How It All Began

There has always been this constant battle between whether a child is born gay, or whether they develop this heavy, and may I say, a fabulous burden. Maybe there is literally a blog dedicated to the scientific discovery of this unknown equation, but to be quite frank, this isn’t the blog for the answer to that question. In fact, it may not be the blog to hold any given answers particularly- mainly because I don’t profess to be this benevolent spirit with in-depth knowledge of the way men think, I’m not a counselor with a twenty-year Ph.D. in Psychology (Although it is now in my recent curriculum, partly the conceptional reason for this blog).

I am, however; a boy. An African American boy, one who has experienced trials and experiences someone twice his age would be bewildered by, whether it was regarding work ethic and employment status, maternal and paternal squabbles, sibling wars, sex with the opposite and same sex- and from the last option you can pretty much guess the next; love.

In other words, I am just like you.

Some people look to some sites for closure or some reminisce of comfort, yes- I would love for majority of my audience to have this same feeling when coming to my blog, however, sometimes it’s just good to know ‘I’m not the only one going through this and if they got through this, maybe I can as well’.

Given my extensive studies in Social Psychology, I really thought starting my own blog would be exciting, if not ravishing for my soul. Only because I have the most exciting friends. Their open trails with men and natural relationships with people have inspired me, not only in my life but in some of my other friend’s lives- people their words probably would’ve never touched if not for me. I felt it was my job, if not my obligation, to pass on any wisdom I come across. I mean, us gays have to stick together, right? 

The Five Story Building On Pomplace

When I was young, I had two best friends, I can’t remember exactly when they appeared into my life- it just seems like they were always there; in pictures, in my school, just in my life in general. They were always there. But I didn’t mind them around. They seemed to pose as comfort stools in the damaged life I held as a child- now that I think about it. I was so comfortable around these two boys, we told each other everything, escaped to places in our imagination; magical kingdoms in the four walls of coat closets, secret forts made out of blankets, bunkbeds turned into spaceships battling a volcano of lava- playing video games til the brink of daylight… Lost our virginities together.

Weirdly enough, it was these two who helped me discover who I should turn out to be in the future, or at least the lesson I learned from them did. I was young, I made a stupid decision, and I probably didn’t even do it the right way to be quite honest. I guess it was the cosmic virginity I lost, in replacement to the real one. All the foundations were there (penetration and such), however, I always have to ask myself, was he really your first?

Growing up, there were no cute nicknames for private parts, like ‘Wee-Wee’ or ‘Pu-Pu’, my parents were more direct- just penis and vagina. Sort of allowed us to know what we had, just never how to use them, which would be weird as a child… If only I was a normal child. *Insert rolling eyes emoji*
Anyway, another weird coincidence is, I was actually the one to muster the strength to stop the ongoing ‘relationship’ I contributed to with messing around with my childhood friends. Possibly because, at the age, I knew what we were doing was wrong- but I think a deeper part was kindling in my heart as opposed to my gym shorts. The part that possibly had been there since birth, a part that had started to catch genuine feelings for the Pomplace Boys.

Ready for one more weird coincidence?


So, fast forward two decades into the future- for a long time, Facebook was the root and cause of allllllll my problems. I’m sure it probably is for a few others, why? It is the exact gateway into someone’s life, especially with this new “live” feature, you literally have a virtual window. One afternoon, one of the boys from my childhood had uploaded a long and exhausting paragraph about how unhappy he was, about how he thought his life should’ve turned out differently, and how angry he had been to have a three-year-old daughter. I commented on the post, told him if he ever needed to talk I would be open ears, not even thinking of our past, but more towards a future as genuine friends.

Who would’ve known he would’ve wanted to talk that same exact day.

Given how estranged we became from each other, I had no clue what his life was like to the last cranny, I only knew what he posted online, so I chose to play it financially safe and go to Applebee’s. *Another rolling eyes emoji*

Much like on Facebook, he explained his problems to me, I think I even saw him get a tad teary eyed when talking about his family; I tried to listen but I was in complete awe with how handsome he had become in the years of my absence, it was a wonder my jaw wasn’t dragging on the pavement as he walked me to my house (Only three blocks away).

I attempted to try and pull him in for a hug, I admit- it was awkward, mainly because I wasn’t sure if our friendship was capable of hugs, he just looked like he needed one after explaining his life to me… I leaned in to close the space, my only intent on a hug circling my brain rapidly to distract me, but before I could think of his tight muscular arms circling my waist, instead- I felt his lips.

When I tell you I probably gasped as his tongue flicked to mine, I had lost all confidence and slowly reverted to the boy I was when I was ten. 

In fact, it was a very confusing state, I had a million questions in my head and as rationally as I wanted to act, I wasn’t as in control of myself as my feelings were. The feeling was amazing, for the slight moment, it was filled with mystery, filled with excitement, passion, and history. It almost tasted like forbidden love. Something I knew I didn’t need at this moment in my life. I had grown far too much to drift back into the closet I was in before. 

There were no more journies to Narnia, no more battles for forts to be necessary, no more volcanic missions that had to be saved by the Spy Kids, I had grown up- just like he gave me the impression that he had also.

One week later, he deleted me on Facebook.

The week after, I deleted Facebook.

Finding Me For Me

It would be a total lie to proclaim I am complete. I hope it comes in the near future, and I hope a loving boyfriend or husband will come with this notion of completion. However, I am quite whole. I am happy to say that my happiness doesn’t depend on the love of another. I have an amazing life, an amazing job, loving friends, a family that supports me like no other, and I love myself unconditionally. So much so, I have taken a break from dating, living my dating life adventurously and sexually throughout the ones I surround myself with, who are more than likely mostly writers, or poets, or of a higher profession in power, so you know this will be JEWWWWCCYYY.

Of course- in time, I will dedicate a post about the confusion of if you are born gay or if it comes in some sort of rainbow puberty capsule, with all of your opinions included, of course. But for the moment, it was just my intake on what influenced me towards men.

Do I regret anything from my past? Not a single thing, everything that I endured has helped shape me better than a celadon jade Chinese vase. I am happy with the person I look at in the mirror, and I truly just want the rest of my people (gays, predominantly Afro-American gays) to be as well.

Suggestions, questions, anything can be left in the comment box- except if you want to be featured of course. Then you can just email me ( or DM me on Instagram, it would be more private than just posting it yourself, also it will look prettier with me posting it and giving you credit as opposed to your poem lingering in the comments section lol.

Thank guys 🙂


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