How I Found Love and Acceptance in the Kink Community

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I recently stumbled into a new community. I had grown somewhat tired of the gay bars and events I routinely attended. They were all the same. They play the same music, serve the same drinks, and the same jaded gay men dance drunkenly looking for love in all the wrong places. Online dating/hook-up apps lost their luster, and I wanted to meet open, queer folk in real life.

That’s when I found the leather/kink community.

It was an accident. Friends I made through Grindr months earlier invited me to a leather event in the basement of a drag bar in Boston. I thought, Sure, why not? I figured it would be one of those events I'd go to once, have fun, and then never go back.

So I went covered in leather from head to toe: assless chaps, a leather-daddy cap, harness, and a skimpy jockstrap. If nothing else, I wanted to look the part.

Oh, I did.

The moment I arrived, my nerves got the best of me and sweat started streaming down my body. What am I doing here? I thought to myself. These are not my people. I was shy and awkward. But after some liquid courage, I started talking to the other men and slowly loosened up.

By the end of the night, I realized I had never felt so comfortable talking to queer strangers before in my life. It was an open, cheerful, non-homonormative atmosphere where I felt accepted, and my nervousness vanished.

I exchanged some numbers and made new friends. It's a no nonsense community (no texting back-and-forth without meeting up), and people who are into leather/kink are welcoming and authentic. Through the men in the community, I’ve discovered new things about myself.

I became exposed to the poly world and various types of non-monogamous relationships. Before being introduced to the kink community, I was determined to be in a monogamous relationship. I also thought that being poly was just an excuse to sleep around, but I learned it’s much more than that. Polyamory is not only a legitimate orientation, but also, better suited for me. Both polyamory and monogamy have a myriad of problems, but I’m better equipped to deal with the problems that come from polyamory. And since I’ve been polyamorous, I’ve been happier. In fact, my anxiety has lessened dramatically. 

I’ve also become less consumed with my own looks. As someone who has struggled with body dysmorphia, it’s helpful to see men of all shapes and sizes, half-naked, and secure in themselves. I’ve stopped trimming my chest and shoulder hair since I’ve met them. I’ve grown more confident in my appearance. These men have fought against the homonormative concept of beauty, and at the end of the day, are happier for it. I’m tired of being obsessed and consumed with my appearance. I’m ready to accept and love myself, and slowly, they’re showing me how.

The last thing I learned may sound obvious, even offensive, but you don’t have to be gay and bitchy. Don’t get me wrong. All gay men aren’t bitchy. It’s a vicious stereotype that I don’t want to perpetuate. I, however, had surrounded myself with men who like to throw a lot of shade at each other, and that type of friendship is just not for me. The men I met through the kink community aren’t shady. They’re drama-free.   

At the end of the day, I learned there is so much more to queerness than to what I had been exposed. I was living in a homonormative, gay bubble.

With only a small portion of the LGBT+ community represented in mainstream media, I didn’t realize how many queer men were out there like me. It’s fulfilling being part of a community. Being bi, I haven’t felt completely welcomed in the gay community, but the queer kink community welcomed me with open arms. They’ve taken me in as one of their own. They’ve shown me a new side to being queer. They’ve taught me how to be confident, happy, open, and kind.

And for that, I’m grateful.