Track 09: Boys II Men

As artists, people expect us to grow. Get sharper, get smoother, keep leveling up but still sound like ourselves. That’s how people recognize you. That’s how you stay relevant. What we don’t talk about enough is how the same thing applies to life. The greatest piece of art you’ll ever work on is yourself. You’re the canvas. You’re the instrument. If you stop evolving, life stops moving the way it should.

When I was a boy, I thought being the man of the house was my job. My dad would say that to me and I didn’t even know what it meant. My mom was strong, but I felt like I had to protect her and my sister. Being tall for my age made adults expect me to act older than I was. So I stayed up under my mom, stayed around grown folks, and that gave me the old soul I got today. But it also meant I didn’t always get to be a kid, which is why I let my inner child breathe now. Not out of immaturity, but because I didn’t always get that space when I was younger.

Elementary school was rough sometimes. Kids called me Princess instead of Preston, teased me for being softer than most Black boys. My mom put me in karate at Lloyd Irvin’s, and being around those Que Dawgs toughened me up a little. By middle school, the teasing wasn’t as direct anymore, but I knew I was different. I liked girls, but I also found myself noticing boys. I told myself I shouldn’t think that way, but the thoughts were there.

By high school, I couldn’t ignore it. I had crushes on my choir director, my classmate Bilal, and Cy from the choir. I’d catch myself jacking off thinking about them and realized, yeah, this is different. But it didn’t feel right, because everything I’d been taught said being gay was wrong and meant I was going to hell. My masculinity was always soft and gentle though. I wasn’t the jock, I wasn’t the cool guy. I was in choir and I edited the yearbook. That was me.

College was a whole war in itself. I wanted my dad to be proud of me, but I also didn’t want to be like him. At that age, not being like him meant not drowning in liquor, not chasing women, and not breaking commitments. But the truth was I didn’t really know him beyond him not being there. That absence shaped me more than anything. I even chased and rebelled through fraternities. He told me when I was younger, “I don’t care what frat you join, just not Kappa or Iota.” So of course, I looked at Kappa and Iota. The Iotas showed me love but I realized it wasn’t for me. Kappa looked good because they were popular but thankfully they played in my face. Then I thought about Alpha, because my Dad was one, and maybe that would make him proud. But I followed my heart, went to a Sigma interest meeting, and didn’t make line. Later in life, I circled back and finally became a Sigma, which was the perfect fit. When I told him I was on line, he supported me more than I expected. That meant a lot to me.

Those college years also shaped how I showed up as a gay man. It didn’t stop me from being gay, but it made me think I had to move a certain way. I told myself I needed to be a top, because tops were seen as more masculine and dominant. That way, I could say, “Yeah I’m gay, but I’m not an embarrassment.” That mindset stuck with me for a long time.

By the time I moved to Columbus in my mid twenties, life had already handed me some heavy hits. Loss, heartbreak, setbacks, near death experiences. I wasn’t really living for Preston, I was surviving. But Columbus gave me space to grow into myself as a Black gay man. I found love, but I wrapped too much of myself into my relationship and then my marriage. My suicide attempt at 29 became a turning point. That moment forced me to start living for me. It was the start of me loving all of me, even the parts I had been scared to show.

That stretch of life was heavy. I joined Sigma and found a brotherhood that felt like home. I lost my grandfather. I lost my father. I lost friends, both to death and to distance. But I also started chasing my dreams. All of that pain and growth shaped me into the man I am now.

Now I’m coming up on 35, and I’m realizing there are parts of me I suppressed for years. I’ve always been attracted to women, but because I liked men too, I thought I had to pick a side. When I was diagnosed with HIV, I felt like the door to that part of me closed forever. So I focused on men. It wasn’t until I really started to understand that sexuality is a spectrum that I was able to say, “Yeah, I still find women attractive, and that’s okay.” I don’t have it all figured out yet, especially being married, but it feels good to finally acknowledge that part of me.

Even football came back into my life in a new way. Growing up, I loved it. I played Madden, watched games every Sunday, went to games when I could. But as I accepted my sexuality, it slipped away. I didn’t mean to let it go, it just faded. In Columbus, the Redskins weren’t on TV and I stopped keeping up because they were trash lol. Then last season something shifted within the team. I started watching again and it lit a fire in me. This year I got NFL Sunday Ticket, thought about buying jerseys, and games I want to go to. That joy reminded me I’m still allowed to evolve, still allowed to rediscover parts of myself I thought I lost.

If I hadn’t allowed myself to grow, I’d still be stuck in a shell. Just taking whatever life handed me instead of creating the life I wanted. But real happiness comes from constantly finding yourself and living out who you’ve become. If you’re not figuring out what brings you joy today, how will you ever know what could bring you joy tomorrow.

That’s what Boys II Men means to me. It’s not just about getting older. It’s about healing, breaking cycles, and standing in the fullness of who you are. It’s about understanding your father without becoming his mistakes. It’s about honoring the boy, embracing the man, and never stopping the evolution in between.

So, how are you evolving? What parts of you still need room to grow. What have you been hiding that is scratching its way to the surface.

If this hit you, check out more from The RebelGent Unplugged. I’m sharing my story track by track, unfiltered, unapologetic, and unplugged. And if you want to see everything I’m building, from music to graphic design to community, pull up to Kingfinity.org.