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Finding Gay Sex in Closeted New Mexico

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Creative Commons. Photo by Andrew DesLauriers.

For three more weeks, I’m staying at an artist’s residency in Santa Fe, New Mexico. It’s beautiful country here, roughly 7,000 feet up on a high desert at the tail end of the Rockies. Faceless and not, most men on the apps say I’m here for the best time of the year. The trees are turning red and gold, their canopies heads above their long white necks and the pines that surround them. It is stunning, especially at sunset. In fact, New Mexico may be one of the prettiest closets in the whole United States. 

Santa Fe, Land of the Discreet. 

For the unaware, “discreet” is an umbrella term in queer circles. Its significance neatly overlaps with “DL” but isn’t synonymous. It typically describes someone closeted looking for sex. You can differentiate them by their reasons for being closeted. Maybe they haven’t accepted themselves. Maybe their culture won’t let them. Perhaps they love and have married a woman but desire gay sex. Regardless of why, they remain anonymous because the risks outweigh the pros.

No shortage of queer men here…

New Mexico reassures me that queer people really are everywhere, and they’re not doing great. This isn’t a supply-chain issue. Open Scruff or Grindr in Albuquerque or Santa Fe and you’ll find many active profiles. Half of them however lack pictures or names. Some contain no information at all. If you’re new, expect “Hey” and “What’s up” messages from headless torsos, guys without faces, stats or interests. Feel free to ask what’s up with all the secrecy—they’ll tell you.

This is only marginally more effective than standing outside with your ass out. Faces and explicit names hidden. Screenshot mine.

Here’s an example.

Me: Hey there, everyone has a profile like yours! Maybe I’ve lived in San Francisco too long but why is everyone so discreet here?

Him: It is a very small and horrible city that is why I hate living here because gossip spreads quickly

Me: My God. Not to sound rude, but you gotta move if you can. 

Him: I know. I’m trying

It’s not that they’re shy. Quite the opposite; after a little back-and-forth, they’ll show anything you like. But the surface-level is damn near impenetrable, which, from their point of view, is precisely the point. Here, the safety and privacy of the closet still have value. For every person you see visibly living their gay truth, many more are actively hiding it. I want to make it clear this is not a problem of their making. The reality check is mine to cash. I’m not in San Francisco anymore. Simply put, the closet is still the reality for much of America’s queer population. 

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…but plenty of shame to go around. 

I’ve been having way more sex dreams here than at home. My interpretation is, it’s the result of living gaily mostly in my head. It doesn’t feel safe to live out and proudly here. I worried what my Uber driver, a skinny white guy that “cannot stand working for women” and described certain vehicles as “N***** cars,” would do if he knew he was facilitating a gay hookup. 

What made me aloof to the predominance of the closet in this country is its relative irrelevance back home. That’s not to say homophobia doesn’t exist in the Bay Area. It does, because culture and religion are often stronger than geography. But, gay or straight, the difference in the city versus the American interior is palpable. 

Me: Can I ask why everyone is so discreet here?

Him: Most of the men in Santa Fe within our age group through their 40s/early 50s are all too afraid to be true to themselves bc of the fact that this town has always been centered around Catholicism so I bet all these closeted self-hating men who aren’t accepting themselves are the ones running to this app 😂

Me: Best answer I’ve gotten so far.

A guy I hooked up with this weekend said he was moving to Albuquerque on Monday. “Finally,” he added. The change had been a long time coming. The gay scene, however humble, does exist in New Mexico’s largest, *not capital city (Santa Fe is the capital, thank you Mr. Salopek). He looked around his attractive adobe-style bungalow. “Better than this place.”

Stupidly I said, “But your house is so nice!” 

“I meant Santa Fe,” which I realized a half-second too late. “There’s just nothing for me here. I’m done wasting my time.”

For Gay San Franciscans Visiting New Mexico:

Finding gay sex in New Mexico unwittingly admits you to a school of closeted customs. This is how you talk, how to un-sissy that walk, how to tell interest from ill intent with mere seconds of eye contact. Remember, the Gay Panic Defense was only outlawed here in 2019. Tell someone trustworthy where you’re going. Share addresses and re-establish contact when you get home. 

I’m not saying, “Hello fellow faggot, live in fear!” I do suggest you respect people’s complicated relationship with the closet here. They’re every bit as queer as we are in the Bay, they just can’t express it without risking their reputations, even their lives. Take them and your safety seriously. You’re not in California anymore. 

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Jake Warren

Jake Warren

Gay nonfiction writer and pragmatic editor belonging to the Prairie Band Potawatomi Nation. Service industry veteran, incurable night owl, aspiring professor.