Through With Love: Why These Black Gay Men Are Preparing For Life Alone
Photo by Kelly Searle on Unsplash
“Alexa, play “Through With Love” by Destiny’s Child.”
It’s been nearly 17 years since the music and lyrics of this defiant and woman-empowered song found its way into the consciousness of listeners around the world. And while the R&B trio may have written the song from a Black woman’s perspective, there appears to be no shortage of Black gay men who relate to the lyrical content and have given up on the idea of falling in love. Instead, they are preparing themselves to experience life alone, well into their golden years.
During a time when social media and digital apps have made it easier for people to connect, many of its users report never feeling more alone. It’s a complicated dichotomy that has forced many Black gay men to make tough decisions about their future and whether it will include a romantic life partner.
For author Casey Hamilton, 33, the answer to experiencing the next phase of his life with another Black gay man after several hurtful and disappointing past relationships is a resounding no. The Baton Rouge, LA native who was raised Jehovah’s Witness moved to Atlanta ten years ago in search of freedom as a gay man in a city he believed increased his chances of finding love.
“Atlanta was always the place where you can kind of go and be free,” says Hamilton. “I was drawn to Atlanta in that way, and I knew it was so many Black gay men there, I thought it was the place for me. Of course, I was very young and in college. I thought it would increase my odds of meeting someone, honestly,” he says.
Looking back on his college days, his sheltered upbringing in Baton Rouge and his introduction to life as a Black gay man in Atlanta, Hamilton hints at being socially unprepared for the experiences that would inform his future decisions regarding relationships.
“I didn't get a cell phone until I started college. So when everything finally happened, it happened really fast. I got a boyfriend. I wasn't even sure how gay sex worked,” says Hamilton.
“We were off and on through all four years of college—every other semester, we're on, we're off,” recalls Hamilton of his first relationship with a man.
“He cheated on me. I forgave all that stuff. And in between that, I dated some other people. It was just a mess, really,” he says.
“I don’t want to get hurt like that again. And most of my experience with dating as a Black gay man who likes men has been hurt.”
While Hamilton points to the dysfunction that existed within this early relationship, he tells The Reckoning that it was his most recent relationship that ended as quickly as it began during the early days of the pandemic that forced him to reevaluate if love from another Black gay man was attainable.
“It was only a few months. I've never been able to go past, for whatever reason, the three and a half month mark of a consistent relationship without there being a breakup, and maybe we get back together for a little bit,” he says. “I can only tell you that it was a very full few months for me.”
After the breakup, Hamilton says he “went through a period where it was hard for him to sleep or eat.”
“I was in a really bad place. I felt like it honestly was my last relationship ever,” he says. “Look, I'm not innocent, and I haven't always been the good guy in a relationship. But for it to end how it did was a real big disappointment, especially knowing that I gave 100 this time. This was me at my most honest, my most communicative, my most attentive. So knowing that even when you give 100 to someone that you can still get the same result, I felt defeated.”
In a dating and sex app-driven culture, the popular go-to apps for gay men are not on Hamilton's smartphone, instead, he’s opted out of dating and is shifting his focus to self-love and his upcoming book release.
“I don't want to get hurt like that again,” he says. “And most of my experience with dating as a Black gay man who likes men has been hurt.”
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Emotional Connection or Business Transaction?
While Hamilton’s smartphone may not include dating apps, Vaughn Alvarez, 31, CEO and Founder of CR8 Agency, invested in a paid subscription of Tinder Pro when he hoped that a romantic relationship was still within reach.
“I don't know where people put it [Tinder] on their phones, but I would just find that the conversations wouldn't go anywhere,” says Alvarez.
“It would just kind of die out, or you would see the same person on app to app. So you start a conversation on Tinder, then you move to IG, then they’d stop talking on one of the two,” he says.
A recognizable face in entertainment circles in Atlanta, Alvarez says it often becomes difficult to determine if a potential partner is interested in him or what he can do to advance their careers.
“I meet a lot of people that, unfortunately, are just looking for a connection to get to the next phase in their life or whatever their dream is,” says Alvarez. “And because I'm not necessarily looking to be somebody's connection all the time, I can end up meeting and falling into the trap of someone who is just out for number one, which is themselves.”
“I would constantly get, especially in Atlanta, you know, ‘I’m looking for someone a little bit more masculine.’ That was definitely very hurtful for a long time.”
Originally from the DMV area, Alvarez moved to Atlanta a decade ago after a brief stint in Nashville. He tells The Reckoning that before he became more comfortable with himself, he experienced additional dating challenges because of his gender presentation, which leans into the feminine.
“I would constantly get, especially in Atlanta, you know, ‘I’m looking for someone a little bit more masculine.’ That was definitely very hurtful for a long time. But as I got comfortable with myself, that changed and I started to attract people that were okay with that,” he says.
Yet, according to Alvarez, his dating life, or lack thereof, always seemed to be “connected to people that are already in something, coming out of something, or finding themselves healing,” which thwarts his efforts to connect with other Black gay men emotionally and physically.
“I’m more into companionship. I haven't had sex, like, real sex in maybe three years. So I'm hopeful for the companionship aspect,” says Alvarez.
But his hope in finding and maintaining a relationship has quickly diminished.
"I think that I've just lost hope because you just continue to have all of these bad situations,” says Alvarez. “You talk to someone for three weeks and you're like, man, I think I like this guy. I think it's going to work out. Then they go ghost on the iPhone. You look at your texts and one day turns into two days, two days turns into five days, and you haven’t heard from this person. Then you look up and they’ve met somebody else or they're not interested in what you're interested in or it’s moving too fast. And so that makes you not hopeful. And it makes you feel like it's not going to happen,” he says.
Photo by Olhar Angolano on Unsplash
Peace From Broken Pieces
While it has yet to happen for Alvarez or Hamilton, it happened for Corey Punzi, 46, a marketing consultant and single father to 13-year-old son, Kaleb. The Long Island, NY native, has called Atlanta home since 1996. Punzi met his ex-husband on Facebook in 2017. In the short span of a year, Punzi proposed—the couple married in June 2019, and by September 2019, they were filing for divorce—leaving Punzi and his son without stable housing and having to rely on the kindness of friends and expensive hotel stays after being asked to leave the marital home owned by his ex. Punzi’s dream of having a family of his own became a nightmare that forced him into survival mode and to depart Atlanta for Birmingham, AL.
“I was just trying to get the hell on,” says Punzi. “I packed up my car. I had a little two-seater Mercedes. I packed up everything that I could put in that bitch and I hit it,” he says.
Punzi tells The Reckoning that he “always wanted to be married and have a family, but the toxic and passive-aggressive behavior exhibited by his ex destroyed their plans for the future.
“My parents were together, they were married, we all lived in the same house, everybody had the same last name. And so when I thought I found somebody that was on the same page with me in that respect, I jumped on it,” he says.
In the weeks and months following their split, Punzi says he had both an emotional and physical reaction to their divorce.
“It blew me away. It increased my anxiety. It increased my depression. I would get hives. I had a very physical reaction to it,” he says.
“People will be like, ‘Oh, you don’t look 46.’ But once I say it, it’s embedded in their head. And it’s like a shift occurs.”
While Punzi admits that his “head and heart aren’t in alignment” regarding future relationships, he is clear about his son being his top priority, and a potential relationship a far distant afterthought.
“One time we had a conversation, and he said to me, ‘once this is all over can we never talk about him again?’ And I said, okay,” recalls Punzi. “And to be honest, that's the last conversation that we had about that. I don't want to have somebody ask me how this relationship negatively impacts my son.”
For Punzi, a gay man who is closer to 50 than he is 30, dating will mean he’ll have to deal with the ageism that exists in the gay community, and specifically on dating apps.
“People will be like, ‘Oh, you don't look 46.’ But once I say it, it's embedded in their head. And it's like a shift occurs,” he says.
“Keeping it a hundred. I've even dumbed my age down a little, just to be, I guess, competitive,” says Punzi. “I fluctuate between [ages] 32 and 30 [on dating apps].”
For both Hamilton and Alvarez, ageism is an ever-present threat that makes dating even more difficult and an easier choice for them to pursue lifetime bachelor status.
“As I get older, I mean, even for straight people, the odds of meeting someone aren't increasing. It’s a very superficial community, honestly. I love being Black and gay, but it's based on very physical things. And that changes, that fades,” says Hamilton.
“I'm also okay with the fact that this just may be my street,” says Alvarez. “This just may be what is in the cards for me. And maybe that's my ministry. Maybe that's what I'm supposed to talk about. Maybe I'm supposed to have temporary highs in love,” he says.
For now, Alvarez says he’d be content with having someone to travel with who he can receive a good night and good morning text from. And in those moments when he experiences loneliness, he reminds himself to take a beat and assess the feeling because “every day is a different day and every day you find the strength to move on.”
