J.L. King - On the Down Low: A Journey Into the Lives of Straight Black Men Who Sleep With Men

Table of Contents

I dedicate this book to all the women whose health has beenjeopardized and emotional state compromised by men livingon the DL, and to all women in general who may use thisbook as a protective guide. I also dedicate this book to menon the DL in hopes that looking in this mirror will be acatalyst to change.

Introduction

The Journey to Self-Acceptance

When I first started on this journey as an official face of Down Low men, I knew that I was entering into something that would change my life forever. At first, I tried to do this work in denial, seeking to expose the behavior without exposing myself. I remember being interviewed by a reporter from USA Today and asking him not to use my last name in the story. I used the name J. Louis because I didnt want my identity known. And more importantly, I still wanted to be on the DL. When I first accepted a speaking engagement in my hometown, I told my client to list me on the program as J. Louis and insisted that everyone call me by that name. I explained to her that I didnt want the word to get out that I was coming forward about my life. I was frightened that someone I knew, or worse yet, a family member, would hear about me if I used my last name. Then Id be busted, all of my secrets would be uncovered, and I wasnt ready for that. I was hiding and had convinced myself that I could get away with it. The need to hide my double lifestyle was so powerful that it overshadowed any common sense I had. As a result, my life was cloaked in lies.

I recall sharing with family and close friends, over Thanksgiving dinner, that I was speaking about HIV prevention in the black community. I kept my description vague. I didnt tell them that I was talking about my life, but talked about how the current trend of the virus was affecting our community. I lied.

After I mentioned that I would be featured in a BET interview, my sister-in-law asked me when the show was going to air. I told her that I didnt think the interview would air at all, explaining that the network had changed their minds. I lied again. I didnt want her or anyone else in my family tuning in to see me talking about my DL lifestyle. The fear of being exposed was more than I could bear.

I mistakenly believed that I could find safety in the lies. I even lied about my sexual orientation to the women who were my sexual partners. Even though I was traveling around the country, educating others on the dangers of DL behavior, I wasnt practicing what I was preaching. Even as the media began touting me as the DL expert, the black man who was telling health officials that they are missing the mark, I was still trying to hold on to my own DL behavior. I felt safe under the blanket of lies. Id been there so long that coming out and standing in truth was something I didnt rush to do. Having grown weary from the secrecy and deceit that defined my existence, I prayed for guidance.

My heart was heavily burdened and I had no one to talk to about what was going on in my mind. Many times I wanted to resign from my role as a public activist and go back to being me. I struggled enormously with the discrepancy between my public and private selves. I still wanted to hide from my past and wash it away as if it had never happened. At times I hated being alone because in those quiet moments I was forced to think about what I was doing and reckon with the contradictions I was living. My head pounded with questions: Why do I have to speak out? What do I have to gain by coming forward? Truth was calling but I wasnt ready to answer.

Still, over time, I eventually came to accept that theres no hiding from yourself. No matter how brilliant the performance put on for others, at the end of the day I still had to face myself.

Many DL men want to stop their duplicitous behavior and seek help, but they dont. They fear the ridicule and isolation commonly hurled their way by those who look upon them through a spirit of condemnation rather than through a spirit of compassion. The negative name calling, the jokes, the isolation, and the guilt are paralyzing. I know whats it like to have nowhere to turn. I didnt go to my pastor because I didnt trust him. When I talked to my fellow DL friends about the tremendous pull inside of me to come and share this message, they sought to discourage me. I felt that no one understood. There was no one to turn to until I met a strong sister whom I instantly connected with, Juliet Dorris-Williams. She offered an understanding ear as I poured out the inner turmoil I was experiencing. She listened without judgment and encouraged me to follow the directive of my heart. She asserted that even though I would be attacked, discredited, and disliked, I should stand in truth anyway for two reasons: Id be helping others, and, in the end, it would make me a better man. I know now that I was led to her to receive that message and become bolstered up with enough courage to face my past, relinquish it, and move forward with my life.

When I reflect on the twenty-five years that I lived on the DL, it doesnt make me happy. I feel ashamed of my behavior and the impact it had on the people in my life. I want to call every woman and every man that I used solely for the fulfillment of my own personal desires and apologize. My mind is heavy with thoughts of the sisters who fell in love with me and gave their all because they believed me when I would look them in the eye and profess my love for them and promise my tomorrows to them. Even though I meant every word I said as I spoke it, I was so confused on the inside that I couldnt live up to being the man they hoped me to be. My heart is heavy with the memory of leaving the arms of these women, happily exhaling, to go and have sex with men. My soul is heavy with remembrances of all of the social gatherings I attended with my girlfriends, acting as a perfect gentleman while secretly trying to hook up with other men at these events. Sometimes the men were their brothers or other family members. Being untrue to myself resulted in my being untrue to everyone else. I hate what I did and the pain my behavior caused for others.

I am a new man. Through the transforming power of Gods love, I am a different person. I realize that I was wrong to try to make choices for the women who were in my life. By denying them the truth, I denied them the respect, honor, and freedom of choice they were rightfully due.

Now that Im living in the resurrection of Gods love I am at peace. I know and accept who I am. I am fully aware that a relationship is a sacred trust that can only be sustained through openness and honesty. I know the importance of being true to myself and honestly representing myself to others. Self-acceptance is necessary before any hope of being accepted by others can be realized. Thats one of the biggest lessons Ive learned on this journey. Now, when I have conversations with friends about the transformation of my life, it feels good. My self-acceptance is clear to all who meet me.

Often Im asked why Im telling my story, what made me come clean? I cant take credit for stepping out on my own. This work was ordained by God. I was seeking guidance and clarity about my lifes purpose, and this work is the answer to my prayers. Growing up, I heard Be careful what you pray for because you just might get it. Now I know its true because thats exactly what happened to me. I wanted to know Gods purpose for my life, and it has been revealed to me. I know that Im on the right path because its been confirmed to me in many ways. From day one, everything and everyone Ive needed to carry this message forth has appeared with no prompting from me except prayer. I had no connections to help me get invited to speak. Nor did I have a public relations professional promoting my message to the media. Seemingly, out of nowhere the speaking engagements and media interviews found their way to me.