Everybody Does It | Public Displays of Gayness

I had a threesome in a hot tub when I was 22. It was spring break, and I was in Palm Springs, CA. I was staying at an all-gay-men’s hotel with one of my friends from work. While the stranger we brought home from the bar attended to us, I noticed that one of the hotel owners was watching us through the bushes, and then more brazenly right next to the hot tub. Usually one’s reaction might be to grow shy and insist we take the party to a more private location, but at that time, and in that setting I did what I think every young, gay man, freed from the mores of society would do in that situation. I arched my back, pursed my lips and locked eyes with the voyeur while the stranger went down on my friend and I.

There is a mentality about public displays of affection that every gay man is at some point forced to address. Those of us fortunate enough to live in a big city where gay couples are more predominant may think less about kissing our boyfriends, or our dates on the street, but for so many others it is not even an option. When I first came out to my family, my mother, not surprised by this revelation, was chiefly concerned that I would end up wounded or killed if I expressed this sort of affection for another man in public. My immense naiveté at the time shrugged this sentiment off as simply ignorance on her part and an example of just how outdated older generations’ thinking could be.

But even in the sleepy little town of New York City this issue persists. The decision to hold hands with your lover or walk arm in arm in even the gayest of neighborhoods is usually not made lightly. Though one would not give a second thought about a man and woman kissing and touching in public, except to occasionally think they should get a room, gay couples are still not afforded the luxury of expressing themselves however they may choose without some nagging doubts about how they will be received.

This is evidenced in the stories or news reports about a gay couple being violently harmed for expressing affection in public, but is more commonly expressed in the hearts and minds of individuals. To walk hand in hand in public is to make a statement that declares oneself as a minority. If the classic photograph that heralded the end of WWII on VJ day was of two males, it would have only been seen by a select audience in a Chelsea gallery, rather than being known the world over. To be gay and in a public relationship forces us to constantly reenact our coming out.

Though it is nowhere as bad as it once was for us, the stigma still exists. The reason that places like Fire Island and Palm Springs even exist is that they were a haven for gays who wanted to have the freedom to be themselves, including being affectionate with other men in public, a freedom that they didn’t always feel, even in the rainbow friendly locales of New York and Los Angeles. These havens weren’t just about sexual debauchery and moral abandon, as they are sometimes viewed, but about self-expression that doesn’t necessitate a feeling of bravery or defiance in a heteronormative world.

The truth is that gays and straights alike can gag at the sight of public make-outs and lovers’ hands resting in each others’ back pockets, but heterosexuals can generally perform these actions without fear. I think it is fair to say they take for granted the fact that they can express their feelings wherever they so choose, unless they are part of an illicit relationship. Even so, would denote that gay relationships are reduced to status of illicit, though the Supreme Court deemed them not, more than a decade (yes only a little more than a decade) ago, and most people (I would hope) would not consider them to be so.

So perhaps it is just the notion that we continue to perpetuate in our heads that keeps us from feeling comfortable with PDA. My ex-boyfriend was wary about kissing me outside his apartment in East Harlem, and I couldn’t help but feel self-conscious when we would kiss on the subway. Every town is not Palm Springs, and even if it was I wouldn’t necessarily advocate sex in public. But in the warmth of the desert night in the bubbling water of the hot tub I didn’t feel an ounce of shame for what I was doing. If only everywhere could feel as liberating, then every day would be hand holding, kissing, our very own BJ day.