Essay for the Gay Male Culture Committee

The cracked puzzle of Gay culture is habitually on my mind, new pieces arising are the obstacles to change the gay evolution. The males deemed God’s perfecta of Queer philosophy are usually the lengthy, thin athletic white boys. Slight baby-faced with smooth skin. The twinks, jocks, or trunks we named them. Males at the top of the gay pyramid. Where do the rest of us who don’t fit in those categories go? The rejects, the ones who are left to strive for this elusive model of perfection.

Many individuals think we aren’t trying hard enough, specifically when it comes to body types. This body of mine, a bigger built guy. Never knowing what it’s fully like to be skinny except in my adolescent years. Always striving for the perfection of the ideal gay—nice ass, toned body, muscled biceps, triceps, quads, and only 2% body fat. I’ve attempted and failed to achieve these aspirations so many times, leading to an eating disorder. Everyone around complimented on my skinny appearance. The approval from this tribe was rooted in my consciousness even when others saw goals of what I was trying to achieve. I remained blind. In 2025, we cast a charade of diversity exploiting body positivity and body neutrality. But even this charade has not fractured into gay beauty politics.

Has gayness always had categories to place boundaries on individuals such as bears, twinks, cubs, jocks, otters, or wolves. Although a plethora of gay men bargain these little labels as trivial, they perpetuate ostracizing people. People like me. The one who hears peers discussing who’s attractive and who they would like to fuck. Where do I fit? I’m not a twink. I’m not skinny. I have a lot of body fat, I’m still athletic, I’m hairy. Maybe an otter. Where will I go? The fact that I’m black and haven’t reached this marketed beauty is double homicide. It’s common to observe white and other queer males of color pursue subjectively mediocre white guys. Us blacks, we require no room for error. Does my race ultimately shelve me in the deep genre of ugliness? Only appreciated when fetishized by my color: the features of my lips, facial structure, genitals, culture. Do they only see me as one facet and not the whole human being? I’ve witnessed friends who transform from one category to another still perpetuate this ideology of gay beauty because now they are granted a seat at the table where they were formally rejected. Reckon they got their wish. Neglecting those who waged war for their visibility in pursuit of inclusion.

Leave a note for Shane below; they’ll be notified.

Shane Short

Shane Short (He/Him) is a Black American male writer from New Kent, Virginia, and a graduate of Longwood University, where he earned a degree in creative writing, with a focus on poetry and non-fiction, alongside a minor in communication studies. Outside of writing and teaching, he enjoys reading and exercising, and he aspires to pursue an MFA in creative writing.