Excitable Man

Gay Men Need to Protect Themselves Too

Thu, 09 Apr 2026 00:00:00 GMT

Not long ago, a tailor shop opened in our residential community. The property management even promoted it in the group chat. I had a duvet cover that needed the zipper replaced, so I went to the shop. It was run by an elderly man.

The first time I went, there were two women in the shop. The old man’s words and behavior were completely normal. We chatted casually about everyday life. At the time, I even thought he seemed kind and approachable. From his appearance, he certainly did.

Some time later, I went back a second time. This time, he was alone. That was when he began testing the waters. He first asked whether I had a girlfriend, then whether I lived alone. After that, he started telling stories. He mentioned that he knew some men who lived together as a couple. At first, I didn’t realize he was laying the groundwork for something, so I just responded politely. I didn’t reveal that I’m gay. Then he talked about when he used to work in another city. He said that because he didn’t have much money, he shared a place with another man. Back then, he claimed, his sex drive was strong and he couldn’t always find women, so they would “play” with each other—getting each other hard, masturbating each other—and he described it in uncomfortable detail. I barely responded. As soon as my zipper was fixed, I picked up the duvet cover and left.

Unfortunately, another zipper on a different cover broke later. I considered going somewhere else, but his shop was extremely close to where I live, and I told myself he had only been talking—maybe it wouldn’t be a big deal. So I went back a third time. I didn’t expect he would take my earlier silence and lack of visible disgust as consent, as if that gave him an opening. He started the same way again, talking about men he knew who lived together. This time he added, “Nowadays this kind of thing is becoming more common. There are more and more gay people.” I casually asked, “Are you gay?” He said, “No. I’m just curious, and I want to release some urges. When gay people play, they do it from behind. I don’t do that.” I didn’t respond. He went on to describe, in uncomfortable detail, how he had fooled around with other men, even mentioning receiving oral sex. I just wanted the zipper fixed so I could leave as soon as possible.

Then the worst part happened. After I scanned the code and was about to enter the amount to pay, he suddenly reached over and grabbed my dick. He said, “Let’s see if you’re hard. If you are, do you want to play? There’s only me here anyway.” My mind went completely blank. The only thing on my face was an awkward smile. After I finished paying, I left immediately, but he had already touched me for a few seconds. Legally speaking, what he did was a crime. It was sexual assault.

I didn’t lash out or hit him right away. The immediate reason was that I was in the middle of entering the payment amount. I never expected him to use that moment to assault me, and my mind just froze. When I came back to myself, my first thought was that he was an old man. If I reacted physically, I might end up causing bigger trouble for myself. Even if the police got involved, because of his age, it seemed unlikely he would face serious consequences.

I had seen news stories about older men harassing or assaulting women. I never thought I would experience something like that in a same-sex context. Reality taught me a harsh lesson.

For me, even basic physical contact should happen only with mutual consent, let alone anything intimate. That principle has nothing to do with sexual orientation, gender, or age. It has everything to do with character.

I’m not a casual person.

That same day, I told two friends what had happened. Both immediately told me I did nothing wrong — that this was simply a bad person who happened to grow old. I agree completely.

How did I come out

Wed, 08 Jan 2025 00:00:00 GMT

I am a gamer and particularly love Nintendo games. The Mario series is my favorite. In my childhood, I only played Super Mario Bros on a Chinese pirated Famicom (Subor), and later played Super Mario Bros 2 USA and Super Mario Bros 3 through the Famicom emulator on Haojixing. After buying a Switch in 2022 and playing Super Mario Odyssey, I wanted to gradually complete all the Mario games, so I started playing them on PC through emulator.

The first two games I played were Super Mario Galaxy and Super Mario Galaxy 2. Both games were so incredible that I desperately wanted to discuss them with others. Since almost no one on Bilibili streamed Mario games, I turned to Twitch despite my limited English. There, I happily followed and chatted with streamers who played these games. After playing Super Mario Sunshine, I added that category to my Twitch follows as well.

One day, I encountered a European streamer playing Super Mario Sunshine. He wasn't playing it on Switch or emulator, but rather an original Gamecube with its classic 4:3 screen. When I first entered his stream, he had just finished a playthrough and the end credits were rolling. I typed in chat ‘oh, original Gamecube version’. This was my first interaction with him, but since he ended his stream shortly after, our conversation was brief. A few days later, I saw him playing Pikmin on Gamecube and joined his chat again. Due to the time zone difference, I had to leave for bed soon after. He sent me a whisper on Twitch asking if I'd like to join his Discord server.

When I first joined his Discord server, I noticed some gay-related discussions but didn't participate in them. Instead, I focused on Nintendo games, which were the topics I mainly discussed and initiated. Since I was not good at RTS games but wanted to learn more about Nintendo's first-party IPs, I asked him to record the playthrough of Pikmin. Around that time, The Thousand-Year Door remake was released on Switch. Being a famous title in the Mario RPG series that I had previously played on an emulator, I joined his streams to watch and discuss the remake.

Over time, life discussions became more frequent in the Discord. He shared a lot of scenery and food photos, and increasingly spoke about gay topics. Though I hadn't noticed he was gay from his streams, being gay myself made me eager to hear more stories, so I joined these conversations and asked about his experiences. Through our discussions, I discovered we shared something else in common—chronic illness—though his condition was more severe, requiring experimental treatments at the hospital. His family, particularly his mother, supported him in being true to himself. He had even found a boyfriend from South America through Facebook who traveled long distances to visit him. Another Discord member, a bisexual person from Europe, regularly participated in these conversations as well.

Besides, on Twitch, I also encountered streamers with "LGBTQFriendly" tag, along with others who openly identified as gay in their titles and descriptions. Chatting in these streams created such a welcoming atmosphere that it highlighted the strain of my own silence and hiding in real life. I longed to shed the fake composure I maintained behind a false mask.

So I planned to come out.

I first came out in that Gamecube player's Discord server, revealing that I was gay and had been hiding it for many years. I told them I planned to come out on social media as well. They three encouraged me to be brave and true to myself despite unaccepting environment in my place. I also confided in my best friend from college who now lives in Japan. Understanding how difficult it is to come out in my place, he offered his encouragement too.

I initially planned to come out on IDAHOBIT, but since that was more than half a year away, I moved the date to NCOD. My plan was to come out after the Chinese National Day holiday, but then my parents unexpectedly decided to visit from hometown during that time. I realized waiting until after they left would only make things worse, so I decided to gather my courage and face them directly.

And then things happened.

After coming out, I revisited the Twitch streams with the "LGBTQFriendly" tag and I felt brave enough to share in the chat that I had recently come out. In streams where streamers were openly gay, I even expressed my intention to start getting a boyfriend. I can feel my confidence, which I previously lacked, gradually emerging.

I shared this openly in a couple's gaming stream I follow on Bilibili. At first, they thought I was too serious, but their perception changed after I opened up to them.

I hope that you—who are also in the minority and remain watching in silence—can find your moment, summon the courage hidden within you for so long, and finally recognize your true self.

Inner change

Mon, 12 May 2025 00:00:00 GMT

During the past couple months, I've regularly encountered a man on my afternoon commute home by subway and bus. He has a distinctly Gay appearance and style. I only realized we lived in adjacent communities when I saw him getting off at the same stop. While I could't be completely certain he's Gay, the features seemed clear. If my assumption is correct, he would be the closest Gay person to me geographically. This thought has stayed with me, and I've wondered if there might be a way to confirm his orientation—perhaps through signals or subtle cues that only another Gay person would notice.

But it's difficult, and the reasons are complicated. On the one hand, Gay typically avoid making the first move without certainty about the other person's orientation—a wrong assumption could lead to awkward or even dangerous situations. On the other hand, most Gay don't feel comfortable openly expressing their identity, particularly in Asia and especially in China, where social acceptance remains limited. Though perhaps, more than anything, my hesitation stems from my own personality.

Let me clarify—I didn't want to approach him because of any romantic interest. Rather, if my intuition is correct, he would simply be the closest Gay person geographically. While I've made Gay friends online, mostly from other countries, I've never had any local connections. I suppose what I'm really seeking is someone who shares this part of my identity—someone I can talk to about these experiences and feel completely safe being myself.

At its heart, I simply want to connect with someone like myself. It's similar to how gamers seek out other gamers, or how otaku look for others who share their passion. This isn't about finding romance—it's about shared experiences, effortless conversations, mutual understanding, and the comfort of being around someone who gets it.

Eventually, I decided to try wearing something with an obvious signal of Bear identity. At the end of last month, I bought several T-shirts, shorts, and hats featuring the Bear pride symbol—since I identify as a Bear, and he appears to be one as well.

On Labor Day, May 1st, I ventured out for the first time dressed entirely in Bear apparel—a Bear Paw shirt, hat, and sandals. I told myself I was doing this to connect with others like me, to make friends. Yet the moment I stepped outside onto the street, something shifted within me. I realized this outfit wasn't really about finding others (though I still want Gay friends). It was about accepting myself—fully, genuinely.

Even while wearing something that openly signaled I'm a Bear, I could walk down the street, ride the metro, and go into rooms—naturally and calmly. This calm wasn't artificial—it came from deep within. I wasn't trying to prove anything or make a statement. It just suddenly hit me: Yes, this is who I am. I'm a Bear. Born this way. And that's perfectly fine.

I finally understood why, back in school, I always tried to be the peacemaker. Why I always took on more than I should have just to avoid conflict. It’s because I’m a warm-hearted Bear by nature. I may be bulky, but I’m solid and true. I may not have a gentle touch, but I always give them my heart.

Some might find it flashy when Gay wear Pride symbols, but I no longer concern myself with those opinions. Something far more significant has occurred: I've accepted myself. I am now comfortable being myself. This transformation wasn't planned or scheduled. It simply happened in one moment—bringing with it a sudden calm, a profound stillness I had never known before.

Body Positive

Sun, 06 Jul 2025 00:00:00 GMT

I'm an only child. According to my dad, I was a well-behaved eater from a young age. After being weaned, I got into a rhythm of three meals a day—never missing a single one. By the time I reached the upper grades of primary school, I was already chubby. Initially, my parents didn't seem concerned, but as I grew older, they began to criticize my body constantly. Although my mom frequently told me not to care what others think and to live for myself, she conveniently forgot that message when it came to my body.

One thing I remember vividly: during all four years of college, every Chinese New Year, my dad would drive us home for the holidays. And every time, during the trip, he would crack the same jokes: "The tires can't take your weight," or "The car's tilting to your side again." Maybe he thought it was funny, some kind of harmless banter—but each time, it ruined my good mood. Even when my face clearly showed I was upset, he wouldn't stop.

I know they just wanted me to lose weight. But their approach didn't motivate me—instead, it crushed what little body confidence I had left. Living in a body that doesn't conform to society's thin ideals already means facing the world's judgment. Add family pressure on top of that? It's like fighting a war on two fronts.

This was one reason I developed such a bad personality in college and after graduation. Another reason, which I've mentioned before, is that I had always hidden the fact that I was a Bear. Since coming out last year, I've begun actively seeking bear-related content—trying to connect with others like me.

That's how I discovered an American musician named Tom Goss, who writes songs for the gay community. He's written four bear-themed songs: Bears (2013), Round in All the Right Places (2018), Nerdy Bear (2020), and Bear Soup (2025). Each song comes with a music video featuring big, soft, confident bears showing up as their authentic selves. Even Tom himself, who's more on the slim side, fully embraces and celebrates the bear community. The atmosphere of inclusion and warmth hit me hard. As I write this blog, the Bear Soup video is playing. Another of Tom's songs, Enemy of Good, includes a lyric that also stuck with me: "Perfect's the enemy of good."

I've drawn immense bear energy from Tom Goss's music—energy I couldn't find anywhere in my real life. His music has helped me gradually rebuild my self-confidence. I've also started following many bears on Instagram—not for other purposes, but to absorb the confident way they present their bodies. Their confidence is contagious, and I'm using it to build my own.

Since coming out last year, I've begun to be extroverted. I'm pushing myself to connect with people more actively and express myself with greater confidence in my body. Though I'm still far from becoming the version of myself I aspire to be, I've taken the first step—and there's no returning to who I used to be.

Just before I started writing this blog, I got off the phone with my mom. She scolded me again for wearing shorts that were "too short", saying my thighs were too thick and I should wear longer pants to cover them up. This time, I didn't shrink back or dodge the topic. I answered her directly: "I wear what I want, for myself. I like how I look—that's all that matters." And then I sat down and wrote this blog.

Actually, two weeks ago, I left a comment under Tom Goss's Enemy of Good video saying I would write a blog inspired by this lyric.

And here it is.