Hi. I am Stephanie. I’m a middle-aged, straight woman, and I’m obsessed with reading gay male romantic fiction. My obsession started in 2022 when I discovered BookTok, a community of mostly millennial women on TikTok who were sharing the books they loved with an emotional vulnerability that has captivated me to this day. The books I have read as a result of their suggestions I would never have discovered on my own, including the brilliant and addictive universe of “MM” Romantic Fiction (BookTok shorthand for 2 males falling in love, as opposed to MF, FF, MFM, etc.) that is predominantly written by women for women.
Looking back through my Kindle reading history and taking an inventory of my bookshelves, I have read over one hundred and fifty MM books over the course of three years, including the global phenomenon, Heated Rivalry, by Rachel Reid. Heated Rivalry isn’t just a book; for many of us, it’s a sacred text, a comfort read, and a standard against which all other romances, including the MF ones, are measured. If you’re interested, the book is better than the TV show, but you must watch the TV show as well; episode 5 is one of the greatest episodes of television I have ever seen.
To understand my obsession with this genre you need to know some facts about me. I’m 53, a card-carrying member of Generation X, and like generations before me, sexual intimacy was not modeled for us. I learned about sex from X-rated magazines, VHS tapes of pornography where women were objects to be used, and the AIDS crisis. Second, I was taught that sex came after love. Third, in my relationships, sex had very little to do with love; it was a blunt instrument for keeping your man committed to you. Straight romantic fiction in my formative years contributed to the dysfunctional narrative because the books fell into one of three categories: “fade to black”, “bodice ripper”, or “power dynamics”. All of this reinforced my belief that sex in real life was not safe, intimate, or romantic.
Given my orientation, you can imagine the shock and awe of a book like Heated Rivalry. The two main characters, Shane and Ilya, begin with an attraction they can’t deny, even though they both desperately want and need to. They’re the 2 best professional hockey players in the league and they supposedly hate each other. They meet the summer before their rookie season and the attraction is immediate. It’s not just physical; it’s a captivation with who the other is. The intimacy between the two builds from their first encounter and the romantic ways in which they, almost against their own will, build a connection. The sexual encounters are where they’re more honest and direct, and where they fall in love.
Both of these characters are capable of getting sex whenever and wherever they desire. Ilya is a bisexual ladies’ man who knows that he’s attracted to men, but being from Russia, it’s not a part of himself he can explore. Shane’s desperate drive to be the perfect hockey player and role model keeps his gay awakening simmering until he meets Ilya. When they finally decide to “hook up” in Shane’s hotel room, it’s a stunning act of bravery given what’s at stake for both of them. Amidst the fear, anxiety, and intense attraction, there is an ongoing conversation about what is physically going to happen. There’s a mutual desire to please the other, and not just themselves. Both characters believe this is just about “getting off,” but their bodies are also communicating, and the actions are so heart-achingly beautiful; the reader knows that this is anything but casual sex.
I’m obsessed with Heated Rivalry and books like it because they explore sexual intimacy in a fantasy universe of beautiful gay men who don’t trigger my trauma response or my immediate disassociation. It’s a safe space where boy meets boy and sexual exploration creates a deeper and more profound connection. If I could be brave enough to respond to someone and openly communicate in real life, could pleasure and intimacy bloom? If I allow for it, can my body communicate on a deeper plane than my mind and voice alone? These works of fiction argue that intimate sexual encounters can be healing, cathartic, and a beautiful expression of deeper emotional connection. Can they be in real life?
Most of the MM fiction I have read is written by women and published before BookTok was a cultural phenomenon. In the last year, more gay male authors have joined the community and are sharing their work. There is no difference in my obsessive reaction, it’s just as compelling and cathartic regardless of the author. T.J. Klune is an example, an author whom I never would have come across otherwise, and I highly recommend his Wolfsong series.
We talk a lot in the MEA community about navigating transitions, but some of the most important transitions happen in the quietest corners of our lives—like the glow of a Kindle at 2:00 AM. MEA hasn’t just been about career or legacy for me; it’s also been about understanding myself and letting go of what no longer serves me. Through the ‘sacred text’ of gay romance novels, I’m finally unlearning the dysfunctional narratives of my youth and discovering that pleasure, intimacy, and emotional safety are not just for fiction.
-Stephanie
Stephanie Blair is a proud and grateful member of the MEA community, alumni of the Navigating Transitions “Nothing Gets Past You Bitches” cohort led by the brilliant Mary Hofstedt, and current student in the inaugural Purpose Fellowship led by our guiding light and Sage, Chip Conley.