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Like most Grindr accounts, mine was as anonymous as it could be. Of course, it had to be, to protect my identity from those who might judge me for using the app.
My usual day would always start and end in opening the app, with the hope of chatting and meeting someone, and just going along with what the app will have to offer. Eventually, one night, this led to my first encounter with M.
We were actually just less than 100 meters away from each other during that moment of initial connection, so I quickly chatted him by asking him with a casual, standard opener, “What’s up?”
Quickly, we got to discussing the specifics of what we both wanted to do. Whose place will it be? Who will do what? Would that feel good? The time and place was very soon set. And since my place was available, I offered it, and he responded accordingly with a prompt arrival.
That first night with M. was the sexiest, and I think one of the best nights I ever had with anyone. He was indeed the man of my desires and gave me the kind of pleasure I used to only fantasize about. The night ended with so much fun. It was satisfying.
In the coming days, we continued chatting using the app. He eventually insisted on getting my number.
“For what?” I asked. I felt reluctant, confused, apprehensive. Cynical, even. Why would this guy who I had fun with in just one night would want to get my number all of a sudden? But since he’s cute, and because in fact, I wanted to have another round with him, I gave in. I gave him my number.
Days and days passed, and we continued to exchange text messages after I gave him my number. We were able to discuss a lot of things. It felt like answering questions from a slum book, or stumbling upon revelations from autobiographies. We went from light talks that had no topic in particular, to discussions of matters on a deeper, personal level.
I felt some sort of connection. But I played it cautiously, because I didn’t want to give meaning to any of it. I just went on with the flow. Soon, we were talking about relationships. We even asked each other what we consider to be the top traits of someone in a relationship. I confidently gave him my answers, because I was certain about what I want, particularly from a relationship.
One night, before I went to sleep, he insisted on visiting me. Once again, the reluctant, confused, apprehensive and cynical me just thought that maybe we’ll just have another round of no-strings-attached fun, so I agreed.
To my surprise, he brought with him some cake, with the cutest smile beaming as he walked towards me. I remember his soothing scent, and right then and there I recognized a beautiful soul in front of me. That moment made me let go of my armor. That moment disarmed my reluctant, confused, apprehensive and cynical self, surrendering to a night of chit chat until 3 a.m. Of course, it wasn’t all chit chat – we had the fun-filled sex I expected. I was by then head over heels, and fell asleep with my heart filled with joy.
The days passed and we continued to chat. Soon, I found myself suddenly missing his presence on random moments. One time, I asked if we can meet for dinner, or if I could just visit him in his office. Despite my excitement and positivity, my first offer was turned down. He said he was “kinda busy” and would not be able to go out with me.
In the coming days, I continued to invite him to sleep over, meet up with me, have breakfast, or go for a walk, but all I ever got was a load of excuses. At first, I was not even doubtful about these excuses because I wanted to give him instead the benefit of the doubt. He also cited family problems, being depressed, some work problems, and other personal issues. Still, these were excuses I refused to recognize for what they really were. Excuses piled up over lots of other excuses. This made me realize that something’s really wrong.
I decided to follow my gut to know exactly what’s going on. I asked myself why this cute, handsome guy, who made me feel so special, is now not giving a damn about what we have recently shared together. I needed answers. I knew I had to do something drastic.
I created a second account.
I was able to prove my hunch true. After we matched through my second account, he quicly replied, not knowing it was me. He said he wanted to meet me, to have fun and then have sex with me. Of course he asked for my photo, but I refused, telling him that I don’t just give away my photos. He excitedly asked where I was, then asked if we can meet. I declined.
Then, shifting to my first account, I messaged him and asked if we can meet. He turned me down, told me he’s not in the mood, and that he’s really busy doing something else. He ended our chat by saying he just wants us to be friends and that he doesn’t want to have sex with a friend.
I was so angry, but more of sad, and asked myself what I’ve done wrong to deserve this. I deleted my second account, then blocked M. from my first account.
I felt so bad about myself, especially for the times that I let my guard down and trusted someone whom I thought was willing to get to know me. It took quite a while to accept that whether or not other men would turn out to be a-holes like M., I shouldn’t allow anyone to make me feel less. I may have learned it the hard way, and maybe I will still meet others like M. in the future, but at least I already know how I could deal with it.
Most importantly, I realized that all of this may have started from me choosing to go anonymous in the first place, in hiding. How can I claim that I indeed love myself and put myself first above anything if I am shrouded by a secret identity? Now, I don’t find the need anymore to hide behind an anonymous profile. I put up photos of myself in my account because I am no longer ashamed of who I am, will no longer be afraid of expressing what I want, and shall always walk with pride.
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Kurt Silvano proudly works as an employee programs officer at Globe. He is a volunteer at the leadership and coaching company Innov8, and serves as counselor at the NGO Loveyourself, Inc. which advocates AIDS awareness and self-empowerment.
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