(Long post but great recommendations with pics therein.)
First off—happy (almost) Memorial Day weekend. I hope it’s safe, happy, and includes at least one thing off the grill and one questionable life decision. I hope he’s hot and you fuck on the grill.
This upcoming Memorial weekend also marks my fourth year in Palm Springs, which is wild because I still feel like I just finished unpacking emotionally and haven’t even visited the wild side (yet). But it is home now. And honestly, the longer I’m here, the more I fall in love—with the people, the slow-paced vibe, and yes, crazy fun nights (like the Tool Shed for Underwear Night). I even love the heat, just another thing that makes me drippy around here.
Now, let’s address the obvious: I admit I’m a little… different. A bit of a weirdo. I operate on what I like to call my own “extended timeline.” While some people were out there speed-running life, I hit pause on a lot of things—the fun things, the beautiful things, the “normal adult” things.
And no, it wasn’t because I didn’t want them. I’m horny as fuck right now. It’s because my longest relationship has been with chronic pain, a toxic relationship that fucked me up every day for many years. A relationship I didn’t sign up for. A relationship that took too many years to leave.
Chronic pain isn’t just about hurting—it’s about how it bleeds into everything you fuckin do. Your energy, your plans, your mood, your ability to pretend you don’t want to cancel again. It’s like having a full-time job you never applied for, where you don’t get paid and the boss is your back pain and complaining to a nonexistent HR about the abuse is mute.
So yeah… I’m that gay. The one who’s been fighting through it for way too long. I’ve smiled through pain levels that no one should. I’ve powered through days (okay, weeks, months and years) where quitting felt very reasonable, but I didn’t have anything or anyone to fall back on. I think helping people throughout the years has literally saved me right back. And sure, I’ve cried—but mostly off-camera, like a dignified adult. (Fine, there is nothing dignified about me.)
A couple months ago, at the very beginning of a workout (because of course it was), I dropped a 45-pound weight directly on my foot. Broke a toe in multiple places. Like, it really fucking hurt, but it wasn’t anywhere near what I’m used to living with.
Did I cry?
Nope.
Did I loudly curse in front of a couple of hot gym daddies? You bet your hairy ass I did. But—I kept working out. I finished the whole thing. Because here’s the truth: the hardest part for me isn’t the workout (although it is challenging). It’s convincing myself to show up at all, pushing through my almost now non-existent gym anxiety and walking through those doors. Once I’m there? I’m basically stubborn enough to pretend- I think I can…I think I can.
So, if I seem a little behind sometimes, or like I’m doing life in a weird order—just know I’ve been carrying some extra weight (not just the kind I drop on my foot). I’m still here, still showing up to the gym, and still fuckin figuring it out. And honestly, that’s okay. I get to decide my timeline, and you get to decide yours. Maybe one day, we will merge timelines and make each other cum? We will see.
I want to be clear—I’m not exactly fragile when it comes to pain… except when it involves needles and back pain. Needles scare me. 😄 But seriously—if I say something hurts, it hurts. Pain and I go way back. We’re not friends, but we’ve definitely spent too much time together in a toxic relationship. And yeah, sometimes I catch myself feeling a little envious of people who’ve never had to put their lives on pause because of it. If that’s you—honestly, I hope it stays that way. No one deserves that kind of major interruption.
Now, I do cry… just not usually from physical pain. I don’t even think I cried from my back surgery, but from back pain itself, sure I’ve cried. Give me a sad movie? Crying – you got it. Emotional moment? Absolutely. Life hitting too hard? Depends, but I’ve been there too. I’ve had my share of angry tears, exhausted tears, and those quiet, “what the fuck now?” kind of moments.
A lot of that comes from the bigger stuff I’ve carried—years of intense back pain, hard family moments, and that ongoing feeling of somehow drawing the short straw more often than not. Being a brown gay man navigating all of that hasn’t exactly come with a guidebook either. If it did, like “Cruising 541- 101- Rules of Engagement”, I’d buy it. Or, “How to Flirt in a Steam Room”- I’d buy it.
Pain shaped how I see the world, how I protect my peace, and how I search for happiness—even in smallest of ways, in my everyday life. It has also taught me that I can’t trust my own body, so that’s something I’m working on in a big way. I’d love to trust my body.
And yeah… I know I can overshare. It’s kind of my thing. But here’s the good part: those heavy clouds that have been fuckin up my shit for so long… They’re finally starting to move. And I can feel it. I’m getting glimpses of something lighter, something better—the sun is shining, and it’s exciting, literally boner type excitement.
I’m not claiming to have it all figured out (very much the opposite), but I’m figuring it out as I go. And honestly, talking about it—putting it all out there—is part of how I heal. It helps me breathe a little easier. It’s part of my own mental health journey.
So, this is me, right now: evolving, healing, and slowly but surely leveling up and trying to trust my own body. I hope to get to bear/bare more as I keep poppin my Palm Springs cherries all about town.
Poppin Palm Springs. *POP*
I really am evolving and can’t wait to meet the future me.
Let’s talk about something I’ve mentioned before: gym anxiety, because that’s part of my journey and there are some notable people that help ease those fears, that deserve a mention or recommendation.
Yes—I’m a therapist… who has anxiety. Shocking, I know, but therapists are not immune to the world around us(a) and trauma; bitch I twas raised with it. She done been there too long. Add in the occasional panic attack when things get real, and there you have it: your local, slightly unhinged yet happy and loving mental health professional who knows how to help others more than himself.
For most of my gay life, gyms felt like scary enemy territory kinda places. Loud, intimidating, full of scary men who looked like they were born with every muscle enlarged, angry, oozing testosterone out their pores, and knowing how to use every machine or weight; really homophobic places. Meanwhile, I’m over here like… “what does this lever do and will it kill me?” and “That dude looks scary- will he kill me?”
But something shifted recently. It feels different now. And honestly, I credit a lot of that to exposure therapy—just showing up again and again, with the right people around me.
Because let’s be real: I know I’m not the only gay guy who’s ever felt uncomfortable in a gym. So, if that’s you—hi, hoe- I see you. And if that’s not you, let me ask you this: are you kind to the people who clearly are feeling out of place? A smile, a friendly hello, and even a smidge of kindness goes a long way in those moments.
I’ve had a few people meet me right where I was in those uncomfortable moments—not judging, not being mean, just being decent humans. And as I kept going back, more and more people turned out to be… actually really fucking nice! Those small moments and an occasional “hello” from then strangers helped me in a big way. And I think it’d help you too, if you take that leap of faith in this community and a gay gym.
I’m happy to report: most of my gym anxiety is gone. And whatever’s left usually disappears when I walk through the check-in desk entrance. Then any remaining is vanquished after a solid workout.
You know what? I’ve coached my clients over and over again with regards to their anxiety. I know working out increases your dopamine production, which is a natural high. I mean, who doesn’t like to get high on their own supply? This is literally YOUR own supply – it’s what you put into it directly impacts what gets out of you, and that’s anxiety.
Nervous system problems overloading everywhere? Get a trainer.
I’ve spent years telling my clients, “Exercise helps anxiety! It boosts dopamine!” Meanwhile I’m out here like, “Sure, Jan… let me sit with my feelings and these French fries instead.” Mmmmm…. fries.
But it’s true. You really can get high on your own supply—your brain chemicals do their thing, and suddenly you’re like, “Oh… I feel… better! Is this legal? Can I get another hit?”
Sometimes I still get a little anxious sitting in my car before going in. I take a breath, hype myself up, and walk through those doors anyway. And honestly? I know the anxiety usually disappears the second I scan in and step onto the floor, so I hurry.
Now—if you’re struggling like I was—here’s my biggest tip: hire a trainer. Scared to go to the gym on your own? Hire a motha fuckin trainer.
Seriously. It helps regulate that overwhelmed nervous system, gives you direction, and makes the whole experience way less intimidating. It also….helps you do things correctly so you won’t hurt yourself.
I’ve worked with a few amazing and hot trainers since my arrival here. I’ve never been able to afford a trainer before. It’s always been me, meeting all my needs and scraping by, but these days there’s a little bit extra. (But taxes are fkn that up, and if they really suspend $1.3 billion for CA Medicaid, let me just say…I’m not in a hurry to pay the rest of my taxes.)
I digress, we were talking about trainers, we will have time to talk shit about this terrible administration towards the end of the post. Where were we? Hot trainers… yes, hot fucking trainers.
I didn’t realize that a trainer could make me feel so much more comfortable in a space that I feared. It’s worth it for me- here are my recommendations. The order from when I arrived and when they helped me.
- Eddie – Built like he eats half a cow for breakfast, but secretly a giant teddy bear. Super kind, super grounding, and super muscly. Like if I was in a bar fight- I’d want Eddie to have my back. He’s a straight man, but sweet and kind to his clients. Straight people can be kind too and make great trainers. Hire him- here’s his contact – 760-343-6730
- Bruno – A hot Latino, friendly, fun, and keeps things tight. Also, the kind of energy that makes you want to show up. He worked with me in a private gym so if you’re nervous about working out in front of others, maybe he’s the right fit for you. He also works at other gyms and teaches spin class. This bitch aint got no body fat anywhere. *Scratches his face*
Hire him- he’s worth it, here is contact https://www.bamfitwellness.com
- Vinnie – Crazy and fun, humor, and a great workout. Somehow makes you suffer and laugh at the same time, which feels confusing to the senses but highly effective. He’s got a face and tits that make you want to try harder. Pushes me more than I knew I could go or further than I thought I was capable of. He’s also a spin teacher. My legs were sore for days after his class. My baby muscles began to pop because of him and those other trainers primed me for his welcomed pain. Hire him but don’t fuck with my schedule with him, lol, here’s his contact:
And one thing I highly recommend? Don’t overlook women trainers.
One in particular really stood out to me—not just for how knowledgeable she is, but how she shows up for people in visibly tough moments. There was a day I was struggling with extreme back pain, back when I arrived and started my PS fitness journey; and she took time out of her own schedule at the gym to help me—no obligation, she was just acting from kindness. She used to date Eddie, and even though I wasn’t her client she recognized the pain in my face and offered to help. She got on the floor with me, walked me through some stretches to help pause the pain. She made sure I felt okay. And I felt better temporarily, because of her.
And at the end of the day… isn’t that what actually matters? How we treat each other? How we show up for each other? How we stand up for one another?
Viktoria – Great ass and she’s someone who brings good energy, knows what she’s doing, and creates a space where you feel supported—which is everything when you’re just trying to get through a workout without running out of the building screaming. Sometimes, even gay men have an eversion to hyper masculine male energy – even if we crave it with our loins. (Trauma.) If this is you and you want a safe person and strong female energy- pick her.
She’s a single momma of 4, 1 girl and 3 boys. Her daughter recently made her a hot grandma. Leaving her with all boys in the home, ewe, I can’t imagine the crusty socks. Here’s her info if you’d like some strong feminine energy to help guide you to be the best version of yourself. She’s worth it.
And honestly, there are so many great trainers out here in the desert. There’s a whole board of them with pics at the gym I go to. Just because I haven’t worked with someone doesn’t mean they’re not amazing. There’s room for all of them. I like to jump around a bit, so maybe they are in my future?
The bigger point is this: I used to be genuinely scared to go to the gym. I didn’t think I’d fit in. I didn’t think I’d belong. I didn’t think I could do any of it. But here’s the secret—you don’t actually have to “fit in.” I’m not sure I do, but that’s okay.
You can just show up. Be yourself. Do your thaaaang. And more often than not, the people around you are just there trying to do the same. And now? I see familiar faces, and it’s weirdly comforting. Even one of the front desk people (Steven), come to find out, this bitch has his fingers in everything around town and is an amazing performer and entertainer. He’s actually a really nice person too. He even works and promotes those pool parties for the new Eagle at the Sonoran. (Might go for their Memorial Weekend Party or pay taxes- not sure which one yet.) It’s crazy how small and big this this town is at the same time. And not to mention how much talent there is er’where. Even the front desk at your local gay gym has secret talents for those of us(a) not in the know or newer to town. You never know who people are… so I just imagine being nice to all of them.
I literally look around and feel a sense of relief nowadays, I don’t even need to know the names of other gym goers to feel like… yeah, these are my people. People just trying to live, take care of themselves, and exist a little more freely and healthier. And honestly? That’s the kind of energy I want to be around.
Here’s the thing I’ve landed on lately: Whether the people at the gym like me, don’t like me, or don’t even know I exist—I still believe they deserve the right to live freely. To love who they want, marry—or not marry—be exactly who they are, and chase their version of life, liberty and their pursuit of homo happiness. Just like we all do.
Those are our people. And so are you. (Unless, you’re somehow hate-reading this… I just say, whew, that’s a lot of commitment. Maybe hydrate, go fuck yourself, and take a walk and listen to that Taylor Swift song, “Actually Romantic”.)
But I’m not going to pretend everything feels easy right now. There are things happening in the world that genuinely make me anxious. Not gym anxiety. Not “should I go today?” anxiety. I mean the heavier kind—the kind that sits in your chest when you start thinking about the future of our rights, if we will actually live in a free society, and about our planet.
Where the fuck are we headed? Nazi Germany is not where I want to be.
Anxiety comes from this crazy ass dementia ridden president, his traitorous administration, and all the white supremacists’ judges revealing themselves as they strip the rights of black and brown people (and women) away with every decision they make. Someone should be making a list about all these fuckers so that they can get voted out of office or judgeship.
Don’t act like you don’t see him and his uber rich buddies flying around asking people to join their war against Iran, a war that he started out of greed. It had nothing to do with nukes or our country. Unless they are playing long game. Long game, meaning a reason to fuck with our elections.
Are they making deals with countries that hate the USA? Cause they seem to be stretching out our military, weakening soldiers, creating opportunities for them to get sick by not requiring vaccinations, and letting them wipe our bases (around those areas) off the map. (With no consequences, they act and kill with immunity.) They are not just destroying our civil rights, but our country, everyone’s freedoms, and our planet. When do WE do something? Viva la Revolution!
And why shouldn’t there be consequences? Because this is a fake war that is going to be used to stop you from voting and it is bankrupting the USA. Prices for everything will keep going up and can you believe he actually said a partial truth? “I don’t think about Americans’ financial situation. I don’t think about anybody. I think about one thing. We cannot let Iran have a nuclear weapon. That’s all,” the shitty diaper wearing president said. (But I think the one thing he thinks about most is how to enrich himself and destroy our country.)
They are going to ruin our ability to pay our mortgages, to feed our families, and afford our electric bills. And then when he breaks us(a), because he’s breaking us(a), all those people who he’s been playing insider trading with in the stock market- will be able to come buy us(a) out of our homes and homelands- each state at a time. They’ve done this before. They’ve stolen land before. Why do they keep trying to do this?
Why do they keep trying to make all of our lives worse? Don’t they have everything already? Can you see it? They are planning on taking and destroying everything. This is disgusting. They are disgusting. Barf.
Wouldn’t it be something if YOU, THEY and THEM are the future American heroes celebrated 100 years from now? “The homos and queers that saved America.” That sounds beautiful to me.
It makes you think:
What would I do if things really got hard?
What would any of us(a) do?
The idea that the people who were underestimated, overlooked, or counted out are the ones who keep showing up. Keep pushing forward and keep voting. Keep creating community, keep loving, even in uncomfortable spaces—like a gym, like a city, like a world that doesn’t always feel designed for us(a). And who knows? Maybe those are the stories that matter most in the long run. The ones about people who didn’t feel ready, didn’t feel perfect, didn’t feel “strong enough”… but showed up anyway to fight for what was right. Maybe you are the champions of the future American Story.
In one of my favorite JLo movies, “A Kiss of the Spider Woman”, Molina says, “When it comes to the violent overthrow of the junta, I don’t think they expect to see a bunch of sissies leading the march.” They may not be expecting it today, but I think a bunch of sissies can do anything we put our mind to when we act together as one. In fact, our cock suckin lives depend on it. What would you want written about you in future American History books? (When we actually make books and truth cool again.)
Recently I watched Trevor Noah’s new comedy special on Netflix (you should watch). He said something like, “If there are aliens out there, we could use your help right now.” WE wouldn’t be mad if that plane disappeared with all those greedy crime child fucking rapists and CEOS (I’m not sure if it applies to all of them but it is a good guess), the ones that went to China the other day, and if it just disappeared. VANISHED, WE THE PEOPLE, wouldn’t be sad about it. And how could WE, they are destroying everything we love.
Also, if there are aliens… please help us(a) establish a more loving, free, and equal world that protects and respect each other, wildlife, the planet, and the universe. And Jesus if You are listening too, please hurry back. These evil white supremacists and billionaires are destroying everything good.
Getting Stronger and Better,
The Happy Homo
PS Today my doctor told me to go fuck myself. Okay, not in those words exactly but it’s funnier the way I say it. Story to come, it’s a post hemorrhoid surgery story. I know gross, but it’s part of being a human being. We are gross sometimes, but republicans are even grosser and more painful than hemorrhoids.
PSS I know, I know…I say it a bunch, but maybe you should think about getting that gun and learning how to use it. Wouldn’t it be tits if it were the homos who helped save America in this moment of history? I think you can.
PSSS Today I found that wall, the one you hit when you push your body too much and it finally says, “Have some candy, a burrito, then take several seats and don’t get up.” I ran out of candy. I’ve only got 3 frozen burritos left. Ewe, my body hurts but in a better way than before. Frozen burritos, yup I’m a gross guy.
