Back Again, Naturally

There was a group of guys who once danced around on stage and sang the lyrics, “Oh my God, we’re back again…” and now, as you read this, so am I. I’m coming back to my roots, taking this journey full circle.

Years ago, okay, maybe more than two decades ago, I blogged regularly, sharing my hot takes on whatever was relevant in my life. I probably overshared, but it was my way of connecting with someone, literally anyone, willing to sit down and read what I had to say. Then came Twitter and the rise of “micro-blogging,” where you could fire off thoughts in real time. I fell in love with the platform and the feeling that the world needed to know exactly what I was thinking or feeling at any given moment. It was exhilarating, to say the least.

My first blog? DeadJournal. I was in high school, writing too much about myself without actually knowing who I was. I’ve revisited that page from time to time, and some of it has become part of the Mortified storytelling show I perform. There’s something deeply satisfying about giving that awkward teenager an audience and, in turn, the love and acceptance he was so clearly craving.

After high school and into my college years, I tried a variety of blog formats. There were the Xanga years, where I documented my soap opera obsession and even befriended All My Children’s Leven Rambin, who was part of that same blogging community. Then came the MySpace blog era, part digital diary, part social update.

One of the biggest blogging highlights came when a friend recommended me for a new blog called NeighborBee, where I was asked to write about my dating life and provide the “gay perspective.” The next thing I knew, I was sitting in a Google conference room in New York. Each of us “bees” would cover different neighborhoods and communities. I was about to become their gay Carrie Bradshaw, albeit without the bus ads or real estate budget.

That same year, Gossip Girl launched, and I was intrigued by the anonymity of its narrator. While Carrie put her name in the byline, I wanted to stay hidden. God forbid my parents found out about my secret gay dating life in New York. I picked the pseudonym “The Paulinator” because, well, that’s what bees do. It was a fun way to include my name but still felt cheeky given the content I was sharing. I wrote weekly about anything and everything related to being gay in New York. I’m so glad I saved those entries. NeighborBee didn’t last long, but I was able to preserve the posts and migrate them to Tumblr, yet another stop on my blogging journey.

I was constantly chasing the next platform, looking for a place where my voice could be heard and maybe even make an impact. Eventually, I found my home. My homepage, actually.

I’d been building websites since the GeoCities and Angelfire days of high school, mostly fan sites dedicated to Guiding Light actors and the fan-fiction storylines I wished I could see on screen. As I grew up, my sites evolved too. I started sharing my real life: raw, honest, unfiltered. I talked about the painful process of coming out, including the time my brother said one of the most hurtful things I’ve ever heard. I wrote pop culture rants, reviewed cabaret shows, and even called out a performer’s use of the “R” word in a song. He ended up emailing me to say he was sorry and would rethink his language going forward. That moment stuck with me. I wasn’t famous, but I was heard.

One performer who did more than just hear me was Cait Doyle, aka The Hot Mess in Manhattan. She encouraged my writing and welcomed my feedback, even when it was critical. More than that, she became one of the greatest gifts in my life. Cait was the first friend I made after coming out, someone who never knew the “straight version” of me. With her, I never had to pretend to be anything but myself.

So why this walk down blogging memory lane? Because I’m ready to write again. As I move into production on the final season of Misguided and reflect on the completion of my memoir, I wanted a space to create in a more intentional, less algorithm-driven way. Something slower. Something more, well me.

I’m calling this blog No Reciprocation Necessary. It’s a phrase I toyed with years ago, and now it’s become something like a personal mission statement. I’m not here chasing likes or clicks. I just want to write, to share, to exercise the creative muscle, and make a little meaning from the everyday moments. Think of these entries as essays: personal, purposeful, and meant to last longer than a scroll.

They’ll explore what I’m living through: all of the joys, challenges, awkward detours, and maybe a few soap opera references along the way. I’m not here to disappear from the world or tune out the hard stuff. But I am here to reconnect with writing as a tool for healing and storytelling.

As for a posting schedule, I’m currently feeling inspired by Susan Lucci’s original introduction. When she finally won her Daytime Emmy for Outstanding Lead Actress in a Drama Series, she said she was only supposed to be on “every other Tuesday.” So for now, expect a new entry every other Tuesday.

Thank you for being here, whether you’ve known me for years or just found your way to this corner of the internet. I’m glad you're here. I hope you stick around.

See you soon.