I Want to Date Gay Guys, but They Don’t Want to Date Me – Men’s Health
I’m Zachary Zane, a sex writer, author, and ethical Boyslut (a fancy way of saying I sleep with a lot of people, and I’m very, very open about it). Over the years, I’ve had my fair share of sexual experiences, dating and sleeping with hundreds of people of all genders and orientations. In doing so, I’ve learned a thing or two about navigating issues in the bedroom (and a bunch of other places, TBH). I’m here to answer your most pressing sex questions with thorough, actionable advice that isn’t just “communicate with your partner” because you know that already. Ask me anything—literally, anything—and I will gladly Sexplain It.
To submit a question for a future column, fill out this form.
Dear Sexplain It,
More From Men’s Health
To start, I am a large, affectionately fat, bi, Black man, and I’ve never really had a consistent group of queer friends. I grew up in Texas and was very selective about how “out” I was. Even when I moved to a more comfortable place, the ways I made friends didn’t really provide much exposure or access to the queer community. Because of this, the vaaaaaast majority of my friends are cisgender heterosexuals.
Now, with the background out of the way, here is my problem: I don’t know how to approach or date gay men. When I do find myself in groups, I feel like a fraud. I don’t know popular gay culture or slang, I don’t know what to talk about as all of the topics I bring up tend to be niche and do more to end discussion rather than invite it, and I have a hard time going to clubs and bars as loud, crowded spaces only make me more self-conscious than I already am.
Due to some bi groups I am lucky enough to be a part of, I interact with bi men fairly regularly, but nearly all of them are newly out, and I’m generally a way for them to test the waters than really have some fun with.
I generally lean towards folks with penises for sex (though I’ll happily use my mouth and hands on anyone), and I feel like there is a massive area of society that I just don’t know how to approach. Do you have any thoughts or advice for someone who feels like a stranger to the community they’re supposed to be a part of?
— Fringe Dweller
Dear Fringe Dweller,
You’re not alone. There are a lot of queer men who don’t feel seen, accepted, or embraced by “mainstream” gay culture. They’re not fans of Rupaul’s Drag Race, pop music, and casual encounters on Scruff, nor do they use popular gay slang. It’s important to remember that there isn’t just one way to be queer, even if it feels that way. My advice is to stop going to those crowded clubs you hate and start looking for partners in queer communities that’ll embrace you for being yourself. (After all, isn’t that what the queer community teaches: being your authentic self?) There are men who want to do more than test the waters with you outside of those “loud, crowded spaces.” You just have to find them.
You said you moved to a more “comfortable” place, which I take to mean “LGBTQ-friendly.” Hop online and see if there are any queer groups for your interests. Whenever I’ve moved to a new town, I’ve joined a gay sports team to meet friends. While some leagues are very competitive with former D1 athletes, most aren’t. Beginner kickball leagues are more about camaraderie and friendship than working out or winning. I’ve also noticed that people on these teams tend to be extra-welcoming because they’re there to connect with other queer people. I know quite a few queer men who’ve met their long-term partners this way. And if sports aren’t your thing, Google “gay book clubs,” “gay Dungeons and Dragons,” “gay gamer meet-ups,” or “gay whatever-your-interests-are.”
I noticed you didn’t mention using dating apps. You’re a queer man who doesn’t enjoy loud, crowded bars, so apps might be your best bet for meeting experienced guys who share your interests. OkCupid, Hinge, and Bumble are better if you’re looking for an actual date (as opposed to casual sex) with a guy. Then there’s Feeld, which caters to ethically non-monogamous folks. That might not be your thing, but I will say I’ve noticed a fair number of bi men using the app. You might want to steer clear of more explicit hook-up apps like Grindr and Scruff, which are riddled with fatphobia, racism, and other hateful bullshit. (Sadly, there are racist and fatphobic assholes on more dating-centric apps, too, but hook-up-specific sites really seem to bring out the worst in people.)
Meeting new sexual partners will take work. You’ll probably have to go to some awkward meetups and sit through some unrewarding dates, but unfortunately, that’s life for anyone on the dating scene.
And still, doesn’t that sound better than pretending to be a clubbing fanatic for the rest of your life? Doesn’t it sound better than changing how you speak and behave? Or not engaging in your favorite activities because they’re not what “most gays” are into? I know it sounds corny, but I do think you’ll find a community in your new city, and partner(s) that embrace you for who you are. And when you do, you won’t have to attempt to flirt with a man in a crowded gay bar ever again.
Contributing Editor
Zachary Zane is the author of Boyslut: A Memoir and Manifesto and editor-in-chief of the BOYSLUT Zine, which publishes nonfiction erotica from kinksters across the globe. He writes “Sexplain It,” the sex and relationship advice column at Men’s Health, and is the co-author of Men’s Health Best. Sex. Ever. His work has been featured in New York Times, Rolling Stone, Washington Post, Playboy, and more.