Bad Bunny on Sunday shared the stage with Ricky Martin and Lady Gaga at the Super Bowl halftime show in Santa Clara, Calif.

Martin came out as gay in 2010. Gaga, who headlined the 2017 Super Bowl halftime show, is bisexual. Bad Bunny has championed LGBTQ rights in his native Puerto Rico and elsewhere.

“Not only was a sophisticated political statement, but it was a celebration of who we are as Puerto Ricans,” Pedro Julio Serrano, president of the LGBTQ+ Federation of Puerto Rico, told the Washington Blade on Monday. “That includes us as LGBTQ+ people by including a ground-breaking superstar and legend, Ricky Martin singing an anti-colonial anthem and showcasing Young Miko, an up-and-coming star at La Casita. And, of course, having queer icon Lady Gaga sing salsa was the cherry on the top.”

La Casita is a house that Bad Bunny included in his residency in San Juan, the Puerto Rican capital, last year. He recreated it during the halftime show.

“His performance brought us together as Puerto Ricans, as Latin Americans, as Americans (from the Americas) and as human beings,” said Serrano. “He embraced his own words by showcasing, through his performance, that the ‘only thing more powerful than hate is love.’”

I was a “chubby” kid. A “husky” kid. Horrible terms that still make me cringe. Food issues stem through the family tree. I remember hearing a family member vomit when I was in elementary school; the residual scraps left floating in the toilet. I tried sticking my finger down my throat as a teen — an easy purge after a buffet binge. “Easy” being a sick way of looking at such a violent act to oneself, but the swiftness of an occasional act turning to addiction is frighteningly simple. 

I was in my early 20s when I went on another diet in a series of crash diets, but this one hit different. I barely ate and worked out intensely each day. I decided to reward myself at the end of the week with a large pizza and breadsticks. Devouring a whole pizza (and more) was not new to me. I could down an alarming amount of food and hit the pillow in a haze. I didn’t know about nutrition, calories, or balance for many years to come. The meal went down the toilet, and I resumed my starvation diet. The calorie deficit pushed me closer to addiction’s ledge, and the hunger sent me over. 

The sporadic binge turned to several a week — running to the local country store for a smattering of chips, candy, soda, honey buns, cookies, anything to fill me up. Soon, it was a regular appointment, arranging a home buffet to mindlessly stuff my body for hours ‘til I knelt over the ceramic bowl. 

The binge-n-purge cycle turned twice daily. If I couldn’t binge at home in private, I would gorge at buffets or in my car — throwing up in restaurants, grocery stores, lobby restrooms. I lived in a house with a septic tank at the start of my illness. I clogged the tank, causing vomit to rise to the surface of the soil. Fearing further damage, I started throwing up in trash bags, collecting them in large bins, and driving them to public toilets to dispose of them. This went on for seven years, all through college, internships, and my first corporate job. 

The older man I was with was losing himself at the same time, falling deeper into the abyss of severe depression he’d battled lifelong. We saw the best in each other at the start, and the worst by the demise. His bouts of darkness were beyond my repair, no matter how hard I tried to tackle the impossible fix. How is a 21-year-old supposed to convince a 46-year-old to seek treatment, talk him down from suicidal tendencies, get him to understand people love him? I couldn’t navigate it, and food seemed to be the one thing in my control.

It also became my reward and my excuse to treat myself in the face of any stress or accomplishment. He wants to kill himself: binge. I aced a test: binge. Work was rough: binge. Food was all I lived for. Friends, family, love all took a backseat. I was ruled by a hidden hunger I kept secret from nearly everyone, though my emaciated frame didn’t go unnoticed. 

I was productive through the battle, working full time, graduating college summa cum laude, landing a solid job and moving up the ladder. All common addict attributes. Bulimia consumed me ‘til I was nearly 30 — four years after splitting from my first love, two years after he killed himself, and three years into a relationship with the man who would become my husband, and later my ex-husband.  

They say the difference between privacy and secrecy is that privacy is about respect, whereas secrecy has shame attached. So, let’s drop the shame and the secrets held far too long. It’s been 12 years since I spent my days, nights, and thousands of dollars gorging and purging for hours. Twelve years since I was face down in a toilet at my own will. 

I was a TV producer for a decade, booking more than 15,000 segments through the years. I often received pitches for February’s Eating Disorder Awareness Month and made a point to share these stories every year. Still, every pitch and every spokesperson I booked was with a woman. The stigma surrounding body dysmorphia in men continues despite men representing up to 25 percent of people with eating disorders, with members of the LGBTQ+ community at a higher risk, according to the National Association of Anorexia Nervosa and Associated Disorders. Men are also more likely to not recognize a problem, and their cases tend to be more severe by the time they see a doctor. 

Living in secret and hiding is not living. It’s shame-based and the ultimate red flag that something needs to change. It will haunt you ‘til you are unrecognizable to yourself and everyone around you. You don’t need to share your story with the world, but opening up to someone is a crucial step in recovery and healing. Living in lies and maintaining deception is the heaviest of burdens

Addiction is blinding. You are unable to see the joys, the freedoms, and opportunities awaiting when you’re solely focused on soothing your addiction’s rage. Living for the fix pushes every other interest out of focus. When you start to release the devil on your back, you make room for wings to spread and space to fly into passions suffocated far too long.

It’s taken a lot of work, therapy, reflection and learning. Not to say I’m recovered, not to say I’m healed. I’ll forever have this devil on my back. It’s about learning to quiet his rage, soothe his anxiety, and ensure his safety and love. It’s a lifelong path of healing more with each day, each year. 

And there is always hope. Even in the deepest depths of despair and isolation and ‘I’ll-never-get-better-ness.’ Whatever your circumstances, those tinges of hope are worth clinging to. They’ll carry you through. 

I don’t know where I’ll be next year, let alone a future once so clear. And I’m okay. You’re okay. The other side isn’t perfect. Nothing is. But what a gift to make it there and experience life unshackled from your ghost. 

There’s so much to see.  

Kyle Ridley is an Emmy Award winning journalist with more than two decades in print and television.

Dear Michael,

I keep getting rejected on the apps. I don’t want to put myself out there anymore.

I don’t understand gay men. I think they behave really badly.

Guys stop replying in the middle of a text conversation and then un-match me. Guys don’t show up when we make a plan to meet. After a date or even a hookup that it seems clear we both enjoyed, I never hear from the guy again.

I am a pretty good looking and successful guy. I’m not a model or a billionaire but I’m sincerely wanting to date and eventually share a life with someone.

Unfortunately, everyone I am meeting, even if they say they have similar aspirations for a partner, acts like they’re looking over my shoulder for something better, and drops me for I-don’t-know-what reason.

I don’t have a lot of trust in the sincerity of gay men.

I know I sound bitter but I’ve been at this for a while and it keeps happening.

I know there’s a saying that if it keeps happening to you, you must be the problem. Logically that makes sense.

Except, I think this keeps happening so often and so predictably that it’s not me. These people hardly know me. It’s more along the lines of, if everything about me isn’t exactly what they want, or some little thing that I say, think, or do offends them, they vanish.

I’m lonely, but what’s out there is awful. Maybe it’s best to not keep trying. 

If you have a different way of seeing it that’s honest, not just some fluff to make me feel better and be hopeful, please enlighten me.

Michael replies:

I agree with you, there is a lot of this kind of behavior out there. I hear stories similar to yours all the time. Though people do find great relationships online, relying on apps to meet a partner can be tricky.

Hookup apps have little to do with any kind of real connection. Often, they don’t even have much to do with sex. For a lot of people, they’re more about trying to fill up some kind of emptiness and seeking validation. They also, obviously, objectify men, which is the opposite experience of what you’re seeking.

And dating apps lend themselves to a sort of takeout menu concept of dating. You get to specify exactly what you’re looking for—a little of this, a lot of that, please omit something else—and then believe you should get what you ordered. As if that really exists. And when something isn’t just what you wanted, forget it. 

But life doesn’t work that way. Nor do people: You can enter the exact criteria for the man of your dreams, but he will surprise you or let you down at times in some major ways. That’s how it goes. Part of being in a relationship is accepting that we all have to deal with imperfection.

All that said, hordes of people are going to keep using all sorts of apps and keep looking for “perfect” partners and keep ditching perfectly fine guys for the most minuscule of reasons. 

But that doesn’t mean that you have to stay on the apps if it’s demoralizing you and leaving you hopeless.

Before you sign off, perhaps you would like to have some fun and be creative. Just for example, you could write in your profile that you’re interested in meeting a guy who isn’t looking for perfection and is looking for a decent soul rather than a set of stats. You still might encounter a lot of guys who ghost you for no apparent reason, but you also might have some luck finding a sincere someone with relationship goals that are similar to yours.

Another, complimentary strategy: Toughen up your attitude to stop letting let these rejections get under your skin. They have little to do with who you are (unless you are oblivious to some major issue about yourself), so you needn’t take them personally. In other words, expect this to keep happening; and when it does, laugh and keep moving forward.  

I understand you are feeling like giving up on gay men in general. Keep in mind that while there are a lot of reasons why many gay men focus more on sex and less on commitment, that isn’t true across the board. In my work over the years, I have met many gay men who are looking for what you’re seeking. You could strive to be hopeful that if you keep looking, you are likely to cross paths with some of them. 

And where you look may play a role.

Whether or not you stay on the apps, I suggest you seek additional ways to meet a potential boyfriend. Before apps existed, people did find other ways to meet romantic partners, and these ways do still exist. I know that this path is not an easy one. The whole dating endeavor isn’t easy. But difficult is not impossible.  

There are social and activity groups for gay men that are organized around some sort of shared interest. They aren’t overtly sexual, so often attract people who are interested in and looking for a deeper connection. Even if you don’t meet a boyfriend there, you might make some like-minded friends, and one thing may lead to another in all sorts of ways. 

There’s also plenty you can do as a human being (not simply as a gay man) in the offline world that might interest and even uplift you, where you just might meet a man you like. Again, you might also simply make some friends, and through having a bigger social life, might ultimately meet your guy.

Simply put: Don’t let yourself feel like or be a victim. Don’t keep putting yourself in miserable situations. And figure out what it means for you to do your best to make what you’d like to happen, happen. 

Michael Radkowsky, Psy.D. is a licensed psychologist who works with couples and individuals in D.C., Maryland, Virginia, and New York. He can be found at michaelradkowsky.com. All identifying information has been changed for reasons of confidentiality. Have a question? Send it to [email protected].