After some time living in Colombia, there’s something I keep noticing. It’s not loud or obvious. It’s in the pauses between conversations, the ease of a handshake that lingers a second longer, the casual way a young guy might lean in when talking to someone twice his age.
Younger men here don’t seem to carry the same fear or defensiveness I’ve felt from younger generations elsewhere. There’s a kind of comfort — not always intimacy, not always interest, but definitely less tension — when it comes to age, touch, and even the possibility of something a little deeper.
I’ve been chewing on this for a while, wondering if it’s just in my head or if something real is going on. Here’s what I’ve come to believe.
Age doesn’t automatically disqualify you. In a lot of places — especially back in the U.S. — age has a way of shutting doors. You’re either too old to matter, too irrelevant to desire, or too suspicious to trust. But in Colombia, I’ve noticed that age doesn’t seem to carry that same weight. A younger man might not be thinking about age at all.
If the connection feels real — if there’s a vibe — it’s not uncommon for conversations to happen, friendships to form, and even deeper bonds to emerge. It’s not utopia. It’s just… human. And it feels good to still be seen.
People here are just more physically comfortable. Physical closeness doesn’t raise eyebrows here. Touch is part of how people relate — a hand on the arm, a long hug, a kiss on the cheek. It’s normal. Men do it with men, women with women. It’s not coded the way it often is elsewhere. That kind of casual, affectionate physicality creates space. It lowers walls. It lets relationships unfold naturally without immediately jumping into questions of orientation or intent. For someone like me, who grew up where men were supposed to be hard-edged and guarded, this feels like a different universe — a kinder one.
There’s also the matter of economics. Let’s not ignore the obvious. Colombia is a country with serious economic disparity. And sometimes — not always, but sometimes — younger men are open to relationships that include an element of financial support or lifestyle improvement. This doesn’t mean they’re using anyone, or that these relationships aren’t real. Sometimes it’s about survival. Sometimes it’s about companionship. Sometimes it’s a mix of both. Whatever the case, the arrangement often seems more honest than what passes for romance elsewhere.
Sexuality isn’t as boxed in. Younger Colombians — especially in the cities — are growing up with a different set of rules, or maybe fewer rules altogether. They’re not as hung up on labels. Straight, gay, bi, curious — the lines are blurrier, and that seems to work for them. Some guys are just open. They might be affectionate, flirty even, and still not see themselves as queer. There’s less panic about being mistaken for something you’re not. Less fear of exploration. And for someone my age, that kind of openness can feel like fresh air.
Webcams, curiosity, and the influence of the internet. It would be naı̈ve to ignore the impact that the internet — and especially adult camming platforms like Chaturbate — have had on younger Colombian men’s attitudes toward their bodies, their sexuality, and the kinds of interactions they’re willing to entertain in real life. Camming has become a viable economic option for many young men, especially in lower-income areas.
These platforms blur the lines between performance and exploration. For some, it’s simply work. For others, it has opened doors to curiosity they might not have acted on otherwise. Performing in front of a global audience that includes older gay men has, in some cases, made them less fearful or judgmental about physical interactions off-camera, too. Some remain strictly hetero, no doubt. But a surprising number are open to experimenting, negotiating, and connecting with older gay men in ways that reflect not just economic necessity, but a genuine shift in comfort with fluidity, touch, and presence.
Older men aren’t invisible. One of the harder things about getting older — especially as a gay man — is the slow fade. You start to feel like people stop seeing you. Like you’re no longer part of the conversation, the possibility, the dance. But here? I’ve been surprised. Some young men still look you in the eye. They talk, listen, laugh. They might not always want more — but they also don’t act like you’re radioactive. Being older doesn’t disqualify you from connection here. In fact, sometimes it even opens doors.
Final thoughts. Colombia isn’t perfect, and I’m not trying to romanticize it. But it has offered me something I didn’t expect at this stage in life: a sense of presence. A reminder that connection is still possible — even across age, language, or history. Not every young man is open. Not every interaction is easy. But here, there’s a kind of softness that lives under the surface. And for now, that’s enough to keep me grounded.
A note to readers–giving credit where credit is due:
This is one of two pieces I drafted before leaving the U.S.—though “drafted” might be too generous. The ideas are mine. The prompts were mine. But the words? Mostly the work of Erasmus—my digital collaborator, muse, and co-writer in exile. I asked him to help me make sense of something I’ve been feeling in Colombia, and he did what he does best: listened closely, reflected it back, and tried to channel my voice. Call it a collaboration between man and machine. Or maybe just a strangely comforting kind of ghostwriting. Either way, I stand by it.
