Why Gay Men Judge Their Voices
- Chris Tompkins
- Nov 16
- 4 min read
How “sounding gay” affects confidence and dating dynamics.
KEY POINTS
Many gay men alter how they speak to avoid sounding stereotypically gay, often unconsciously.
Early messages about masculinity can shape self-esteem, dating dynamics, and sense of worth.
More than half of LGB adults recently reported dissatisfaction with their voice, highlighting its prevalence.
In a recent article, actor and singer Cheyenne Jackson spoke about his struggle with what he called his “gay voice.”
For years, he said, he had felt ashamed of how he sounded, trying to minimize certain inflections or speech patterns to appear less stereotypically gay.
He reflected on the ways he internalized messages about masculinity and what it meant to be an acceptable man in the eyes of others, and how liberating it felt to stop letting the way he spoke dictate how he was judged as a man.
Stories like Jackson's aren't uncommon among many gay men. Some of my clients, for example, will refer to themselves, in an almost disdainful way, as sounding “gay,” as if a part of themselves is inherently wrong. They may soften their voice or adjust how they say something without conscious thought.
Small self-corrections accumulate over time and send unconscious messages to ourselves, reinforcing the negative beliefs we may carry about what it means to be gay and our ideas of masculinity. They shape the way we move through the world, how we let ourselves be seen, and the ways we measure our worth.
Many gay men still carry the messages they learned growing up about masculinity and hold them as a standard to compare themselves and others. We learn a narrow set of ideals about what it means to be a boy, such as being tough, stoic, athletic, or emotionally contained. If we didn’t naturally fit these expectations, it often felt like we were "less than.”
A sense of being “less than” can linger into adulthood, consciously or unconsciously, shaping not only self-esteem but also the social dynamics of dating and connection. On apps like Grindr or Sniffies, the “masc for masc” culture echoes early lessons of what we consider worthy. It signals who aligns with the rigid ideals we grew up with and who does not.
For me, masculinity has been a journey of discovery and reclamation. I grew up with men whose world was all about hunting, camping, baseball, and beer—a kind of hypermasculinity that didn’t leave much room for other expressions of manhood. I learned that to be “a man” meant to be tough, outdoorsy, and stoic. I also learned that my own way of being didn’t fit, and that my gender expression was something shameful. I internalized early lessons about masculinity from my stepdad and from the religious messages in my family that labeled being gay as deviant or “a cross to bear.”
As a result, for many years I hid who I was and tried to play the role others expected of me, even acting “straight” to fit in. It wasn’t until much later that I realized masculinity isn’t about fitting into someone else’s box. True masculinity comes from strength in vulnerability, authenticity, and defining yourself on your own terms. It's fluid and personal, not rigid or one-size-fits-all.
Much of our work as gay men is learning which messages to carry forward and which to question. Masculinity itself is not bad or wrong. The challenge comes when we use it as a marker for whether we are acceptable, worthy, or desirable.
Many of us, like Jackson, notice early on ways we modify how we speak or present ourselves to fit what we believe others expect. For years, he tried to sound less stereotypically gay, aligning his voice with masculine ideals. In a study of 382 participants (187 LGB, 195 heterosexual), 58.3 percent of the LGB participants reported dissatisfaction with their voice, highlighting how common these concerns are. Reflecting on these patterns—how we speak, move, or hold ourselves—and the beliefs we’ve internalized around them opens space for a fuller, more honest expression of ourselves.
Breaking free from rigid expectations may not happen overnight. But as with any change we want to make, bringing awareness to the parts of ourselves we judge is the first step toward healing them. If we don’t like the way we speak, or judge ourselves or others for “sounding too gay,” it helps to ask: where does that come from? What do we really mean when we say we have a “gay voice” or “I sound gay”? Learning to accept and embrace ourselves fully, without judgment, is key.
One of my favorite teachers, Louise Hay, often said that the first step in learning to love ourselves is stopping all criticism. Not liking how we sound is criticizing a very core aspect of ourselves. Bringing awareness to where that criticism comes from, and learning to love ourselves anyway, is part of reclaiming our masculinity and expressing it in a way that only we can.
Society continues to present narrow ideals, and we continue to confront messages about what it means to be a man. But each act of self-recognition, each acknowledgment of a part of ourselves we were taught to hide, brings us closer to a version of masculinity that is our own.
Reclaiming masculinity doesn’t mean giving up strength or resilience. For me, it means being able to speak, laugh, and express myself without constantly measuring up to someone else’s idea of what a man should be. It means I don’t have to hide the way I sound, change how I speak, or perform a version of manhood just to be accepted—whether in conversation, on dating apps, or in everyday life.
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Chris Tompkins is a gay male therapist in West Hollywood (Los Angeles) who specializes in working with adult gay men, individuals and couples. He supports clients navigating identity, relationships, religious trauma, addiction, and self-esteem. To learn more, explore therapeutic services or schedule a free consultation.