“Side” Is a Valid Sexual Identity: Rethinking Sex, Pleasure & Shame
TL;DR
Not everyone is into penetrative sex—and that doesn’t make them less queer, less manly, or less desirable. In this article, we explore the identity of being a “side,” a growing term in LGBTQ+ sexual culture describing people who prefer intimacy and pleasure without anal sex. We debunk myths, address stigma, and offer affirming advice for dating, hooking up, and owning your boundaries—especially for bi+ Black men navigating masculinity, shame, and desire.
The Problem: When Sex Gets Boxed In
In much of queer culture—especially among men who have sex with men—sex is often reduced to a single act: penetration. Whether you’re labeled a top, bottom, or vers, your identity is socially tethered to whether you penetrate or are penetrated. Apps like Grindr and Jack’d even build these roles into their filters, signaling that this binary is more than just preference—it’s become a gatekeeper of desirability.
But this sexual economy ignores one important reality: not all men enjoy, want, or can engage in anal sex.
Many men—bi, pan, queer, or questioning—are left feeling inadequate, ashamed, or invisible because their desires don’t fit the dominant narrative. For bi+ Black men, the stakes are even higher. We already exist at a crossroads of erasure and hypervisibility: fetishized as hypersexual, expected to dominate, and often silenced in our emotional or nuanced expressions of masculinity. To not want anal sex as a Black man can be seen as a weakness, a contradiction, or even an invalidation of queerness altogether.
The absence of representation for sides contributes to shame and mental health struggles, especially for men trying to reconcile masculinity, identity, and pleasure in ways that aren’t always visible or celebrated. Internalized homophobia, trauma, and past negative sexual experiences can all influence our preferences—and yet we’re rarely given the language to name or normalize that. The result is a culture that can make you feel like you’re “not queer enough” if you say no to anal, or “not a real man” if you’re not dominating in bed.
Bi+ Black men deserve better than that binary.
The Psychology: What It Means to Be a Side
The term “side” was popularized by sex therapist Joe Kort in 2014 to describe men who have sex with men but prefer forms of intimacy and pleasure outside anal sex (Kort, 2014). This includes oral sex, rimming, frottage (body-to-body rubbing), kissing, mutual masturbation, and non-genital touch. These are not “less than” acts—they are fully valid forms of connection, intimacy, and pleasure.
From a psychological standpoint, being a side can often reflect deeper boundaries, trauma healing, body preferences, or simply erotic orientation. Studies show that up to one-third of MSM (men who have sex with men) avoid anal sex due to discomfort, fear of pain, lack of pleasure, or personal preference (McKechnie et al., 2020). Many feel shame about it—especially when they don’t have the vocabulary to explain why.
When our sexuality is reduced to what we do with our genitals, we miss the truth: sex is about connection, not conformity.
The Facts: What Being a Side Is—And Isn’t
Being a side is not a phase.
It’s a valid sexual identity and preference. For some people, being a side is their default and ongoing sexual orientation—no less stable than someone identifying as top or bottom. It’s not a result of fear, trauma, or avoidance (though those can inform boundaries); it’s a legitimate preference grounded in joy, comfort, and agency.
Being a side doesn’t mean you’re sexually inexperienced.
There’s a myth that avoiding anal sex means you haven’t “graduated” into real queer sex. That’s false and harmful. Sides can and do have robust sex lives, with deep intimacy, intense orgasms, emotional connection, kink play, and sensual touch. In fact, many report greater satisfaction because they focus on what feels good, not what’s expected (Grov et al., 2021).
Being a side doesn’t make you “less queer” or “less manly.”
Queerness is not about mimicry of straight roles (penetrator vs. receiver). Being queer means you define your own rules for love, sex, and gender. Sides disrupt the colonial, patriarchal assumption that sex = penetration = power. That’s powerful in itself (Ferguson, 2004). It reclaims pleasure as liberation.
Being a side doesn’t mean you’re closeted.
While some closeted men may avoid anal sex out of fear, that’s not the same as being a side. Sides may be fully out, affirming, and confident in their identities. The key difference is intention: sides aren’t avoiding something—they’re choosing what they enjoy most.
Being a side is part of sexual fluidity.
Some sides are exclusive (always avoiding anal). Others are situational (it depends on the partner or mood). Still others move between side and other roles over time. That’s normal. Fluidity is common in sexual identity—especially for bi+ people—and deserves respect.
The Advice: How to Navigate Being a Side in Hookups and Dating
For Dating:
Be confident in your boundaries. Saying “I’m a side” isn’t apologizing—it’s self-awareness. Lead with that confidence.
Don’t internalize rejection. Some people will not be compatible with you—and that’s okay. The right person will appreciate your clarity.
Center shared pleasure. Talk openly about what excites you—oral, touch, kissing, etc. Pleasure isn’t missing; it’s redirected.
Be aware of your emotional needs. Some partners may try to convince you to “try anal” or view you as a “project.” That’s not affirming. Find people who affirm you as you are, not who they want you to be.
For Hookups:
Use respectful language in profiles. Try: “side—oral & sensual play focused,” or “not into anal, but love XYZ.” Be clear and inviting.
Reframe the energy. If a partner sees non-anal sex as “boring,” they may be lacking creativity—not you.
Practice safer sex. While anal has higher HIV risk, oral sex and genital contact still carry risk for herpes, gonorrhea, and HPV. Use barriers, get tested, and know your options (CDC, 2021).
Join the Conversation
At Bi+ Black Men, we affirm the full spectrum of masculine expression and sexual pleasure. Whether you’re a side, a top, a soft dom, or figuring it out, you are valid. Being bi+ doesn’t mean you have to follow rigid roles—it means you get to explore your truth.
Want to connect with others who are rethinking sex, masculinity, and healing? Tune into the Bi+ Black Men Podcast on Spotify, Apple, or anywhere you listen to podcasts. Then join our private online space at bisexualblackmen.com/join, where you can meet people who get it—without judgment or pressure.
References
Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC). (2021). Sexually transmitted diseases: STDs and oral sex. https://www.cdc.gov/std/healthcomm/stdfact-stdriskandoralsex.htm
Ferguson, R. A. (2004). Aberrations in Black: Toward a Queer of Color Critique. University of Minnesota Press.
Grov, C., Rendina, H. J., Ventuneac, A., & Parsons, J. T. (2021). Non-penetrative sexual behaviors among gay and bisexual men. Journal of Sex Research, 58(4), 439–450. https://doi.org/10.1080/00224499.2020.1763910
Kort, J. (2014). “The Top/Bottom/Vers Binary Leaves a Lot of Gay Men Out.” Huffington Post. https://www.huffpost.com/entry/gay-men-top-bottom-vers_b_4417614
McKechnie, M. L., Bavinton, B. R., & Zablotska, I. B. (2020). Condom use and non-penetrative sex practices among gay and bisexual men. Archives of Sexual Behavior, 49(4), 1077–1089. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10508-019-01568-z
