Navigating LGBTQ+ Healthcare as a Gay Man: Specialized Care for Our Community

Navigating LGBTQ+ Healthcare as a Gay Man: Why Specialized Services Matter

I still remember the first time I had to fight for my health. I was in my twenties, in college, still figuring out what it meant to be gay—and what it meant to stay healthy in a world that wasn’t built for guys like me.

After a broken condom and a long night in the ER, I found myself sitting in front of a trauma physician who barely made eye contact. His tone was cold, and his advice was dismissive:

“Come back in two months for an HIV test.”

But I knew that wasn’t enough. I knew I needed more. So, I pushed. I demanded that he call an infectious disease fellow to come down. It was the only way I was able to get PEP (post-exposure prophylaxis)—a medication that can prevent HIV infection if started within 72 hours. Back then, it wasn’t something they offered unless you asked for it, and even then, you had to fight for it.

That was almost twenty years ago. Unfortunately, experiences like that are still happening today. And it’s why specialized LGBTQ+ health care is so important.

Find yourself a gay doc stat!

Specialized LGBTQ+ Healthcare

Today, I go to a specialized LGBTQ+ health center at the Cleveland Clinic. It’s a completely different experience. There’s no judgment, no hesitation—just affirming, knowledgeable care. They focus specifically on gay men’s health, and they understand our unique needs.

Services like PrEP (pre-exposure prophylaxis), regular STI screenings, and mental health care are integrated into their system. There’s no need to explain yourself or advocate for care you should already be receiving. It’s how health care should be.

I’ve also seen how DoxyPrEP (doxycycline as post-exposure prophylaxis for other STIs) is becoming part of that care strategy. We are no longer just reacting—we’re preventing. This is progress. And it’s long overdue.

My Personal Role in PrEP’s Evolution

Long before PrEP was mainstream, I was reading the original clinical trial data on Truvada. I understood how big it could be. So I signed up for the clinical trial and became one of the first people in the U.S. to take PrEP.

Every day, I took my pill from a GPS-enabled container that sent a radio signal back to the research center to confirm I’d taken my dose. We didn’t know for sure back then if it would work. But I believed it could save lives.

Now we know it does. PrEP reduces the risk of contracting HIV by up to 99% when taken consistently. And yet, too many people still don’t know it’s available—or feel safe enough to ask their doctors about it.

For Those New to LGBTQ+ Healthcare: What You Need to Know

If you’re new to this community, or just starting to think about your health in this way, here’s what I wish someone had told me earlier:

• You have options. You don’t need to settle for a doctor who doesn’t listen or understand.

• PrEP works, and it’s more accessible than ever. It’s a powerful tool for preventing HIV.

• PEP is an emergency option, but it’s time-sensitive. If you think you’ve been exposed to HIV, you have up to 72 hours to start it.

• Regular STI testing is normal and responsible. There’s no shame in taking care of yourself.

• Mental health is health. If you’re struggling, there are LGBTQ+-affirming therapists out there who understand what you’re dealing with.

You deserve a provider who respects you and knows how to care for you. If your current doctor doesn’t, find one who does.

For Health Care Providers: Do Better

If you’re a doctor or a health care professional reading this, know this: you have the power to make a huge difference in the lives of your LGBTQ+ patients.

• Respect matters. Treat us as individuals, not assumptions.

• Make routine STI screenings a standard part of care for gay men—without us having to ask.

• Know about PrEP and PEP. If you aren’t informed, educate yourself. Your patients shouldn’t have to teach you about their health.

• Understand that mental health and sexual health are connected.

• And if you don’t have answers? Refer us to someone who does. We’ll respect you for it.

Supporting the Community: Giving Back and Moving Forward With LGBTQ+ healthcare

HIV prevention and treatment have always been part of my story—and part of this blog’s mission. That’s why we support organizations like the Cleveland AIDS Taskforce. They provide education, resources, and direct services to people living with and impacted by HIV.

While I’m HIV-negative, I believe deeply in standing with those living with HIV, and ensuring dignity and respect are always part of the conversation. Especially when it comes to our youth, who deserve better access to prevention, education, and care.

The Bottom Line: You Are Not Alone

Navigating health as a gay man can be overwhelming—but you don’t have to do it alone. There are doctors, clinics, and organizations that are here for you. Specialized LGBTQ+ health care isn’t a luxury—it’s a necessity.

Take control of your health. Find a provider who understands you. Ask about PrEP. Get tested regularly. And if you need support, reach out.

Your health matters. You matter.

Gay Men’s Rites of Passage: Finding Community, Brotherhood, and Belonging

By Upton Rand

That First Drive (AKA Why I’m Still Shocked I’m Alive)

I was sixteen when I took my first solo road trip into Boys Town. I’d just gotten my driver’s license and thought I was hot sh*t, like every other teenage boy with a set of keys and no sense of mortality.

I picked my brother up from O’Hare that afternoon—not because he was dying to tag along on my coming-of-age adventure, but because I was the one driving. He didn’t have much of a choice. Shotgun was the price of admission.

What I should have done was rethink my route, because learning to drive on the Loop in Chicago, during rush hour? I’ve been there. I did that. And if you’re even thinking about trying it? I encourage you to think again.

But I made it. Somehow.

And when I finally stepped out of the car and onto those streets, everything changed.

Pride flags in the windows. Couples holding hands in broad daylight like they weren’t afraid of anything. A whole neighborhood that felt like it belonged to us.

It blew my mind.

It was the first time I realized that we weren’t just out here surviving—we were thriving. And if there was a Boys Town here, there were more out there.

We All Have Our Firsts (And Not Just That First Time…)

That trip? That was my rite of passage. And whether you realize it or not, I bet you’ve had yours too. Or you’re about to.

We all go through it.

The moments that crack us open, scare the hell out of us, and put us back together as something more ourselves than we were before.

1. Your first gay bar.

Gay Bars are a serious right of passage for those who enjoy a beer.

You’re sweating through your shirt, pretending you know how to order a drink, hoping nobody sees your hands shaking—and then some guy smiles at you like you belong there. Because you do.

2. Watching Mean Girls (or Queer as Folk, or Drag Race) and realizing you finally get the jokes.

Suddenly, you’re part of a conversation that’s been happening forever. And you’re fluent.

3. Your first Pride.

This could be home

You feel it in your chest: “I’m here. I’m part of this.” And then you realize you forgot sunscreen and now you’re part of this sunburn, too.

4. Dating apps.

The swipes, the matches, the ghosting, the awkward small talk that leads to something, or nothing, or maybe even something you didn’t know you needed.

5. Finding your chosen family.

The ones who show up when it matters. The ones who call you out when you’re being dumb. The ones who stay.

Boys Town Was My First Gay Home. Yours Could Be Anywhere.

For me, it was Boys Town. For someone else, it’s Christopher Street, Wilton Manors, or a sweaty dive bar off the highway where nobody judges your karaoke.

It doesn’t have to be big.

It just has to be yours.

And in case no one’s told you—if you don’t have a space like that yet, you can make one.

Why It Matters Now (More Than Ever)

I’ll be honest with you.

I turned on the news for the first time in months the other day. And it bummed me out. Big time.

It’s scary out there. The kind of scary that makes you want to curl up, shut it all out, and hope it blows over.

I get where the fear comes from. I see it. I feel it too.

But it’s times like these that remind me why we built these communities in the first place.

We didn’t come together because it was easy.

We came together because we had to.

Because standing alone was never going to be enough.

And if you’re reading this, you need to hear this:

We have strength in numbers.

We always have.

And right now, it’s time to remember it.

The New Brotherhood Is Already Happening

Some of us still hit the clubs. Some of us are hiking in the woods or sitting in circles breathing deeply with our eyes closed (sometimes naked).

It’s all valid.

The point is, we’re finding new ways to show up for each other.

Ways that are about connection over competition. Community over coolness.

Brotherhood that isn’t about being the hottest guy in the room (though, hey—good for you if you are).

Build It. Start It. Be the One.

You don’t have to wait for an invitation.

You don’t have to wait until you’re “ready.”

If there’s no community where you are, create one.

Post in a forum. Start a book club. Host a movie night. Plan a camping trip.

Put the call out—and I promise you, someone will answer.

Because someone out there is waiting for you to be the one who makes the first move.

This Is the Rite of Passage Now

It’s not just about your first Pride parade or your first dance floor kiss.

It’s about showing up.

For yourself.

For your people.

For the ones who don’t even know they need you yet.

And when you do, you’ll realize:

You’re not alone.

You’ve never been alone.

You’re part of something bigger.

You’re part of us.

Final Thought

I still think about that sixteen-year-old kid white-knuckling it through Chicago traffic, desperate to find his place.

He found it.

And so will you.

If you’ve got a story about your first time finding your community, I want to hear it. Drop it in the comments or shoot me a message.

This brotherhood? It’s only going to get stronger.

And it starts with us.🔥