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Coming Out of the Closet in a Speedo
How a simple swimsuit helped me embrace my sexuality
“Well, that’s one way to get a suntan!”
This is what a woman sniggered just after passing me on the hiking trail to Secret Falls in Kauai. I was wearing a bright blue Speedo. No embellishments, no fancy designs, no eggplant emoji plastered over my dick or banana hammock pushing my pecker into the face of unsuspecting children. Just a simple swimsuit designed for the male body. She finished with a scoff, like Miranda Priestly throwing Andy Sachs shade for her “first day at Runway Magazine” look.
“Joke’s on you, ma’am!” I thought to myself. “We’re both covered in mud from this trail, and you’re the one who’s about to ford a chest-deep stream wearing a cotton blend T-shirt and jean shorts. Hope you enjoy air drying that denim!”
Although I didn’t say that out loud, in retrospect I should have. I’d been thrown out of step and my mind began to spin. Was I wearing something inappropriate? No. I had spent my day swimming in jungle-rivers, crawling through mud, and splashing in the wake of waterfalls. A Speedo seemed par for the course. Was my ass hanging out…
