So I grew up with a deeply ingrained, negative view of homeless people. I was taught not to approach them because they were “bad people”—dirty, drug-addicted, unwashed, smelly, and wearing filthy clothes, sometimes even resorting to using bin bags because they had nothing else. I believed they were horrible, like walking death, full of germs, and to be avoided at all costs.
I was also taught not to offer them food, as they supposedly didn’t want it; they just wanted money for drugs. I saw them as beggars, annoying, shouting in the streets, stealing to survive. This perception instilled in me a fear and rejection so deep that I would avoid any interaction with them, worried about what others might think if I engaged.
Now, as an adult, I deeply regret this skewed mindset. I’m sorry to anyone I’ve judged based on these ridiculous stereotypes. This fear I carried made it impossible for me to approach a homeless person without feeling embarrassed, as if I had to speak in whispers, afraid of being seen.
The sad reality is that some of the very behaviors I once associated solely with homelessness are also present in a small minority within the gay community. They may not be homeless, but the parallels are undeniable.
Last Saturday, I found myself in a quiet spot to eat lunch. Across from me sat a man drinking alcohol. My first instinct was to judge him through the lens of those old stereotypes, but he didn’t fit the image I had been taught. Despite my initial fear, I decided to act. I had a spare doughnut and chose to offer it to him. For a moment, fear crept in—what if he rejected it? But I pushed past it, approached him, and handed him the doughnut. He accepted it, thanked me, and ate it.
In that simple act, years of pain and fear were released. I finally confronted and overcame a fear that had haunted me for so long. I experienced a profound sense of gratitude.
But the most heartbreaking part of all this is realizing that the behaviors I once condemned in homeless people—dirty, unwashed, struggling with addiction, lonely, angry, selfish—are also found in the gay community, particularly in those who engage in chemsex. I’ve been there myself: skipping showers, injecting drugs, lying, being consumed by anger, and even risking my health.
Yet, society doesn’t put us in the same “box” as the homeless. We see ourselves as better. But are we really?
