June 2025
By Chris Chi
Sharing stories about us
| Hello beautiful people, Sorry that it took such a long time for this newsletter to arrive in your mailbox. For the last months, I have been focusing my energy on planning events and workshops so much so that there’s barely any time left to do other things, including writing the newsletter. Nevertheless, it’s good to reflect, take a pause, look back at what have happened and revisit the stories to make sense of all that life has thrown at us. |
Loses
| I didn’t expect what T. would say to me after I arrived at his home. “How are you doing?” The most banal greeting you can say in the very beginning of the meeting. A question I don’t particularly like, sometimes even avoid answering it on purpose. Somehow, I asked him the question out of old habit. He struggled to answer. He just had a chill party at his place, the details of which he kept to himself. “What’s wrong?” I was a bit puzzled. Then he said, “Oh, you didn’t know. I thought you knew.” “What should I have known?” I was even more concerned. “My bf died almost one year ago, shortly after your husband. We are going through similar things.” Oh, wow, for a second, I was speechless, like all the air around me gone. I had no idea. It must have been tough for him. Suddenly it started to make sense. Last time when T. came to my place, he looked different somehow from what I had remembered, a few years after I photographed him. He just broke up with this influencer guy who was always treated as the prettier and the more popular one, while he was the ugly duck. T. felt being neglected in this unbalanced relationship. He found his way out by resorting to other guys and eventually ended the relationship. It was a difficult period back then but he was fine. Now he just looked beaten, tired, and was more distant than usual. He’s like an unleashed beast, silently drawn in physical pleasure just to lick his wounds. “How? What? Who?” It’s my turn to struggle. T.’s bf died from influenza, without any warning. After being sent to the hospital, it’s already too late. “48 hours, the doctor told us.” T. said. “48 hours” I heard that number too one year ago at the hospital. “Then he’s gone. I still get mad sometimes and want to ask him why and how he could leave like that. Everything was perfect before that. He’s the love of my life. Suddenly he’s not here anymore. It feels like everything we had was a dream.” I could feel his pain and I understand this feeling too well. I ask myself the same question, even though I know there’s no answer to this question, I can’t help myself. Grieving is a very personal process. Each one deals with it differently and experiences it with a multitude of emotions. I look back at the still on-going journey that I have taken so far. I feel very powerless to find comforting words to say to him. The pain is here, obviously. The longing is strong. The void is ever lasting. “Find strength in the memories and the love that you have shared together. Find strength in the pain and the sorrows that remind you everyday that he is not forgotten. He is now part of you and won’t die again. You are not the same you anymore. The world you once knew is gone. But it’s ok.” I told him about Jos, his last days, and my regrets that I didn’t realize it earlier, not having spent more time with him, and taken better care of him. “You did all you could.” T. said. Yes, but still, I would have given up everything if I could do more and better. I didn’t ask T. about his boyfriend, his relationship and how he was dealing with all this in details. It’s too fresh perhaps, too hard. I was cautious, as I didn’t want to overwhelm him again by digging up the memories. However, I realized later that maybe it’s exactly what he needed it, talking about his man, feeling his love for him again, finding comfort in the pain and sadness. Next time when I meet T. again, I will tell him that I want to listen to their stories. T. can decide if he wants to share them. Later that day, when I got back home, I opened T.’s instagram to find who his bf was. There they were, 2 photos of their holidays at the seaside, with hashtags, “couplesgoal and “loveislove”. They looked extremely happy, radiant. Then, there’s another photo, of a bracelet with a tiny heart. I know what it is as I received the same one that day when he’s gone. “Fleeing with my little heart.” The caption reads. Then I decided it’s enough before it got too painful. Even today, it’s hard to tell where I am now on this journey of finding myself or reconstructing myself. I feel like I have lived many lives in the past year. It’s hard, super hard, unimaginably hard, but I survived. So did T. Let’s hope time will heal the pain. |
Angelo from Paris
| I never thought I’d end up in a serious relationship with a Christian man and center-right-wing politician but that’s exactly what happened here in Brussels. Funny how life truly works in mysterious ways. I tend to be a free-spirited artist, who continuously try and deconstruct all the things I’ve been taught as a kid, which I swallowed but always completely felt that they weren’t for me. There is nothing I fear more than the norm and traditional values. I radically escaped those in my twenties —finding peace— allowing me to cultivate now a more nuanced and curious perspective on them. But I still remain a dreamer, very left-wing, politically furious about the current news and exploring queerness through daily efforts of pushing boundaries for a more fluid world in gender looks and roles and in everything else. But one night, as I was proposing on Grindr to draw people as nude models, I saw him. Even though I drew 5 other men before him, there is something in his profile that felt so familiar as if I already knew exactly how he would be and how he would behave. I treated him differently by omitting the drawing part and proposed to meet for a massage directly. |
| I gave him my address in Sablons, told him to climb 3 floors and opened the door almost naked just wearing my loose linen underwear. I didn’t speak much, but stared a lot. I liked what I saw. He was indeed exactly how I thought he’d be. He nervously asked many questions about myself in a row until I cut him and suggested to get to the massage. He started massaging my back, as we agreed. It wasn’t great. But then I massaged his. I loved his body. The smell, the hairiness, the slight chubbiness too but positive manliness overall. I went everywhere, from the back to the arms, then legs to the feet, and finally the ass cheeks. I laid my body on his and started to lick his ear. He started to softly moan. From this moment we both knew we’d go beyond a simple back massage, and we did. I’ve been dating this man for 8 months now and we are radically opposite. He has a mathematical, economic and liberal perspective of the world and I still catch myself dreaming of a people revolution from the bottom up where we destroy all city roads and grow food on every street. Funny how I date the very same thing I strongly parted with. I wonder how long it will last. |
Leander in Antwerp
| In the beginning, he was my hero, the one who pulled me out of my shell. Before him, I had always been reserved, unsure of myself, constantly second guessing everything I did. But with him, it was different. He made me feel good in a way I hadn’t before, like I could finally be myself, like I could do anything. His attention and affection lit me up, and for the first time, I felt truly happy and confident. He encouraged me to speak my mind, to be bold, and with him by my side, I started to believe in myself more than I ever had. It felt like I was finally breaking free, and the world seemed so much brighter with him in it. We had the best time in the world. But as time passed, I began to notice cracks in our perfect image. It started with small things—he’d disappear for hours without explanation or stay up late alone. I tried to brush it off, convincing myself it was nothing, until the signs became impossible to ignore. There were bottles hidden around the house, and I’d find evidence of drugs he’d tried to keep secret. When I confronted him, he’d downplay it, saying it was just to “take the edge off” or claiming he had it under control. But I could see it was more than that. His drinking escalated, and the drugs became more frequent, dragging him into dark moods, pulling him further away from the person I thought I knew. Still, I held on, thinking I could help him, believing it was just another part of his charm, and that somehow I could fix what was broken. |
| I found myself changing, bit by bit. I became more careful, always trying to avoid saying or doing something that might set him off. It felt like I was constantly walking on eggshells, unsure of which version of him I would get on any given day. One minute, he’d be affectionate, making me believe everything was fine, and the next, he’d be cold, distant, leaving me desperate to win back his approval. I began to feel trapped in this endless cycle of highs and lows, never knowing where I stood. But deep down, I knew this wasn’t love—it was control. In the end, leaving him is hard, but it’s also the most liberating thing I’ve ever done. There’s so much to untangle, and now I can see just how deep his control ran. But I’m fighting through it, and with every step, I feel a little lighter. My friends are here for me in ways I never imagined. They saw what I couldn’t, and when I finally opened up to them about everything—the lies, the addiction, the way he made me feel small—they rallied around me with so much love and support. They remind me of who I am, how much stronger and more secure I’ve become. With their strength behind me, I’ve found the courage to walk away, even though starting over is terrifying. It’s not easy—these days are filled with uncertainty and fear—but for the first time in a long time, I feel hopeful. With my friends standing by my side, I’m growing stronger with every step, more like myself again. I’m not alone, and for the first time in forever, I feel free, supported, and ready for a new beginning. |
Featured Artist: BUBNOVSKI
| Photos by Bubnovski |
Massage does you good
| I didn’t expect that one day I’d give people massages, but it just happened. Knowing too well the muscle pains and the stress one can get, I think one should take care of his own body and mind. Massage can be very beneficial. Unfortunately, it’s a luxury to get a massage in Belgium due to the costly price. Sometimes, people not only look for relaxation, physical relief, but also for sensuality and connection. For that type of massage, it’s even more unaffordable. For a long time, I thought it’d be nice to have a massage partner so we can exchange simple massages and help to improve each other’s health. After attending the massage workshops that took place in May as a part of taleofmen events, I discovered that giving massage has its own benefits as well. It’s like therapy. My mind was avoid of worries and troubles, my breath became more controlled while my hands were flying. The sensuality had a soothing effect on your emotions. The skin to skin touch was a bless. So I decided to give it a go, bought a massage table and practiced massages on a few friends and lucky boys. After receiving very positive feedbacks, I want to offer it to a bigger public. It’s not about making money but taking care of one’s body and mind. I was encouraged by people around to use my skills to create relaxing and sensual moments. And I am very happy to do it. Why not give it a try? Treat yourself a massage with me. |
Tale of Men EVENTS & COMMUNITY
| The growth of the community is astonishing. Currently there are about 200 people who have joined the community. Managing this community and planning all the events require tremendous energy and time, but it’s absolutely worth it. In April and May, for the first time ever, I managed to organize naked yoga, massage workshops, shibari workshop and naked workout for the community. It’s awesome to witness such enthusiasm and bound. The goal is to keep offering them and connecting more people. Check out the latest events and join us. |
TALE OF MEN ZINES
It’s been one year since the last issues were published. Now it’s time to create a new one. I want to dedicate this new issue to friendship and love, to all the people that I have met at the events. Taleofmen is really about sharing, to celebrate us. Meanwhile, the new issue will also invite other photographers to share their beautiful captures of tender and passionate moments. Stay tuned!
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