Reconciliation.
That’s the roll I believe my sexuality is playing in my life at this precise moment. Being the son of two very good looking athletes, the younger brother of a very popular and beautiful girl, my physical aspect was always a complex subject. I was called “eleven” at home, clearly not because of the Stranger Things character, which would have been pretty cool, but because my legs were so thin they looked like two number ones. “Pipeline arms”, “little guts”, and so on. Those were the nicknames friends and family would call me. “Fag” and “sissy” were of course also on the menu, maybe not related to how thin I was but to how effeminate I was. Isolation was (and still is!) actually something I learned to enjoy a lot. I could listen to the girl pop singers I liked when I was alone in my room, I could play pretend pop star whenever I showered, I could play with my female action figures without being judged. I loved being alone because I could somewhat be myself. Without noticing, I guess subconsciously the need to fit in socially starting pushing in. Still, the comfort of being alone was too good to leave, so I started surfing: male sport, cool sport, made me popular, but the thing I enjoyed the most was sitting for hours on my surfboard alone far away from the shore, surrounded by nothing but water and the sound of waves.
After some bullies at school found out I listened to Britney and Christina, they broke my CD case and I started listening to classic rock, 60’s rock to be more specific. I believed listening to those bands would be much more acceptable, to be more specific, it’d be much less gay and therefore, safer. Still, I never stopped singing and picturing myself as being the one who sang the female vocals. I listened to Paul McCartney & Wings but I always sang Linda McCartney’s vocal parts. Jefferson Airplane became my favourite band, not because of the handsome male lead, but because I loved to feel and pretend to sing like Grace Slick. I learned to hide myself behind some very convincing masks. I wanted to learn more about this music and, because I wanted to find time to spend just listening to music, I started going to the gym, where I would spend two hours disconnected from everything and everyone, just me and my headphones listening to Jefferson Airplane, the Mamas & the Papas, Fairport Convention, and picturing myself as being capable of singing like Grace Slick, Michelle Phillips or Sandy Denny. Of course, if anyone would ask, I’d immediately say I listened to Jefferson Airplane and would get a “wow, cool! Classic rock!” response, which I considered to be quite safe, and harmless, compared to replying I was listening to Madonna. I noticed there were boxing lessons in the same gym and I gave it a try: It didn’t involve talking at all and beating the only other person you’re supposed to interact with, so it seemed OK with me. I became very good at it. I spent 3-4 years in this routine, getting awful academic results but being steady with surfing, gym, boxing and music.
Without noticing, I was no longer thin, weak and tiny. Still, that image of a very skinny little guy stuck to my head, and still lies there today. I still wear baggy clothes to hide thin legs and arms, which don’t look thin at all nowadays, but my head keeps turning that reflection in the mirror into something I used to consider awful, embarrassing.
And that’s where reconciliation comes from. When I turned 20, I came out of the closet and now had to face a whole new issue: feeling sexually desirable, attractive, worth it. I hid behind the facade of being a publicist for almost 10 years, and I was hella good at it, but it just wasn’t for me. I enjoyed the prestige and the money, of course, but I felt empty. When I finally started coming to terms with myself and with what I was and what I wanted to be, I decided to live my life. I quit publicity, moved out of Lima and came to Madrid to start my master’s degree on sexology and sex education. I started doing porn. Both careers I love. Porn was too much exposure for someone who hates his body, but it was the perfect challenge, and I like to think I’ve learned a lot from it. Whenever I get a compliment about my physical appearance, I believe it’s mockery, but after working on porn, that initial sentiment of fear, of being laughed at, is slowly fading away. The skinny little guy I see in the mirror is slowly looking more and more like the guy I actually look like. Very slowly; very progressive, but still I can see the results of breaking free and experimenting with my sexuality as much as I like. A few months ago I was walking down the streets and I saw a guy with great legs and thought “man, I wish mine looked like that!”. I noticed it was my own reflection on a store’s windows. At first I felt really narcissistic, but then I realised it was a huge change in attitude. I actually liked myself.
Letting go of all the stigma has been a great exercise to come to terms with the little boy I used to be. Being weak was never wrong. Playing the role of weak and submissive is something I rather enjoy nowadays, and brings me a lot of joy, probably most of my favourite sexual experiences have involved the whole dominant/submissive theme. I see now how skinny looking men can also be very attractive and it’s not something that immediately brings me bad memories, but actually helped me notice how sexy it can be. Music has been the hardest part. I believe I actually really like my 60s rock and my 60’s chick singers and listening to pop girls nowadays still kinda brings me anxiety but, again, it’s slowly getting better and better. Reconciliation doesn’t have to mean I have to get rid of the “fake” persona I built in order to survive, but to come to terms with both the part I rejected and the part I had to become to keep me safe and sane.
Sexology has helped me understand a lot of this process and now I work by helping people go through this process. Porn made my process way easier, kinda forced me through a lot of the steps one would normally have to face to get to the point I’m in at the moment.. Even though isolation or loneliness are still among my main weapons of survival (and hobbies!), both porn and sexology taught me to make good friends, and boy I broke out of my shell! No parties at all, not yet, at least, but I rather enjoy company from time to time. Even though it took me 30 years to finally live my life the fullest and dedicating it to stuff I actually like and make me feel amazing, I can’t forget my sexuality has been kind of the main piece: sexuality no as the sex I have but the sex I am, the sexual being who is a man, gay, non monogamous, submissive, versatile, sexologist, porn actor and most importantly, happy and proud.