As a gay man in my late forties I used to struggle with being called a ‘daddy’. Somebody using that word will enter into a 90% chance of being blocked online. I used to struggle being ‘reduced’ to a stereotype. I could not see a way forward, first I was very set on my ways of what I liked, and a boyish look did not rock my boat either. Then it was the language, I wanted to use online chats to establish meaningful connection. An attitude that highlighted just one of my attributes was already a no no. I wanted to chat and create a flow to get to know the other person. That start was not a good start.
What does ‘daddy’ mean to me?
At the time being called a daddy made me feel old. Certainly I could be ‘classed’ as a daddy but why would somebody would like to do that me?. I am nobody’s daddy, I like men who stand in their own to feet. I wanted a man not a boy.
I was certain I was not missing anything. Wrong energy. Waste of time.
My tantric journey started with a conviction that it would make me a better lover, a stud in bed. It then moved towards a total different dimension of spiritual growth I became in contact with my suffering.
I was convinced I was some sort of alpha male, of course I would be attracting ‘boys’, ‘how could they not be attracted to me?’ …. so as you can sense I was already up my own ass.
In previous entries I have talked about how I discovered that in my head I was running a classification of people: A (above me), B (me – not bad but still plenty to improve) and C (below me – boys came into this C-section).
This way of seeing the world in reality was full of suffering. So much inadequacy internalised. So much pain while growing up and feeling that i was not good enough.
My reaction to be called a daddy was nothing more than a man unable to be playful. What is actually wrong in another guy showing their interest?, why should I get angry about another man’s way of showing affection?.
A little story
One day my Grindr beeped. Nice guy, quite muscley. Uhhmmm he could do, however he is in another city, but I am travelling there over the weekend. He is quite young…. uhmmm not sure.
That evening a facebook message came. A girl I have not seen for 10 years is contacting me. She is looking for a sperm donor. Apparently there is some advantage regarding legislation if you are Spanish, I got quite shocked.
I could have a baby. Maybe the universe is trying to tell me something. I had a partner at the time who really wanted a baby, could this be the way?. Mixture of excitement and also already a gut feeling that it was a bad idea.
A few hours passed and I said to my friend that I did not know anybody Spanish who could be a donor but I would keep her posted.
I got home and Mr Grindr contacted me again. Uhhhm he is so sexy. He is also into nipple play. Can we do a bit of a sexy play on line?. We started to exchange videos. He is so mad about nipples and he seems to like my chest. I start making horny videos using ice cubes on my nipples, being outrageous and I suddenly find myself calling him ‘boy’. He never has said the word daddy but that really got him going. I am so ready for you ‘daddy’!’, ‘are you going to hang from my nipples boy?, ‘yes daddy I so want you in me’, ‘I am so going to make your nipples explode, boy…;.’ Anyway you get the picture.
I met him a few days later. We had a wonderful afternoon in an art gallery. He was sexy as hell. We walked around London. We had cake. We got together in a sex club and we had a pretty dirty great time. He was bright as hell, build like a brick and kind.
That night I accepted that in reality, when my friend was contacting for my sperm, what I was entering is the acceptance of my ‘daddyhood’. Nothing wrong with fun. Nothing wrong with filthy fun.
Tantra made me realise that if I feel I am an label is only in my head. Does it really matter?. More to be gained by expanding my world view. He was such a nice BOY.