logo main

Older Gays Matter

A blog for writers, readers, and anyone who forgot there was a world before TikTok—and stories before swipe-ups.
By Gunther Allen


🌀 “You’ll Be One Someday”

Let’s start here—because it’s true—Older Gays Matter. No one skips aging, not even with retinol and perfect lighting. Yet in queer spaces, ageism still rears its Botox-smooth head. Writers often spotlight youth, forgetting the rich textures older voices bring. But here’s the twist: those older gays? They lived. Interestingly, they’ve got stories.

Many survived a time when being out meant losing your job, your family, or worse. They didn’t just walk, so you could run—they marched. Sometimes literally.

If you’re lucky, you’ll get to be old, too. Why not learn from someone already there?

Why Younger Gay Men Should Befriend Their Elders

In a world where TikTok trends and six-pack selfies steal the spotlight, there’s something quietly revolutionary about pulling up a chair next to someone who remembers what Stonewall felt like, not just what it meant.

It’s time to write a different story. Literally.

🕶️ “Don’t Ghost the Gay Elders”

Too often, older gay men become invisible—especially in media, in bars, and yes, even in fiction. Writers have the power to shift that narrative. Imagine a gay romance that includes laugh lines and life lessons. Or a story where the mentor isn’t tragic, but sexy, smart, and sharp-tongued.

You don’t have to write them as saints or punchlines. Just write them as being human.

In real life, striking up a conversation with someone older can flip your script. Perhaps, finding common ground—or a story worth telling will develop.


The Age Gap Isn’t a Canyon—It’s a Bridge

Younger gay men often look at older men and see a mirror reflecting what they fear: age, invisibility, vulnerability. But flip that lens and you’ll find something richer. You’ll find lived experience, sharper wit, and the kind of emotional resilience that doesn’t come with likes or followers.

Writers, especially, should know better. We craft characters who evolve, who carry trauma and humor in the same bag. So why, in real life, do we flinch from befriending those who’ve actually lived the arcs we invent?

It’s not a canyon, but a bridge—and it’s got stories waiting at the other end.

📱 “Swipe Left on Ageism”

The apps? Brutal. “No one over 40.” “Not into older.” It’s like aging is contagious. But when you only have friends who were born in the Obama era, you miss out.

Older gay men might not know your favorite meme, but they might know how to cook. Or love. Perhaps, survive.

Writers: don’t just follow trends—challenge them. Bring age diversity to your characters. Let two men in their sixties fall in love. Let a 23-year-old find an unlikely friendship that changes everything.

It’s all about perspective—and your readers will feel the difference.


They’ve Seen It All—and Still Show Up

The older gay generation didn’t grow up in a time of affirming TV shows and rainbow capitalism. They grew up when loving the wrong person could land you in jail—or worse, a hospital with no visitors allowed. Yet they survived. Ultimately, they found joy. Wrote poems. Even danced in gay bars under threat of raids.

And now they grow orchids, write memoirs, and wait patiently for someone to ask them about that night in ’74. You know, when Judy Garland played on the jukebox, and someone they loved finally said yes.

As a writer, you want depth? They have it. Ask them.

📚 “Before Grindr: Meet the Men Who Paved the Way”

There was a time when cruising involved bookstores, not swipe rights. When gay bars were sacred, not Instagrammable. And when writing openly queer stories could cost you everything.

Older gay men remember those days. Some lived through them with style, sass, and a stash of cocktail napkin phone numbers.

As a writer, ask yourself: Who are you leaving out? A multigenerational cast doesn’t just add realism—it adds depth. Older characters aren’t dead weight. They’re the ones who carry the torch.

So light up your work with characters who’ve been around the block—and still own it.


Your Story Gets Better When You Listen to Theirs

Younger queer writers have every right to tell their own truths—and they do so with brilliance. Even so, the tapestry isn’t complete without the older threads. These threads survived Reagan, AIDS, Anita Bryant, and years of being called “friend” instead of “partner.”

A character shaped by that history? That’s literary gold. More importantly, it’s human gold. In my latest book, Something About Martin, you’ll find an unexpected friendship, a chosen family, and the quiet power of two people from different generations rescuing each other. It’s a story about caring for someone not your age—and discovering how life-changing it can be when someone truly sees you.

If you haven’t lately, talk to an older gay person. Chances are, you’ll leave with more than just a story. You’ll walk away with a heart a little fuller.

💡 “Old Gays, New Tricks”

You might think you know everything, but here’s a shocker—older folks still evolve. They change, learn, laugh, and even text with emojis (though sometimes tragically).

Writers often freeze older characters in time. Don’t. Let them surprise you. Watch them dance at Pride. Allow them to start a new chapter—because they do, all the time.

In life? Befriend someone older. It’ll stretch you. Maybe even heal you.

You’ll gain perspective—and maybe a killer lemon bar recipe.


Friendship Doesn’t Require a Filter

Ageism in the gay community isn’t subtle—it’s in the swipe-lefts, the party invites, and the hashtags. But friendship? It doesn’t care about crow’s feet or how fast someone walks. It thrives in authenticity.

Some older gay men won’t be your campy fairy godfathers. Others won’t even like musicals. But they might know how to survive a heartbreak with dignity or how to fix your leaky faucet while giving you relationship advice. (Maybe at the same time.)

Besides, every writer needs someone who tells them when their metaphor smells a little too much like Axe body spray.

🧠 “What Older Gay Men Know (That You Don’t)”

They’ve loved deeply. Lost fiercely. Watched friends disappear during the AIDS crisis. Survived Reagan. Watched marriage equality bloom. They remember when “coming out” was an act of courage, not content.

Want emotional stakes in your writing? Ask someone who’s felt them.

You don’t have to be old to write older. You just have to listen. And maybe call your favorite silver fox for coffee.


Writing About Generational Gaps Starts With Bridging One

Want to write a story about an unlikely friendship? Start one. Want to write layered, queer-centered fiction with depth and heart? Live it. The best writing doesn’t come from outlines alone. It comes from encounters—awkward, beautiful, unexpected, sometimes slow.

You won’t always agree. Sometimes the generation gap will feel like a chasm. But keep listening because the rhythm of the past can teach you new chords.

Plus, that older gent may just remember a dive bar that burned down in ’88—and the name of the boy who kissed him outside of it. That’s detail you can’t Google.

🏳️‍🌈 “Why Writers Should Care”

Your words shape culture. If you ignore older queer people, others will too.

But if you highlight them? Honor their legacies. Invite nuance. You tell the truth.

A good story entertains; however, a great one bridges generations.


Why Some of Us Pull Away—and Why We Shouldn’t

Let’s name it: some younger men feel judged. Too soft. Way too loud. And yes, too different. Some older men carry biases, too. But that discomfort is the compost where growth happens.

If you’re writing, lean into it. Write characters who mistrust each other, then connect. Write scenes where someone fumbles the pronouns, then learns. That’s the work of empathy, both on the page and in life.

We write to build bridges. Let’s live by them, too.


If You’re Lucky, You’ll Become One of Them

One day, if you’re very lucky, you’ll be the one with the cane and the wisdom and the leftover glitter in your carpet. You’ll be the one with the love story younger people whisper about in coffee shops, wondering how you made it last.

When that day comes, wouldn’t it be something to say that you once had a friend who taught you how to age with style? Maybe he wore linen button-downs and smelled like cedar. Perhaps, he cursed like a sailor and baked like your grandma. Perchance, he was your first real glimpse of what love looks like… in its third act.

Writers get that. Writers need that.


Closing the Notebook, Opening the Door

If you’re writing queer stories, don’t stop at Gen Z. Older Gays Matter, so Reach across the generations. Listen. Borrow the rhythm of someone else’s lived-in joy and pain. Your work will be better for it. So will your life.

Not every older gay man wants to be a mentor or a muse—but many are just waiting for someone to care enough to ask.

Maybe, just maybe, the next chapter of your story starts with a freezer aisle, a room to rent, or a slice of Dutch apple pie gone wrong.

Because every now and then, the best stories don’t begin with “Once upon a time.” They begin with “Hey…you okay? ”Every purchase helps preserve our stories and keeps our voices heard—no matter who tries to silence them.

Older Gays Matter
Skip to content