I’m a Masculine Power Bottom…Deal With It
Just because you’re masculine doesn’t mean you’re a TOP
I’m a 33-year old gay man living in New York City. I’m a mechanic, live in a bachelor-sized apartment, drive a motorcycle, and workout six times a week. If you look at me you’d think I’m as straight as they come (or so I’m told). But the thing is, despite what you see, I break the stereotype.
I’m a power bottom, and a damn good one too. When I moved to the city twenty years ago, I was shocked at the reception I got from men. I grew up in South Carolina, where “masculinity” bled in the water supply. I’ve always been attracted to men of the feminine persuasion not just because they were a breath of fresh air, but because I assumed we belonged together. My personality is a bit hard, making it difficult for gay guys to approach me – something I’m still working on today. As an adolescent, I was never able to recognize a gay man when I saw one, which made me gravitate towards feminine guys.
Masculinity and femininity have nothing to do with sexual roles, and everything to do with how we place ourselves on the construct of society. Yes I’m masculine, does that mean I know how to be a good husband or boyfriend or father? Absolutely not. Why, then, is it deemed more attractive than other qualities? If you ask me, it all comes back to S-E-X.
As gay guys if we can’t imagine having sex with you, you’re automatically unattractive. The way we transfer the message is through the collaboration of visual and sexual. If we feel it, see it, and imagine it, it is then reality. Never mind what the truth is. Never mind if the guy is an asshole, is still living with mama, or will amount to nothing in his life. So long as he’s f*ck-worthy, he’s grade-A. What’s wrong with this picture?
I despise the word “stereotype” because I’ve been victim of it all my life. I can’t tell you how many dudes approach me at the bars or on Grindr, expecting me to top them, when, in reality, I haven’t topped anyone since 1997. I hate doing it. It does nothing to stimulate my senses nor feed my sexual urges.
I have to say though, being a masculine power bottom has its good days to. For example, it’s incredibly easy to get laid. The second I started referring myself as a power bottom, it was as if I’d put a FREE HUGS sign around my neck. The invitations were coming left and right – but the one thing that was missing was love. You see, when you’re in a relationship, it’s kind of a given to create a fair and balanced compromise. At some point, my man is going to want me to top him, which quite frankly I can’t bring myself to do.
I can only speak from my own experiences, of course. Masculinity aside, being a power bottom is a dime a dozen in this day and age. When I was in my early twenties, most men were versatile because they assumed they had to be. Today there are so many avenues a gay man can go and get off; there’s virtually no need to fear a label. We’ve become all about labels. If you don’t match with me, then it’s impossible for us to have an adequate partnership. I think it’s all bullshit.
I don’t give a crap if you’re feminine or not so long as you know how to handle me in the bedroom, or, know how to let me handle you. Trust me, the second the door closes in my bedroom, masculinity and femininity don’t exist. All that matters is our chemistry.
We need to stop categorizing masculinity as a sexual role. Trust me when I say in my years in New York, I’ve met tons of guys who in no way, shape, or form match stereotypical clichés. Some have even been famous celebrities and politicians! Some of the best tops I’ve had in bed have also been the most feminine. Trust me, if all you look at is the way he walks and talks, you’ll be missing out on some amazing experiences. Judge not, want not.