Hidden Hypocrisy

I have always been baffled—no, repulsed—by the hypocrisy of men who live double lives. These are men who pray, fast, go to temples, churches, mosques, or synagogues, who post about their faith and devotion—yet behind closed doors, they are deceiving the very people who trust them the most. They are closeted gay men married to women, lying to their spouses, their families, and even to themselves. I see them, and I wonder: how do they sleep at night? How do they stand before their god and pretend to be righteous while actively living a lie?

I know this is how the world works. I know people lie, that deception is everywhere. But that knowledge doesn’t make it any easier to stomach. It disgusts me to see a man post a picture of himself praying, knowing full well that he is cheating on his wife with other men. Or seeing another man cry over his religious faith, when he himself is engaged in an affair while maintaining the outward appearance of a devoted husband and father. Is this what faith is? Is this what religion teaches—to uphold appearances at any cost while destroying lives behind the scenes?

The phenomenon of closeted gay men marrying women isn’t new. Studies across the world show that thousands of gay men, fearing societal rejection, enter into heterosexual marriages. In India, a 2009 study by the Humsafar Trust found that nearly 70% of gay men in Mumbai were married to women by the age of 30. In smaller cities, the number was as high as 82%. A 2018 survey by Planet Romeo revealed that one-third of gay and bisexual men in India were married to women, and 72% had no intention of ever coming out. What about their wives? Only 16% knew about their husbands’ true orientation.

In the United States, a study by the Williams Institute estimated that around 2 million LGBTQ+ people in the country have entered into different-sex marriages, many due to religious or societal pressure. Among them, the vast majority identified as Christian. In Latin America, where Catholicism plays a dominant role, closeted gay men have historically been pressured into marrying women, with little space to live openly.

This is not just a phenomenon limited to conservative religious societies. Even in more liberal Western nations, where acceptance of LGBTQ+ people is significantly higher, many men still feel compelled to marry women due to cultural and familial expectations. Across South Asia, the Middle East, parts of Africa, and highly traditional communities in the West, the story remains the same: men pretending to be straight to meet societal norms, using women as a shield to maintain their façade.

What sickens me most is the blatant religious hypocrisy. These men claim to be devout. They attend church, pray five times a day, fast, go to temples, celebrate religious festivals. They publicly uphold their faith as a symbol of their righteousness. But when it comes to honesty, to the most fundamental principles of integrity, they fail. It’s like they believe that as long as they pray, as long as they follow the outward rituals, everything else is forgiven. But what about the wives they deceive? The families they manipulate?

I see them posting religious messages, celebrating festivals, and talking about morality while lying to their partners. And I want to shake them and ask: do you even believe in the God you claim to serve? Because if they did, surely they would be terrified of the weight of their deceit. Surely they would know that no amount of prayer can erase the damage they cause.

This is not an attack on faith. In fact, I believe true faith should encourage honesty, self-reflection, and compassion. But these men pick and choose which parts of their religion they want to follow. When it comes to cheating, lying, and leading double lives, they conveniently ignore the moral teachings of their own faith. But they’ll be the first to condemn others for so-called “sins” while refusing to acknowledge their own deception.

Living a double life isn’t just morally bankrupt—it’s also mentally exhausting. These men often suffer from severe anxiety, depression, and identity crises. The strain of keeping up a lie for years, sometimes decades, eats away at them. Meanwhile, their wives endure heartbreak, confusion, and a loss of trust when the truth finally emerges.

And then there are the children. How many families have been broken because a man decided to pretend? How many lives are shattered when, after years of deception, the truth comes out? A woman who thought she had a loving husband realizes she was nothing more than a cover story. Children grow up sensing something was always “off” about their father but not understanding why. And the man himself—if he even has a conscience—must live with the guilt of having built his life on lies.

I am not against faith. I am not against religion. But I am against false piety, against men who hide behind religion while doing everything their faith supposedly condemns. I have no patience for cowards who choose deception over truth, who destroy innocent lives just to maintain their fake image.

If you are a closeted man struggling with your sexuality, do not drag another person into your internal battle. Do not marry a woman just to please your family or to appear “normal” in society. And if you are already married and living this lie, then face your truth—for your sake, for your wife’s sake, for your children’s sake.

And if you are one of those men who pretend to be pious while knowing full well what you are doing in secret—then do yourself a favour and stop praying. Because no god worth worshipping would ever reward a liar.

Am I Gay Enough? The Side Debate and the Pressures of Conformity

I’ve been in a loving gay relationship for 25 years. I’ve been attracted to men for as long as I can remember—my first love was Superman when I was five. Yet, here I am, still having to defend my sexuality because I identify as a side. Apparently, for some, that disqualifies me from being “properly” gay. It’s absurd, but it’s also revealing. It shows how much pressure we, as gay men, place on each other to conform—not just to straight norms, but to the rigid sexual roles we’ve constructed within our own community.

Growing up, I knew that straight people expected me to conform to their world. They wanted me to be straight, to marry a woman, to have kids, to blend in. And when that failed, they at least wanted me to be the right kind of gay—either the tragic figure hiding in the closet or the overly sexualised stereotype. But what I didn’t expect was that, even after coming out, I’d have to deal with a different kind of policing—from my own people.

At some point, gay men started mimicking the worst aspects of straight culture, forcing labels on each other: top, bottom, versatile. As if our entire existence boils down to what we do in bed. It’s ironic—our community has fought against being reduced to just sex, yet we’ve turned around and done the same to ourselves. If you don’t fit into these roles, you’re treated as an anomaly, an incomplete gay man. Before I even knew what “side” meant, guys used to tell me I was into “body sex,” and I suppose that’s what they meant—that I preferred intimacy without penetration. But instead of that being just another way to be, it became something that needed justification.

When I first read the Huffington Post article in 2013 about sides, it was a revelation. Until then, I had internalised the idea that maybe I was broken, that I was missing some essential “gay” experience. Because that’s the message that gets drilled into us—not just from straight people but from within the LGBTQ+ community itself. The idea that real sex has to include penetration, that masculinity is tied to what you do in bed, that the spectrum of gay relationships has to mimic the dynamics of straight ones. And if you don’t fit in? You’re sidelined. (Pun fully intended.)

It’s exhausting to navigate a world where both straight and gay people are telling you how to be. Straight society pressures us to assimilate, while gay culture tells us to conform in a different way—be masc, be a top, be a bottom, fit into a category. If you’re anything outside of that, you’re made to feel less valid, less desirable, even less gay. It’s ridiculous. My 25-year relationship with a man, my lifelong attraction to men, my love, my desire—those define my sexuality. Not some arbitrary checklist of sexual acts.

The truth is, being gay isn’t about what you do in bed. It never was. It’s about who you love, who you desire, who you build a life with. And no one—not straight people, not other gay men—gets to tell you that you’re not gay enough.

How Women Can Be Their Own Worst Enemies

We talk so much about men being the problem—and let’s be real, patriarchy is a man-made hellscape—but what we don’t talk about enough is how often women themselves keep this toxic cycle alive. It’s not just men enforcing these outdated, oppressive rules. Sometimes, it’s mothers, aunts, teachers, older sisters—the very women who should be fighting for the next generation but instead become their biggest roadblock. And it’s not always because they’re evil or malicious. A lot of times, it’s because they never had the chance to break free themselves.

When Women Become the Enforcers of Patriarchy

Ever met a woman who’s so bitter about her own lack of choices that she makes damn sure her daughter has just as few? It’s tragic, but it happens all the time. A mother who was forced into an arranged marriage at 18 won’t let her daughter marry for love because she wasn’t allowed to. A woman who had to give up her education to be a housewife makes sure her daughter stays “in her limits” instead of pursuing a career. It’s the whole “If I suffered, so should you” mentality.

Why? Because freedom can feel like an insult to those who never had it. Instead of seeing their daughters break the cycle and being proud, they see it as a slap in the face. A reminder of what they never got. And so, they pull their own daughters back into the same trap, justifying it as “tradition,” “duty,” or “the right way for a woman to be.”

Audre Lorde said it best: “The master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house.” If women keep enforcing the same patriarchal rules that were forced on them, how does anything ever change?

Women Who Defend Their Own Oppression

Then there’s another category: the “pick me” women. The ones who will do anything to be validated by men, even if it means throwing other women under the bus. These are the ones who say, “I’m not like other girls,” who shame feminists, who defend men like Andrew Tate, and who parrot the same misogynistic nonsense they’ve heard from their fathers, brothers, and boyfriends.

This isn’t new. It’s the same reason so many women campaigned against their own right to vote back in the early 20th century. It’s why you’ll find women justifying domestic abuse, policing other women’s clothing, or preaching that a woman’s biggest achievement is “being a good wife and mother”—even when it’s clear they themselves are miserable in those roles.

It’s internalised misogyny at its finest, and it’s exhausting.

Queer Men and the Femme Stigma

As a queer person, I understand this on another level. The world punishes femininity—whether it’s in women or men. One of the reasons so many gay men get bullied isn’t just because they’re gay; it’s because they’re femme. Because in this cis male-dominated world, nothing is seen as more pathetic than a man who acts like a woman. It tells you everything you need to know about how society sees women.

And let’s not forget, a lot of homophobic bullying by boys? It’s done to impress girls. I’ve seen it firsthand—boys making fun of the “gay kid” just to get a few laughs from the girls around them. And some of these girls? They laugh because deep down, they’ve been taught that men being soft, vulnerable, or feminine is disgusting. They’ve learned that from their mothers, who learned it from their mothers, and the cycle goes on.

Let’s break this pattern!

We can’t just say “men need to do better” and leave it at that. Because the reality is, if women are still raising their daughters to be obedient and their sons to be dominant, nothing really changes.

• Teach kids young. This isn’t just about telling girls they can be strong; it’s about telling boys they can be soft. That crying isn’t weak. That being kind isn’t “gay.” That respect isn’t conditional.

• Call out internalised misogyny when you see it. If a woman is tearing another woman down, question it. Ask why. Make her reflect.

• Stop raising women to suffer. If you’re a mother, an aunt, a sister, an older cousin—don’t clip another girl’s wings just because yours were clipped. Let her fly.

At the end of the day, we’re all hurting in one way or another. The least we can do is stop adding to each other’s pain. Instead of telling people to “rise above” their suffering, maybe we should start pulling through it together.