay man in a malicious way or had them react uneasily when you mention being gay, you know different.

Eventually, after hooking up with a couple guys, I threw most of my insecurity out of the window and started telling most of my friends about myself any inebriated chance I got. It was terrifying, but also liberating. I received essentially 100% open arms and people who, even if they were unfamiliar with the homosexual landscape, were willing to try and overlook any preconceived notions for their good friend.

I still had plenty of nerves surrounding my sexuality and was worried about the world at large, but moved forward with the confidence that I had a tight circle of supportive friends. It a huge release and it felt great that they didn’t care if I was gay, straight or hippopotamus – listen, hippos need love too.

That was virtually the end of a decade-long battle with my identity and the beginning of a newfound sense of self. I felt confident in my skin, even if there were still people who didn’t agree with or respect my lifestyle. It wasn’t about them – it was about me. I had to be happy with who I was and the path I was taking in life.

Years of fear of rejection set me up perfectly to have a brazen approach to many other areas of life. As long as I’m not stepping on anyone in the process, I have to live life on my terms and I’m not going to be fully content or successful if I suppress any of my true colors. Yes, I do see the comedy of writing a metaphor about ‘colors’ in relation to being a member of a rainbow-flagged community. Sometimes the stars are aligned.

Addiction

By the time I was ten, my mother began to get entangled up in a vicious battle with alcoholism. It started with little things like dinners being ruined that almost burned the house down to more serious things like getting a couple of DUIs and many departures for rehab that never quite stuck for more than a few weeks upon returning home.

Those teenage years are so full of uncertainty and a desire for acceptance in various forms that anything that has potential to bring on judgment and rock the boat is to be avoided. This wasn’t ideal.

For a while, I was anti-social as a result of puberty-driven angst. So, the worry of having anyone over my house and seeing how belligerently drunk my mother got was not a concern. However, once I reached about 15, I became much more socially active and my house was the place to be for many years to come. There were moments that I was embarrassed to have friends over and worried about their perceptions.

Soon enough, I came to have little concern for what others thought about my mother’s alcoholism. If they had a problem, they could leave. This wasn’t about them and quite frankly, if they had seen her passed out on the floor half-naked with a bowl of food scattered everywhere once or twice, the potential shock became business as usual.

Going through a pivotal part of my youth with addiction being a main course was a sharp learning curve. Life was not a Nickelodeon movie. I became attuned to more harsh realities of the world. It brought out feelings of sadness, confusion, anger and resentment, but more than anything, it allowed me to grow that resilient bone a little more.

All in all, what can you do? I wasn’t in charge of this person’s life and aside from a normal sense of loving concern for her well-being, there was little in my power. We historically took bottles away that we’d find stashed in spots, but even after a while, I stopped doing that. What was that going to do? This was someone who was going to get their fix sooner or later.

I understood that everyone chooses their path in life. I became more compassionate towards others and their struggles. I became more open-minded and less judgmental because the truth was you never knew what went on behind closed doors. I became aware that the actions of most have little to do with anyone but themselves. And I learned that beyond being there for someone, they have to want to make positive changes for themselves ultimately. You are the leader of your ship – what’s the phrase? Who knows.

Part 2 next week (if you care to see this haphazard journey all the way through) covers the web of mental health, death and COVID-19. It doesn’t sound like a happy trio of topics off the cuff, but looks can be deceiving. No, you’re right – COVID-19 has been pretty point blank f*cking awful, but maybe I’ve just employed the tool of dissociation. Denial is a great healer. Keep reading to find out!

Shades of the Rainbow: A Story of Pride

Pride Month is in full swing, every single company possible is using the gays to make a buck, and to many, it’s another month dedicated to another cause. Shit, for a long time, I felt like it was essentially another month revolving around the history, struggle, rights and shaky freedom of a certain sector of people. But it’s a little more personal given that I am part of that unit being a gay man.

Pride Month is a month where over the last few years, I’ve become a bit more conscientious of its true meaning and why we’re so lucky to be alive during this time of liberty and progression, despite any pushback we may encounter along the way.

Living in America, you realize how fortunate you are that you’re able to (pretty much) freely love whoever you want and stand in your truth to get cliché with it. It’s so much more than a weekend of getting drunk and hooking up with strangers, although there’s plenty of that too, amiright?

I definitely had a couple of Pride weekends here in New York where I lived up to that typecast of being a young gay man that got very inebriated, hooked up with a couple of strangers and contributed to the Pride efforts in no way shape or form. Hell, I wasn’t even anywhere near the parade.

Out of context, this sounds like just another weekend of debauchery for many people alike, regardless of sexuality. But I was celebrating my freedom… with my tongue down someone’s throat. Sorry, not sorry?

It’s a sigh of relief to live in a country where you can show your lust or love for a member of the same sex without worry of arrest or capital punishment. Of course, there’s always potential, as we see daily in the news and real life, of ignorance and bigotry that can be directed your way, but ultimately, there’s still an understanding that our love is equal from all other standpoints.

Growing up, I came from a town outside of the city where old school values and masculinity reigned supreme. That aside, thankfully this wasn’t a town entrenched in religion. While many were cautiously open-minded, others were visibly averse to the LGBTQ lifestyle. They were fine as long as it wasn’t in their immediate vicinity, they kept a distance, made fun of it or a combination of all the above.

Having grown up with an older brother and many of his friends during the time where hormones ran rampant, I saw a lot of sexual images and pornos at a young age. A few of them quite regularly flashed their dicks as goes it with a lot of teenage boys. This was a deciding factor for me.

I always knew who I was in terms of sexuality, but lived with the classic anxieties and doubts that I wouldn’t be accepted. I thought things would change or I’d be ostracized and who wants that?

After my first gay encounter in at 19, I was fed up with any secrecy and shared my truth to my family and any friends any drunken chance I got. I still needed some extra courage for a bit. I was never the flamboyant or the rainbow flag waving type, but this was the ultimate release – don’t be dirty. Most people welcomed me with open arms, but I was still aware of the opposing values of some.

To this day, some of those younger notions prevail and a level of apprehension is subconsciously present when I might act a bit more ‘gay’ or flamboyant than usual. I don’t actively worry that I will be judged, but some old mentalities are still rooted in my brain.

It’s natural when you come from a town where growing up, homosexuality was an iffy topic and you were definitely called a ‘faggot’ for acting less than a ‘normal’ man or ‘like a girl’.

Trivial nonsense aside, I am very comfortable in my skin because after some time, you realize it’s about you and no one else. Any negativity is something for them to figure out, not you.

But I understand there’s still heavy obliviousness and prejudice present, as well as much progress to be made – for myself as well.

After really coming into my own, I dove into dating, went to gay bars, hooked up with various guys and explored shades of the rainbow – all puns intended. My eyes were opened to many new things and I learned a lot along the way, particularly about my own ignorance.

I had very little idea about drag queens, the shows they put on and lives they lead (again, we all do not watch RuPaul’s Drag Race) to the transgender community and both the process and struggle they endure.

I learned more about terms like ‘twink’, ‘bear’, ‘butch’, ‘lipstick lesbian’, ‘masc’, ‘femme’ and the list goes on. I’ve been called a variety of names in my day, but I stick with my given name personally, ya know?

I came to see through experience that many of the stereotypes aren’t true, but at the same time some of them do hold up. After all, most stereotypes are usually embedded in some type of exaggerated, blurry, convoluted versions of the truth.

But that is fine.

Even if someone does personify a stereotype or live up to the expectation, they’re free to be whoever they want, however they want.

You would think there’s a lack of judgement and condescension within our own LGBTQ community, right? Nah. Within every community, there are preconceived notions and divisions. It’s human nature to have initial thoughts upon being introduced to someone or thing we’re unaccustomed to.

When I first was exploring the scene, it was a lot to take in. I’m an open-minded person, but it was still new and took some time to get used to a drag queen putting on an entertaining show or meeting a man or woman that had a sex change. It was fascinating and bizarre at the same time.

My inexperience made me uncomfortable around these people and I’m not ashamed to admit that because we are ever-evolving creatures.

I became much more mindful of the struggles of a transgender man or woman after becoming acquainted with a friend of a friend who was transgender. I told her that, at the risk of offending her, I hadn’t had much interaction with the transgender community and felt a bit awkward. I mentioned being very embarrassed to say as much and a traitor to my own. She understood and said at least I was trying.

I still don’t want to watch RuPaul’s Drag Race, but that’s not because of any ignorance – it’s because it’s not my thing. I have a deep appreciation for the art, time and the effort that goes into it and the confidence these men and women have though. Queer Eye, on the other hand, I LOVE (Call me, Tan).

All this to say that even with our ‘own people’, there can be an overload of naiveté and intolerance. For me, it was simply not being informed or being exposed to those walks of life.

Pride Month this year means so much more. It’s been half a century, 50 years, since the Stonewall Riots. People were willing to risk their freedom and quite frankly their lives at the time so that future members of the LGBTQ community could live in peace.

It was one of many memorable, landmark moments for us and we owe those people our gratitude and freedom.

New York is arguably the biggest gay mecca and definitely the biggest melting pot in the world. Comprised of countless backgrounds, ethnicities, sexual orientations, identities etc., it is fitting World Pride is celebrated here this year, especially given the momentous anniversary of those events.

So, while only part of my rainbow-colored road, I’ve learned a lot along the way and come to understand those from different branches of the spectrum. I felt a lot more pride to be part of a community that changed the landscape for equality and compassion.

I was ignorant, but became more accepting, loving and proud as a result. I am grateful that I live in a time where I can do as I please, marry someone down the line if I choose and have access to anything else that a human being should. This is the equality, understanding and compassion we all hope for. It’s just that simple. #LoveIsLove

 

 

The Enemy Within: Casually Judging Our Own

Last week, I watched an episode of Sugar Rush, one of the endless cooking shows we’ve been inundated with on Netflix and Hulu over the last couple of years. Worst Cooks in America is one of my guilty pleasures if I’m being upfront, but I digress. Within the first couple minutes, a contestant appeared and I immediately asked, “Is she trans?” Not even five seconds later, the contestant confirmed my curiosity. I said, “Yeah, I figured… you can usually tell”.

This simple statement alone made me realize how many preconceived notions and stereotypes we all can subscribe to, intentionally or not. One could argue it’s just being observant and you could immediately gather this information through basic common sense and experience. But the way I so nonchalantly said ‘you can usually tell’ gave me pause about the deeper meanings of this.

In addition to the trans contender on Sugar Rush, there have been other times that have made me question my casual judgments. Last year, Queer Eye exploded back on the scene and without a doubt, Jonathan Van Ness or JVN was the breakout star of the show. Unapologetically himself, both his warm, caring and hilarious disposition and quick one-liners make him great television. He makes you feel his sunshine through the screen and you can tell he genuinely cares about what he’s doing with each person. In addition to this, JVN regularly shows up to interviews, award shows and the like wearing high heels, dresses and referring to himself as ‘she’.

Initially, I perceived this in more of a humorous manner and shook my head at his fashion choices and way of being. I didn’t and don’t think there’s anything inherently wrong with that, but it’s just not my style or preference. However, upon watching a rerun last week, (the third season is set to premiere March 15^th) it made me stop and think about my knee-jerk perceptions. JVN is someone that, as above-mentioned, is such a beam of positivity who through his work has made me smile, laugh and cry more than I care to admit. Yet, here I was sneering at his wardrobe and flamboyant mannerisms.

As a gay man, you become acutely aware through coming out just how many generalizations there are and the struggles that can come with being true to yourself. You see this through the reception of the outside world, interacting with others in the LGBTQ society as a whole and through hearing about hate crimes, which take place at an alarming rate to this day. We are labeled in a variety of ways like other minority groups and like any of them, there is a small amount of blurry truths mixed with what is typically an overwhelming majority of falsehoods.

Where you come from and how you were brought up play a role in this. Growing up, my town was right outside New York City, so we had access to anything and everything. It’s not like we were living somewhere that left us with little exposure to diversity. However, my hometown was/is predominantly white and Catholic and even though, to my knowledge, there’s not any mass bigotry occurring, there was definitely a sense of old school traditions, beliefs and gender roles floating around. I had friends that dated people of other races and it wasn’t a big deal, but there was an initial sigh from their parents. When I or other people I knew came out as gay or lesbian, there was acceptance, but the side eye of uncertainty. It was absolutely a town where the old-fashioned nuclear family reigned supreme and different lifestyles weren’t shunned, but cautiously embraced.

Our interactions with members of our own groups play a role in it too. Some gay men support the stereotypes that the community as a whole has earned by being unnecessarily sassy, catty and abrupt. At the bars, there are times that if you’re not a hot guy with muscles or a drag queen entertaining the crowd, you might get a cold shoulder. There’s an air of condescension thrown your way and it can make someone trying to find a common bond feel low-key ostracized. From my observations, it is a vicious cycle. The ones throwing the attitude are probably doing so for one of two reasons: they’re either just naturally assholes or they’ve become quite jaded over time, dealing with people who either label them from the jump or just want one thing. So, their defenses are heightened. On the other side, people seeking love – platonic or sexual/romantic – who are on the receiving end can become cynical about their exchanges with fellow gays and come to have their own preconceived views about who someone might be within seconds of seeing or speaking to them. Either way, the defenses can rise like a reflex and we’re adding to the revolving door of scrutiny.

As far as labeling and critiquing someone based on limited interactions, I’ve had my share being called phrases like a ‘regular bro’ to a ‘masculine twink’ to just – the always classy and traditional – ‘faggot’ by more aggressive types. No names or labels ever bothered me, but made me laugh because I know who I am. I also know that everyone has many more layers than what you see in the first two minutes of meeting them. Furthermore, these labels, like the snap judgments I’ve made myself about others, speak to simply being unfamiliar or having ingrained modes of thinking that cause such reaction. This is why for me it was vital to pause and reflect on my ways.

The words open-minded, accepting and unity are supposed to be synonymous with the LGBTQ community, but that doesn’t stop us from judging our own at times. On one hand, that is natural. We are entitled to our preferences. We are entitled to choose the things we want in friends and/or partners and what we surround ourselves with. But on the other hand, we should make effort to not unintentionally cause subtle divides in doing so. It is good for growth and general education in this world to do away with even minor negative preconceptions. These ignorant thoughts can support stereotypes/stigmas and suppress the spread of acceptance and understanding, one of the main principles we strive for – not only as LGBTQ members, but human beings in general.

One of my universal mantras in life is the cliché ‘do you’. I am of the mindset that whatever makes you happy, go for it. As long as you’re staying true to yourself and not causing anyone else trouble, go on with your bad self. But I realized I was not 100% at all times being true to that by sporadically dissecting other members of my bigger community.

I consider myself someone who is – usually – compassionate and empathetic towards others. So this was a great lesson in reconstructing my approach with not only fellow associates of my colorful spectrum, but people in general. Every group, no matter their race, ethnicity, sexual orientation, religion and so on, comes with their set of biased notions. And we all have our judgments on various aspects of our own, from how someone presents themselves to their appearance to skin tone to morals and values and so on. Part of that is human nature and being observant in the moment – nothing more. But another part of it comes from our experiences in life and how our minds have been shaped on particular details. Taking a moment to reflect on this every now and then and seeing if we can change our outlook for the better can help us move to the next level. And it’s a daily process… just ask me about my reaction to Billy Porter’s outfit at the Oscars.

Do You Watch RuPaul’s Drag Race? Ignorant Stuff Gay Men Hear

“John is cool with the whole gay thing,” a good friend of mine once said to me at a party about her boyfriend.

“Well good, I’m glad. He should be. It’s 2016 and if he has a problem with it, he’d be an asshole,” I told my friend.

That one comment alone is just a morsel of the array of oblivious and many times rude shit people say to gays, lesbians and others on the colorful spectrum. Along with being ‘cool with the gay thing’, the stereotypes, inquisitions and overall lack of awareness extend much further.

Like other marginalized groups, some folks scrutinize and poke as if we’re a museum exhibit. And in 2018, there’s an estimated 7% of the world’s population that identify as LGBTQ, which is only growing. So imagine this ignorance on a much larger scale than beyond that conversation you had with some stranger at a loud club last weekend.

Whether we open the door or not (all puns intended), many straight people seem quite comfortable invading our privacy and crossing boundaries to appease their curiosities and be seen as more ‘open-minded’. These are just some of the endless questions and prompts I’ve received.

Top or bottom: This is hands down the most asked about topic. On one hand, it is an obvious and valid question, but on the other it’s like… do I know you? The question assumes – based on typical preconceived notions – that whatever the answer, this person falls into a specific category and immediately labels them as being more masculine/feminine or dominant/submissive in life/romantic affairs. People are a bit more complex than their sexual preferences (usually). Should I start asking my straight boys if they ever get pegged by their girlfriends? If you don’t know what pegging is, look up the Broad City episode on it.

Rimming/eating ass: There’s this intense, laser focus when asked about analingus. Some people imagine that because I enjoy putting my penis into a butt, it automatically implies I love to eat the booty like groceries (if you don’t get that reference, I don’t know where you’ve been the last few years).  Furthermore, what difference does this make from straight to gay guys? Plenty of heterosexual men and women alike have ate out someone’s back end (enjoying themselves thoroughly) and you don’t hear a peep, unless it’s moans of pleasure from those receiving some tongue in their cheeks – get it, get it? Tongue in cheeks? Okay, I’ll stop.

Threesomes: Every day of my life isn’t a porno. I don’t just see all these hot guys at bars, make my intentions known and somehow at the end of the night, we’re all involved in a gang bang, running train on each other with swings and ball gags. Granted, I do know a decent amount of gay men that have partaken in such behavior. But guess what? So do straight men and women all the time. From open marriages to swingers to spicing up your love life or just surprising your partner on a Wednesday, threesomes are not just endemic to gay men.

I know someone that would be such a good match for you: Do you? Your friend and I aren’t the only two single, gay men in this region. It’s just as bad as a blind date for a pair of straight strangers. Even on the off-chance that your friend and I do connect (which I would gladly thank you for if the date even happened), it’s degrading to just assume that because we both like dick, we’ll take anything thrown our way. I can manage without this awkward interaction (Bumble, Hinge, Tinder, Grindr… need I go on?). The last time someone said this to me, I looked over and the guy she was referring to was asleep on the bar. Yeah… thanks.

Oh, you can say whatever around him – he’s gay: While I may not be interested in vagina, that doesn’t mean I’m interested in hearing about your female problems, bodily fluids and the like. I am NOT your gay best friend – we just met. More importantly, I don’t like to be explained off like an invalid who can’t comprehend anything or has no boundaries. I may not have a problem hearing about your missed period, queefing, makeup, fashion and/or the intricate details of another guy’s dick size, but I also don’t want or need to hear about it at length every time we hang out.

Do you watch RuPaul’s Drag Race? My wheelbarrow might just extend past drag queens, people saying ‘yasss’, glitter and sassy one liners. Much like other ordinary Americans, I happen to enjoy sports and a variety of TV shows, from Billions and Shameless to Family Guy and House Hunters and so on. Do I indulge in guilty pleasures sometimes? Absolutely. But my daily life isn’t a rainbow-plastered runway full of bitchy cat fights and nonstop attitude. We, just like anyone else, are a little more well-rounded. And no, I haven’t seen the Queer Eye reboot yet.

Do you have any transgender friends? I’ve only heard this on occasion, but it’s so ludicrous that it must be addressed. How blatantly rude – to both myself and the trans community. Trans people are not this season’s hottest accessory. They are people living their lives (like you and me), but they happen to identify as a different sex than that which they were born. I could be a gay man with absolutely no friends on the LGBTQ spectrum, which would be a little sad (thankfully I’m not). Just assuming we’re all connected because we’ve endured pieces of a similar struggle is akin to asking three black/Latino/Asian strangers if they’ve all met before.

This is my gay/lesbian. While flattering and I appreciate how close you feel to me, I’m also no one’s property or show pony. Recently, a friend of mine joked about how she wished I was more dramatic, saying, “All I wanted was a flamboyant gay bestie and I wasted all these years on you!” It was all in good fun, but it clearly shows the underlying stereotypes. People have you pigeonholed in this box in their heads like you’re some mythical creature. And some of us are pretty amazing – so thank you for the overdue recognition.

The list goes on and on. But these are some of the leading, typical questions and statements you’ll hear as a same-sex oriented man. On occasion, it is entertaining and/or a chance to educate a person on the norms of our culture. It is truly more of a moment though to drop some knowledge in the hopes that they A – won’t be so blatantly abrasive in their line of questioning, B – realize how many different walks of life people come from and most importantly C – can become allies in helping us all come together in a united front to form a more integrated society in this day and age (cue the violins and ‘We Are The World’ music).

Until then, I will shake my head and laugh at their inquiries over old reruns of Queer as Folk and Glee.