It's Time to Stop Pigeonholing Gay Men as Tops and Bottoms

"Is there no rule book for relationships that hasn’t been written by straight people?"

When I interviewed Years & Years frontman Olly Alexander last year for NME, we bonded over bottoming jokes—specifically, how tedious they’ve become. "It’s an obsession with a sexual dynamic that feels pointless,” the singer told me. "Just get over it, get past it. Our notion of who’s a bottom and who’s a top is rooted in notions of gender and masculinity and femininity that are really outdated as fuck. Say what you want among friends, but I’m a bit bored of the online discourse being, like, ‘bottom energy!’ or ‘top me daddy!’ or ‘that’s not gonna work—two bottoms don’t make a top.’ It’s super-reductive."

Some fans are so keen to pigeonhole male idols as tops and bottoms that even cishet celebrities, such as Shawn Mendes, Timothée Chalamet, and the members of One Direction, have these sexual roles (which are most readily associated with gay men) applied to them. But the desire to categorize guys based on what they might do in bed isn’t just part of stan culture; it’s a reductive part of gay culture—especially on dating apps. "On Grindr, I find it exhausting that ‘top or bottom?’ is the first question you're asked if you haven't specified a role on your profile," 31-year-old London resident Jon says. "I find explaining that I'm not really one or the other, or strictly vers [versatile] either, a lot of effort to make straight away. After all, this is someone I may not even want to chat to beyond that initial small talk, let alone sleep with."

Jon also says that being asked “top or bottom?” as a conversation starter can feel exclusionary. “It describes acts more than people, and it doesn't leave a lot of space for gay guys who are vers, or gay guys like me who don't really ever have anal sex. And what about MSM [men seeking men] on dating apps who don't identify as gay or bi? You know, I think it would be super-useful to educate people about the side identity, and the fact that many gay guys do not often, or indeed ever, have anal sex.”

David, a 35-year-old gay man from London who doesn’t identify as top or bottom, says he worries that “some guys can start to define their lives” by their sexual role. “I fully understand the need to give yourself an identity, and when the only thing we all have in common [as gay men] is sex, it’s the easiest one to lean on,” he says. “But I also think it leans too heavily into heteronormativity, because I think it can be seen in terms of the bottom being ‘the woman’ and the top being ‘the man.’ Is there no rule book for relationships that hasn’t been written by straight people?"

In recent years, in some gay circles, “bottom” has become a sneering synonym for “camp” or “femme-presenting.” Court, a 37-year-old gay guy from Denver, tells me that “bottom-shaming is definitely a thing. People feel like bottoming makes you the submissive or 'the woman,' which is ridiculous,” he says. “But some gay guys out there feel so threatened in their masculinity that they don’t want anyone to perceive them as even being capable of ‘taking it.’”

Court playfully defines himself as an “equal opportunity fuck,” but adds that “in a nutshell, vers would be an accurate description” for his bedroom preferences. “Personally, I think that anyone who’s going to top needs to learn to bottom, because until he’s been on the bottom, a top has no idea what he’s doing,” he argues. “And you know, I think some gay guys out there maybe had one really bad experience bottoming and never allowed themselves to try again because they were afraid it would be bad again.”

Everyone I speak to has reservations about the tops and bottoms as labels, but there’s also a broad consensus that they’re here to stay—at least for the time being. "I think those binary identities, with vers, vers bottom, and vers top as qualifiers too, are really helpful for many guys out there, so there’s no need to reject them entirely,” says Jon.

Ric (not his real name), a 31-year-old gay man living in Dubai*, says his personal relationship history means he’s never really faced the question “top or bottom?” "I’m still with my first-ever boyfriend, and we explored our sexuality together, or sometimes with another guy. And that involved all aspects of gay sex, top and bottom,” he explains. “Being in a committed relationship maybe also meant that we were less affected by gay stereotypes because we evolved sexually in the security of our relationship. It’s important for us to pleasure the other as much as ourselves, and for us that means taking on both roles.”

Ric also suggests we’re seeing a slight shift in the way bottoming is perceived by the gay male community. "I've seen guys wearing baseball-themed Halloween costumes with the titles ‘pitcher’ and ‘catcher’ on the backs, which seems to be a sign of guys who bottom becoming more confident and proud of that role," he says. "But I still totally believe that the 'top or bottom?’ thing has been carried forward from the gay dark ages. I have friends who identified as top for years, but were finally persuaded to bottom by a partner, and found they were really into it. I think as guys realize that being ‘vers’ means they could potentially have more sex, they’ll be more inclined to drop the hard labels.”

So, perhaps the takeaway here is that it doesn’t hurt to be a little more open-minded about what we think we’re “into.” I once had a terrible sexual experience with a self-styled ‘dom top’ who spent more time admiring himself in the mirror than getting me off, but that one-off flop doesn’t mean I should rule out other doms entirely. Ultimately, it’s the person—not their sexual role—that you’re going to connect with. And sometimes, there’s nothing quite like a Sunday morning flip-flop.

Originally Appeared on GQ