The Guardian

As new research shows, what are sometimes dismissed as hook-up apps provide a lifeline and community for those of us far from the bright lights of the big city

A drag queen poked her head out the door. She pointed an acrylic nail at us. “Y’all quit looking at that!” We giggled and scampered back into the bar. Being “in” on this joke was the first time I really felt like I was gay. Not in the sexual sense, but in a cultural one. I was a holder of secret knowledge. I went home that night feeling like I had completed an initiation ritual.

I gave little thought to who those men were. Over time, I learned they were truckers, fathers, husbands to wives, and out, older gay men. Most of them, though, were in the closet. I still had a lot of internalized homophobia at the time, and I’m sorry to say that I judged these men and saw them as freaks. I still believed, albeit on a subconscious level, that gay sex made you dirty, and cruising for it made you pathetic.

It’s the same internalized homophobia that makes gay men shame other gay men for using dating apps today. Read up on your queer history and you understand that, in fact, these apps can be a godsend for those have experienced violence and those of us who grew up in areas without any LGB resources. They have provided us with a means of connecting with each other that simply never existed before.

Today, we gay men are enjoying an unprecedented level of acceptance. I say we gay men, because bisexual men and transgender men are not as fortunate, and gay men of color often aren’t able to find acceptance within our own communities. Things are better, though we’re still far from equality.

Gay men slut-shaming other gay men is nothing new. I see it every day. I see gay men lamenting that romance is dead (when was it alive for us – during the 80s?) and that dating apps are turning us all into sluts.

Personally, I don’t think having a lot of sex makes you a bad person, nor that anyone should have to justify using an app for hookups. But I am especially happy that these apps exist for men who live in often-overlooked parts of the country. I don’t see it as a negative thing. I see it as the continuation of a legacy of survival against societal shame. Be it an earring or a strategically placed handkerchief, gay men have always invented clever ways to find each other. And recently, they’ve just got a whole lot better at it.