Nowadays, countless well-intentioned, but profoundly confused, parents of children with same-sex attraction willingly offer up their kids to the homosexual lifestyle – thinking that they are being non-judgmental, caring, and ultimately loving. But, the modern mind has been deceived by a spun media lie concerning the real nature of the gay world – especially in terms of what awaits teenage boys just entering the gay sexual arena.

When young men become involved with homosexuality, they do so typically on account of one or more of the three following circumstances: they grew up with an absent or neglectful father, or an overbearing mother with a weak male role model; molestation – usually by an older male; or an early exposure to pornography. Therefore, as teenagers, these boys are already suffering from a psychological wound which makes them especially vulnerable to manipulation and aggressive, but seemingly affectionate, advances by more experienced males. In fact, when I first arrived in San Francisco in 1988, at the age of 18, after growing up as a skinny, pimpled, glasses-wearing sissy-boy, I suddenly discovered that handsome and masculine men wanted to dance with me, sit next to me at the bar, and buy me drinks. I wasn’t alone anymore, I didn’t feel awkward, and I was no longer the unwanted outsider. And, it felt good. Only, all this attention came at a heavy price.

During my first night in the Castro, throughout my first visit to a gay dance club – I was endlessly propositioned by men old enough to be my father. Strangely, they instinctively knew how to reel-in a vulnerable newbie like myself: they said they would protect me; break me in gently; and be the dad I never had. This played into all my fears and insecurities, and, it seemed, as if they were offering that which I had sought my entire life – validation from another man. Then, after officially being gay for less than 24 hours, I went home with a perfect stranger. Thankfully, or not, I sort of knew what was about to happen from the years I spent obsessed with porn. In those videos, I heard dialogue such as: the constant use of the term “daddy;” more harrowing phrases like “it’s gonna hurt” or “torn apart.” Only, now, I was willing to accept that – it was an initiation; and, as they all said – it’s always painful the first time around.

I survived – sore and bloodied; I was soiled; I had been marked. I stepped across a line and knew that everything was about to change. For, in a sense, the struggle was over – I was gay and there was nothing I could do about it. That day had been a trial by fire – a rite of manhood; I felt slashed, but oddly contented: finally, I belonged. I sacrificed my soul to gain the world. For, that night, I not only offered up my body, but everything that I was; because part of the sexual techniques used by gay men to make sodomy possible involves the use of muscle-relaxing inhalants and a bizarre process of meditation that is similar to the Christian concept of “centering” prayer or the Buddhist philosophy of “emptiness.” In order to become a receptive sexual partner – total relaxation (or total inebriation) were a necessity; if not, injury was a more than likely result. Through these sex-rituals – a darkness entered my being; suddenly, sexuality became progressively more and more violent and perverse. I was no longer satisfied with just a single man paying me attention – I needed more. A rampant form of promiscuity took over; then, a sudden openness to public sex, bondage, and gangbangs. It was as if the nothingness had consumed me – and, no matter how hard I tried, everything failed to fill that void.