My friend and I were having a conversation about sex—is there anything new under the sun! We were discussing the idea that gay men do not like being gay, that we hate ourselves for being homosexual. This then is why when we talk about it we usually speak of it in whispers—we state in low tones that we are gay, as if we cannot believe it’s the case, but simultaneously it is exactly that—that we are gay—and this is the foundation of what we know and of how we know the world. Being gay is who and what we are; it is our identity. Nevertheless, this is why we talk about it, because it is what we know with certainty; the subject of homosexuality constitutes our very nature. In speaking of being gay, homosexuality becomes a subject open to discussion which alters it into an object and the person who speaks of it (provided he is gay) into an object as well; he becomes the object known as the homosexual. Thus, to be homosexual (at least for this writer) is to be an object, and ultimately a subject open to discourse.

As with any human being one knows oneself and the world through one’s body. Is it any wonder then why gay men are so obsessed with their appearance and their bodies? If one homosexual knows and experiences another (as well as oneself) primarily through his body, through the gaze that calls his body into objectification, then there is little question as to why most, if not all gay men, are vain and shallow. Yet why is a homosexual’s vanity and superficiality a consequence of his objectification inside the homosexual culture that has been constructed out of society’s classification of him as an object of study in medical and legal discourse in the nineteenth century? The answer is because for both medical and legal discourse the homosexual’s body was and remains the site of his “sin”, his abnormality, and his criminal behavior. In viewing a homosexual’s body as such then it is easy to see why he is obsessed with it. It is easy to see why he struggles to objectify it further not into an object of this abnormality or criminality, but into an object of thorough masculine beauty and perfection that could then possibly prevent his observers from questioning whether he is homosexual. Therefore, those gay men who do not fit the mold of the physically attractive homosexual face ridicule by well-defined gay men as unattractive, solidifying the generalization that to be gay means to be effeminate both physically and emotionally. Thus, these “unattractive” gay men become outsiders in the homosexual subculture. This is where I fit in.

I am not physically well defined. I am average in height and not overweight yet I know I am not thin enough or physically attractive enough to find myself a true friend in the gay community, let alone a partner. I know this because of the innumerable times I have attempted to converse with many, many gay men online and elsewhere and been treated as if I did not exist or was not human in a variety of ways based solely on my looks. I have also gone to a few bars and other gay social functions to meet men for friendship and more but it has been to no avail because the men who attend these functions only speak to you if you fit the physical description for which they are searching. I do not mean to say that I believe I am unattractive, but I know that I am not an Adonis, nor do I want to be for there is so much more to life and to me than a physical appearance of great attraction that will eventually disappear. Yet I am vain because I do not see my body in a very good light and for me physical appearance, as for most, if not all people, is the first thing that attracts me to a man. But I can definitely state that not every man that I have been attracted to has been a true specimen of what is defined as masculine beauty.

Being decent looking and interested in men for more than just their looks and sex is for me a difficult reality at times. It is difficult because it has become more than clear to me that in the gay community looks and great sex are the only things that the majority of gay men find important. So, what happens to me in all of this; how have I survived? I am twenty nine, I have known I was gay since I was twelve, I did not come out to my family until I was twenty-five, and was vilified by all my “friends” and many others throughout junior high and high school before I even officially came out of the closet in my senior year. Because of this constant homophobia and varied verbal as well as minor physical assaults, I never developed true, lasting friendships and have not been able to do so since then. The reason is that as I have tried to make these bonds during my youth when it was important to do so, my homosexuality kept me getting respect. So I do not try as hard as I should to meet people and develop friendships or relationships because I have experienced enough disinterest from other men who do not find me attractive and have made it clear that since there is no attraction on their part, they do not want to become friends.

The desire for the beautiful and the sexual has corroded homosexual culture from within. Consequently, two attractive men only desire this beauty and the pleasure derived from it in one another. How is it possible then—assuredly it is possible—for me, when I do not fit exactly into this norm, to develop friendships and relationships with other men when this is rarely the case for those men around me? My identity as a gay man, I do not think I necessarily have one, is limited, if not nonexistent. For me, not even being able to find a suitable gay male with which to experience my sexual desires during university life further crippled my perspective of myself. I was unable to do so because I was forty pounds overweight with acne for several years due to the anti-depressants I was taking because I had no friends and kept my homosexuality hidden from my family. So, instead of dealing with this in another way, throughout university life and after I cultivated a profound education that I believe has further removed me from homosexual culture because being well-educated isn’t something prized in comparison to physical beauty and a desire for no-strings sex. Lastly, I believe my disinterest in drugs and alcohol has further displaced me from the culture as well, especially in the club circuit. Ultimately, it appears (in the eyes of gay male youth) that I do not know how to have fun. This may be, but I cannot elude my natural temperament that finds no lasting happiness in these brief moments of artificial and limited sexual ecstasy. My nature is one that contrasts with this; it seeks for something more permanent—insofar as anything can be permanent.

My desire as a gay male is to find another gay male that can correspond with me in this way.  We are rare. I am not saying I need a man who is as intellectually profound as I am, but I am searching for someone who is interested in more than just a one-night affair or a friend for no-strings sex. The culture of homosexuality teaches, whether implicitly or not, that youth and sexual exploration during youth is prized above all else and one must hold on to it and use it to one’s advantage for as long as one possibly can. It does not teach that youth and its exploits are ultimately illusions that will eventually burn away and that one should look towards the future, at least with one eye so to speak, while living in and enjoying the present. Put in this perspective it makes sense why many gay men have mid-life crises of sorts or after their days of youthful partying are over they feel lost and like they have no purpose. I feel lost and without a purpose at times as it is, I didn’t need to wake up at the age of twenty-five or so and say, “now what do I do?” It is frightening that in gay culture by the time you are thirty you are “old”, if not “dead”. Just because you reach a certain age and your looks may mature does not mean you have lost the vibrancy implied in youth and beauty.

In my situation, being gay is difficult because I do not feel accepted by society and heterosexual individuals, and I am isolated from the majority of gay males because I do not subscribe in particular to the beliefs and lifestyle of young men under thirty. My identity is definable through my homosexuality and my perceptions of it, as well as my artistic temperament that makes me a deeply reflective person and a sensitive human being. I believe that because I am on the margins of homosexual culture as well as the larger culture of mass society I can make these observations and find them to be if not factual, then as close to truthful as my understanding of the situation will allow.

Dominick Montalto is a freelance copy editor pursuing full-time work in the publishing industry in an editorial capacity. His educational background is in Literature, Art History, Philosophy, and Religion. He is a poet and critical prose essayist, with several publishing credits in both genres in print and on the web. His literary field specialization is the long 19th century from the French Revolution through the early Modern novel, with particular focus on the evolutionary changes of the Gothic, British Romanticism, French Symbolism, British and French Decadence and Aestheticism, and Orientalism. His religious and philosophical interests focus on the various sects of mysticism, as well as Christianity, Hinduism, and Buddhism. Overall, he continues to hold a strong interest and love for the different aspects of the arts and humanities.