Why Are Gay Men Still Ashamed of Being Bottoms? Let’s Talk About Masculinity

We’ve spent decades fighting for the freedom to love other men. So why do we still treat the man who enjoys being penetrated as somehow less masculine? From dating apps and relationships to gay pornography, it’s time to confront one of queer culture’s most uncomfortable double standards.

Let’s get something straight. Well, as straight as we can manage. Being a bottom doesn’t make you less of a man, yet within parts of the gay community, enjoying the receptive role during sex still carries an astonishing amount of judgement. Some men hesitate to admit their preferences, others feel compelled to describe themselves as versatile, and some associate bottoming with weakness, femininity or a loss of control. These assumptions are so deeply embedded in certain corners of gay culture that we rarely stop to question where they come from or why they continue to influence our relationships.

The contradiction is difficult to ignore. Gay men have spent generations challenging society’s expectations of masculinity, rejecting the idea that loving another man makes someone less worthy of respect. Yet when two men get into bed together, some of us seem determined to recreate the very gender hierarchies we’ve been fighting against. The top is expected to be dominant, assertive and traditionally masculine, while the bottom is frequently associated with submission, vulnerability and femininity. And darling, if we’ve finally escaped the heterosexual rulebook, why are we still following its instructions between the sheets?

Where Does Bottom Shaming Actually Come From?

In gay sexual culture, a top generally refers to someone who prefers the insertive role during anal sex, while a bottom prefers the receptive role. Men who enjoy both may identify as versatile, although these labels can describe preferences, behaviours or identities that change over time. None of them tells us whether someone is masculine, feminine, emotionally strong, confident or capable of taking control of their life. Nevertheless, sexual positions have acquired social meanings that go far beyond what actually happens during intimacy.

Much of this comes from traditional ideas about masculinity, particularly the belief that penetration represents power and being penetrated represents submission. These associations have historically been linked to patriarchal assumptions that treat masculinity as superior to femininity. When those assumptions enter gay relationships, the receptive partner can become associated with the supposedly inferior position, not because of anything intrinsic to the sexual act, but because society has taught us to attach status to who penetrates whom. The irony is that a community which has challenged conventional gender roles can end up reproducing those same hierarchies internally.

A British qualitative study published in The Journal of Sex Research explored how 17 gay men understood the relationship between masculinity and sexual position. The researchers found that ideas about gender and masculine identity could influence how men presented themselves, interpreted sexual roles and negotiated their sexual experiences. Although the sample was small and cannot represent every gay man’s experience, the findings highlighted something significant: sexual preferences are not always expressed in a social vacuum. They can be shaped by what men believe they are expected to be.

What Research Tells Us About Bottom Shaming and Masculinity

The phenomenon has attracted increasing academic attention because it raises questions about how stigma operates within already marginalised communities. In a study published in Gender & Society in 2023, sociologist Terrell J. A. Winder examined how young Black gay men negotiated masculinity, status and sexual roles. His research identified bottom-shaming as a process in which the receptive role could be used to undermine another man’s masculine identity, while distancing oneself from that role could become a way of asserting masculine credibility. Winder also explored how these dynamics intersected with misogyny and racialised expectations, demonstrating that the stigma cannot be separated entirely from wider social inequalities.

The research on bottom-shaming and masculinity is particularly revealing because it challenges the assumption that prejudice within gay communities necessarily disappears once someone has accepted their sexuality. A man may be entirely comfortable being gay while continuing to believe that certain expressions of masculinity are more desirable or respectable than others. In that environment, calling someone a bottom can become an insult rather than a neutral description of sexual preference. The issue is not whether a man enjoys topping or bottoming, but why one role is sometimes treated as conferring greater social value.

These stereotypes also exist beyond gay male communities. A 2018 experimental study involving 243 university students found that participants expressed more disgust towards a fictional gay man described as taking the receptive role than towards one taking the insertive role. While an experiment involving hypothetical characters cannot establish how an entire society behaves, it suggests that negative attitudes towards receptive male sexuality are not confined to gay dating culture. They reflect broader beliefs about gender, sexual behaviour and what men are supposedly allowed to enjoy.

Why Do Some Gay Men Feel Ashamed of Admitting They’re Bottoms?

Shame doesn’t always arrive through direct insults or obvious discrimination. Sometimes it develops gradually, through jokes, dating-app conversations, comments from friends and the constant suggestion that the ideal gay man should be masculine, sexually dominant and physically assertive. A man might genuinely enjoy receptive sex but become uncomfortable admitting it because he fears being perceived as feminine, less desirable or less respected. He may even begin to question whether his preferences are compatible with the masculine identity he has worked hard to establish, particularly if he has already experienced rejection or bullying because of his sexuality.

Researchers Richard Vytniorgu and Jaime Garcia-Iglesias explored these issues in their 2025 paper, Bottom Shaming, Shame Anxiety, and Sexual Wellbeing. Their work examines how anticipated judgement around receptive sexual practices can affect gay men’s experiences of shame, anxiety and sexual wellbeing. Importantly, shame does not necessarily require an actual negative reaction from a partner. The expectation of being judged can itself become powerful enough to influence how someone communicates their desires, approaches intimacy or feels about their own body.

We should also be careful not to assume that every man who avoids discussing his sexual preferences is hiding something. Privacy is a legitimate choice, and nobody owes friends, partners or strangers a detailed account of their sex life. Similarly, identifying as versatile is not automatically an attempt to disguise a preference for bottoming. The problem arises when someone feels unable to express what they genuinely enjoy because they have absorbed the idea that receptive sex makes them less masculine or somehow less valuable. Sexual freedom should include the ability to embrace a preference without being forced to defend what it supposedly says about your identity.

Are Tops Really More Common, More Masculine or More Desirable?

One reason sexual-role stereotypes survive is that gay culture frequently treats top, bottom and versatile as fixed personality categories rather than flexible descriptions of sexual interests. Dating apps can reinforce this tendency by placing sexual position alongside height, body type, age and other personal characteristics, making it appear as though a single label offers a complete picture of someone’s sexual identity. In reality, attraction, behaviour and self-identification do not always align so neatly, and a man’s preferred sexual role cannot reliably be determined from his appearance, mannerisms or perceived masculinity.

A 2025 American study involving 4,802 cisgender sexual-minority men illustrates just how varied these identities can be. Among participants, 15.8% identified as bottoms, 24% as bottom/versatile, 20.3% as versatile, 22.5% as top/versatile and 17.2% as tops. The figures describe the people surveyed, not the entire gay male population, but they demonstrate that sexual-role identities are more diverse than the simple top-versus-bottom divide often presented in popular culture. The researchers also found that characteristics such as physical appearance and attraction were not consistently reliable predictors of the labels participants used.

More recently, an Oxford and Manchester research project published in 2026 analysed 141,156 active dating-app profiles, finding significant variation in how men described their sexual roles across different ages and regions. Most users had not specified a sexual-position label, although the research does not establish whether that reflected privacy, indifference, shame or other reasons. What it reinforces is that sexual identities are influenced by personal and social circumstances, rather than following a universal formula. Perhaps the next time someone insists they can identify a bottom simply by looking at him, we should remind them that sexuality is rather more complicated than a personality quiz.

Gay Porn and the Myth That Bottoms Are Always Submissive

Gay pornography deserves particular attention because it is one of the places where sexual-role stereotypes become highly visible. Mainstream gay adult content frequently portrays the top as muscular, sexually assertive and dominant, while the bottom may be represented as more submissive, expressive or physically vulnerable. These dynamics can be enjoyable fantasies when everyone involved consents, and there is nothing inherently problematic about someone finding dominance or submission sexually exciting. The difficulty begins when those scripted performances are interpreted as evidence of how real men should behave, or when a receptive sexual preference is automatically confused with a submissive personality.

A 2022 study published in Archives of Sexual Behavior examined 220 popular online gay porn videos featuring two male performers. The researchers found that versatile sexual roles were rarely represented, suggesting a preference in the sampled content for clearly defined insertive and receptive roles. Interestingly, performers taking the receptive role were more frequently shown initiating sexual activity, complicating the assumption that bottoms are necessarily passive participants. The study examined a particular selection of videos and cannot describe every form of gay pornography, but it demonstrates why the relationship between sexual position and dominance is far less straightforward than popular stereotypes suggest.

Pornography is entertainment, performance and fantasy, not a documentary account of gay relationships. Actors may adopt particular personas because those roles attract audiences, fit studio expectations or suit the demands of an individual production. What is portrayed on screen does not necessarily reflect an actor’s personal sexual preferences, relationship dynamics or identity outside work. Nevertheless, repeated exposure to narrow sexual scripts can contribute to unrealistic expectations, especially when viewers have limited opportunities to discuss sex and masculinity openly. The answer is not to condemn porn or sexual fantasy, but to recognise the difference between enjoying a particular dynamic and assuming it defines an entire category of men.

Are Bottoms Really Paid Less Than Tops in Gay Porn?

There is also a frequently repeated claim that gay porn actors who bottom are paid less than those who top, supposedly reflecting the industry’s preference for masculine, insertive performers. It is an interesting allegation, particularly because it would suggest that sexual-role hierarchies extend beyond representation and into financial compensation. However, despite the claim circulating in discussions about the adult industry, there is currently insufficient reliable evidence to establish a systematic industry-wide pay gap between top and bottom performers. Without comparable data on performer fees, contracts, experience, popularity and production requirements, presenting such a difference as a proven fact would be misleading.

In 2017, THEGAYUK interviewed gay adult performers about whether tops or bottoms received higher fees. Their accounts were mixed, with some describing no role-based difference and others suggesting that performers occasionally received more for taking the receptive role. Performer Jonny Kingdom, for example, reported sometimes earning a higher fee for bottoming, demonstrating that the relationship between sexual position and compensation is not necessarily what the stereotype suggests. These testimonies are valuable insights into individual experiences, but they are not a representative salary survey and cannot establish a universal pay structure.

That uncertainty shouldn’t prevent us from asking whether the adult industry adequately recognises the demands placed on performers. Receptive anal sex can require significant physical preparation, communication and attention to personal boundaries, just as other sexual performances involve their own physical and professional requirements. Compensation may also depend on reputation, marketability, exclusivity, specific acts and individual negotiations. What matters is that performers have the opportunity to establish clear boundaries, give informed consent and negotiate fair compensation without being devalued because of a sexual role. The absence of evidence for a universal bottom pay penalty does not make the wider questions of stigma, labour practices and professional respect any less important.

When Sexual Roles Become Power Struggles in Gay Relationships

Perhaps the most personal consequences of bottom shaming emerge within romantic relationships, where assumptions about masculinity can influence how partners understand one another. Some couples may unconsciously reproduce a dynamic in which the top is expected to be the more assertive partner, initiate sex, make decisions or occupy a traditionally masculine social role. Meanwhile, the bottom may be expected to appear more submissive, emotionally accommodating or feminine, even when neither partner has consciously agreed to those expectations. Over time, sexual preferences can become confused with a broader hierarchy of power, shaping how partners negotiate intimacy and express their needs.

There is nothing wrong with couples choosing different roles, including traditional or explicitly dominant and submissive dynamics, provided those arrangements are consensual and genuinely satisfying for everyone involved. The difficulty arises when the expectations become restrictive rather than pleasurable. A man who enjoys bottoming may also want to take control, initiate intimacy or occasionally explore the insertive role, while a man who prefers topping may have no interest in acting dominant outside the bedroom. Neither should feel that changing or discussing their preferences threatens their masculinity or their place within the relationship.

A 2019 study involving 169 men in same-sex relationships explored how differences between preferred and actual sexual positions related to relationship and sexual satisfaction. The findings suggested a complex relationship between sexual-role preferences, behaviour and satisfaction, rather than a simple rule that partners must always match perfectly. Compatibility is not necessarily about having identical preferences, but about communicating, negotiating and understanding one another’s desires. For some couples, that means maintaining clearly defined roles; for others, it involves flexibility or finding pleasure in activities that do not require anal penetration at all. There is no single correct formula for gay intimacy, and insisting that every couple must follow one is precisely the kind of thinking queer liberation was supposed to challenge.

Have We Internalised the Prejudice We Once Fought Against?

This may be the most uncomfortable part of the conversation: gay men can reject homophobia while still carrying deeply ingrained beliefs about what makes a man respectable, desirable or sexually valuable. We may celebrate masculine bodies, dominant behaviour and sexual confidence while treating femininity, vulnerability or receptive pleasure as characteristics that diminish someone’s status. These attitudes are not universal, and gay communities contain extraordinary diversity, but they can be particularly damaging when they reproduce the same hierarchies that have historically been used to shame queer people. It is one thing to have a preference for masculine partners; it is another to believe that masculine men are inherently superior.

As The Gayly Mirror recently explored in our article about Troye Sivan, childhood bullying and masculinity, expectations about how boys should behave can shape their confidence and self-image long into adulthood. Coming out does not automatically erase those lessons, particularly when society continues to reward certain performances of masculinity and punish others. For some gay men, being perceived as exclusively a top may offer a sense of protection from stereotypes they have spent years trying to escape. But when that protection depends on treating bottoms as inferior, it comes at somebody else’s expense.

We also need to distinguish sexual preference from prejudice. Nobody should be pressured into bottoming, topping or becoming versatile to prove that they are progressive, sexually liberated or comfortable with their identity. Men who are exclusively tops, exclusively bottoms, versatile or sides are equally entitled to have their boundaries respected. What deserves criticism is the decision to turn those personal preferences into judgements about another person’s masculinity, intelligence, independence or worth. Sexual compatibility is about what people enjoy together, not about establishing a ranking of which men are more deserving of respect.

Being a Bottom Doesn’t Make You Less of a Man. And It Never Did.

The truth is that bottoming is a sexual preference or behaviour, not a personality diagnosis. It tells us nothing definitive about someone’s masculinity, confidence, emotional strength or ability to take control of their life. A man can enjoy receptive sex while being assertive, successful, independent and completely comfortable with his identity. Equally, a top can be sensitive, affectionate, vulnerable or uninterested in traditional expectations of dominance. Neither person becomes more or less masculine because of what they enjoy in bed, and neither should have to perform a particular version of manhood to earn respect.

Perhaps the most radical thing we can do within our own community is stop treating masculinity as something that must be constantly demonstrated, defended or won at somebody else’s expense. Gay liberation was never supposed to replace one rigid set of sexual rules with another, nor should embracing queer identity require rejecting femininity, vulnerability or pleasure. We have challenged society’s assumptions about who men are allowed to love, and we should be equally willing to challenge the assumptions that govern how men are expected to have sex. That doesn’t mean everyone needs to become versatile or abandon their preferences. It simply means recognising that those preferences are not a measure of human value.

Being a bottom doesn’t make anyone less of a man, just as being a top doesn’t make anyone more of one. And darling, if your masculinity depends on judging what another man enjoys in bed, perhaps it’s your understanding of masculinity that needs a little work.