- I struggled with telling people I wasn't interested in them during casual sex; I'd have sex anyway.
- One day, a guy told me he wasn't interested in the middle of us hooking up, and it shocked me.
In my early 20s, I had sex with people for the sake of politeness a few times.
At the time, I was still learning the ropes of gay hookup culture — specifically casual sex and communication.
I remember a few times when I met someone on Grindr, and our compatibility wasn't right for whatever nuanced or vain reason: Our mutual attraction didn't manifest with clothes off, they were poor kissers, or the rhythm of our bodies didn't beat to the same horn.
I wanted to stop but couldn't find the right words to avoid hurting their feelings. Sexual interactions between gay men can happen swiftly on the apps, so I'd be forced to reconsider having sex with someone as they were naked in front of me. It was awkward.
I had no idea how to express that I had been willing to have sex with them but not anymore.
So as if my penis took a soldier's pledge, I finished. For Sparta!
Of course, I mostly regretted it. However, one day, I was on the receiving end of rejection in between sheets, and it gave me a new perspective.
I met a guy on one of the apps, and he rejected me
I was on top of a tall, hunky gym trainer I had met only 25 minutes ago. We made out and took off each other's clothes until he paused.
"You're kind of aggressive," he said.
I smiled and tried to flip him over.
"Do you mind if we just jerk off?" he asked.
It took me a moment to realize he was rescinding his invitation to have sex. I was shook. He had probably assumed I'd be submissive. His online profile advertised he was verse — being both a top and a bottom — but it was clear that what he really wanted was a bottom.
I didn't want to accept a sympathy jerk, so I passed. In reality, I liked him a lot and would've stayed just to hang out. I would've even forced myself to be more sub had he given me a chance.
I walked home, embarrassed. Was it not good for him? Was I bad at sex?
That encounter humbled me. But I'd never want anyone to sleep with me if they weren't enjoying themselves.
Deep down, I was also impressed; I would've soldiered through it if our roles were reversed.
In May, I went to brunch with a group of gay men in San Francisco that helped me better understand rejection
A brunch with my friends quickly turned into a roundtable of endearing shade, cultural irreverence, and hookup stories.
I was captivated by a newfound acquaintance who recalled arriving at a stranger's home who didn't warn that it was under construction. He found himself going through plastic wall coverings — a scene straight out of a horror movie — to find this person waiting on a mattress.
"I regretted it," the acquaintance said about the sex.
"I would have run out of there," I immediately said, "a bare mattress on the floor."
The acquaintance thought the scene was hot. It was the man's unexpectedly hairy back that was the problem. And it didn't help that his hookup wanted doggy-style.
"What was I supposed to do?" my acquaintance asked. "I couldn't just leave."
I thought about this a lot. He didn't want to treat the man like Chewbacca, but he couldn't control his attraction. Sex can feel transactional on the apps, but I've realized it's never contractual. Accepting each other's nudes isn't like signing on the dotted line.
These days, I'm trying something new when hooking up
Rejection can feel dreadful no matter what side you're on. As I experienced it from both points of view, it made it easier to accept it as an inevitable part of the game of casual sex. Also, I realized approaching any situation with kindness ensured ripping off the Band-Aid of honesty never broke flesh.
But that doesn't mean you won't find people unprepared to face it. That, too, is part of the game.
I've now learned to take my time when meeting someone. I like to hang out for a bit and be playful. This gives me time to feel the vibes. I've become comfortable saying, "Sorry, I'm not feeling it," and have been having better sex because of it.
I've decided my only loyalty is to my heart and the courageous captain downstairs. Tolerating unpleasantries is not brave, but kindly speaking your mind is.