I recall when I was in university in 1982. I enrolled in a film studies class, and one of the films we watched was Pagan Rhapsody. There is a scene in the film where two men play a sex scene. Though the scene was as vanilla as possible–there was kissing and a little friendly groping (nothing graphic)–the student audience’s vocal expressions of disgust were notable. In 2024, male homosexuality was generally accepted as a natural expression of human intimacy and treated with sensitivity in film and television. Netflix series such as Young Royals and Heartstopper feature a gay romance and intimacy between high school boys in a way that leaves something to the viewers’ imagination. Both series are immensely popular with younger viewers. Things have changed since the screening of Pagan Rhapsody in 1982. Still, when it comes to public perceptions of intimacy between gay men, there are a lot of people who have an unsavoury fixation on what they imagine goes on when two men are intimate. I get expressions of disgust in the comments on blog posts I write on gay rights advocacy, where people say things like, “There’s nothing more disgusting than two men fucking each other in the ass,” and “Cocksucking is not a men’s issue.” I mean, that is beyond the pale.

It reminds me of my adolescence when I struggled with the stirrings of my same-sex attraction. The sex education I received in health class in high school covered basic heterosexual coitus, the male and female reproductive organs, their function, and how the pregnancy was the intended result when a man and woman copulated. There was no discussion of sex acts outside of heterosexual coitus. What little I knew of male homosexuality growing up was what I heard others say–that homosexuals were disordered, perverted and obsessed with sex, particularly with underage boys. Beyond that, I heard lots of crude references to homosexual sex, like buggery and cornholing, fudge packing, fucking and sucking, gross indecency, etc. That and the widely held notion that gay men were sex obsessed and promiscuous and the prospect of a long-term relationship between two men was unlikely. The views on perversion and promiscuity among gay men stung.

The portrayal of male homosexuality in television series in the 1970s typically featured men in leather bars. I knew about bathhouses from news reports on police raids in four gay bathhouses in Toronto in 1981. I learned of a gay cruising ground in Ottawa, serving in the Canadian Army as a reservist in 1980 at Canadian Forces Base Petawawa. A man in the transport company I served mentioned how he and his friends went to roll the faggots at Major’s Hill Park in Ottawa. MacDonald Park in Kingston was better known as “pervert park” by students. It was a cruising ground. Gay men had an image problem, and it made it difficult for me to accept that I was gay. I knew that I was not mentally ill or a pervert, and neither was I interested in bathhouses, cruising grounds and a life of tricking.

When I experienced an attraction to other boys when I was in high school, I knew I wanted to hold and kiss them, but beyond that, I had no idea how to proceed. I knew that I was not interested in anal sex; that is my preference–it falls outside my level of comfort. It was not until I had my first sex with a man, a fellow student in university, that I enjoyed sexual pleasure. It was not without trepidation that I consented. I leafed through the pages of a book called The Joy of Gay Sex once, so I had a rough idea of what to expect. My student friend had gay sex before, so he was comfortable and patient with me. I was upfront with him in my refusal to have anal sex, and he told me to relax. He was not interested either, and he told me that it was not that common among gay men. I found as we got underway that I enjoyed sharing intimacy with him. It felt natural to me. We lay together, satisfied and fell asleep in each other’s arms. It was the first step on the road to accepting my homosexuality.

Posted by Geoffrey