Accepting My Gay, Black, & Asperger’s Identity by Dontai Carmon
I
am a 30-year-old, gay, bipolar black man with high functioning autism. I knew I liked guys
“Dontai, why do you like boys?” and I would always say, “I don’t know.” I thought something was
I was diagnosed with Asperger’s (a condition on the autism spectrum) at 12, a late age to be diagnosed with a developmental disorder. It took many years to face this reality and accept myself. I honestly wondered if there could be such a thing as being both gay and autistic! That’s how closeminded I was. As the years went by, I met other gay guys who had different types of disabilities. It felt pretty good knowing that I was not alone.
God saying, “Lord, why didn’t you make me a girl?” I seriously thought I was going to hell for being attracted to guys.
Coming Out of the Closet I had certain experiences in my childhood that confused me but led me to understand my sexuality. I would always hug and kiss my male friends on the cheek, and sometimes grab their butts. I always liked the way men looked, especially one of my mother’s friends. When I was around seven years old, we had one of those hot boxes for the TV, and I found porn on the Spice Channel. The choices were either straight or lesbian porn. I never understood why they wouldn’t show two guys. If you could show two women, you could show two men; that’s how I saw it. I was very sexually confused. I would often ask myself,
20 options
February/March 2021
At age 11, my sexuality drifted. I felt my hormones raging. My attraction to guys faded, and I was girl-crazy for a while. When I was 14, I attended a summer day camp and had my (I had only ever kissed a girl at school before.) After swimming in the pool, I went to the showers with a boy named Jovany and another male friend. One thing led to another, and suddenly Jovany started giving the other boy oral sex. I was shocked and didn’t say anything because I was aroused. Then, I gave Jovany oral sex. Did I like it? Yes, but I didn’t want anyone to know. Someone must have told, because my mom and I were called to a meeting at the pool. Fortunately no one seemed angry or upset, not even my mom. In a shaking, embarrassed, and small voice, I confessed to the sexual activity, and put my head down and covered my face. My mom may not have been mad, but she was still concerned about her young son. I am glad she showed concern instead of just
