What We
Let Inside
A Conversation with Micah Marquez
There are men who know how to command attention. Then there are men who know how to hold it.
Micah Marquez belongs to the latter.
As the co-founder and CEO of Deviant, Micah has spent years creating spaces where Black queer people gather in celebration, exploration, and community. He understands pleasure. He understands performance. He understands desire. But what became clear in this conversation is that he is equally interested in what lives beneath those things. Beneath the music. Beneath the bodies. Beneath the stories we tell ourselves about love, freedom, and belonging.
The photographs that follow are an invitation. The conversation that follows is a witness.
Together, they reveal a man standing at an interesting crossroads: between heartbreak and healing, freedom and responsibility, loneliness and connection, fantasy and truth. What begins as a conversation about intimacy becomes something larger—a meditation on partnership, sexual liberation, grief, friendship, and the courage required to remain open after loss.
The Love Party begins where most conversations end: after the performance. After the post. After the hookup. After the applause. Every publication eventually introduces itself. Not through a mission statement, but through a conversation. Consider this ours.
Keilan Scott Photography
The Love Party: How would you describe the season of life you’re currently in?
Micah Marquez: I like to think of my life as a book that I narrate with chapters, and this one is called Blossoming. I’m coming back into myself after a very difficult season of pruning, wherein I lost a lot of things and people I thought important and irreplaceable to me. After all that pruning, I was uprooted myself, I moved away from New York City, everything I built there for myself there and associated as safety, and have replanted myself in Atlanta. I see myself as the rose, propagated and beginning to take root again, this time in Atlanta, as an adult and now beginning to blossom again.
TLP: What made you say yes to being one of the first faces of The Love Party?
MM: I mean, the name: “The Love Party” is right up my alley. I’m a Pisces. I love Love, and SOME times I also love to party. Also, I have an affinity for the editor of this editorial, Dave. You’re a brilliant soul Dave and I’m honored to do any work with you. Your passion for cultivating space for Black Queer community to exist fully is admirable. I’m glad we’ve found space to share in this work with The Love Party. I hope this blesses people.
TLP: What do you hope people see when they look at these photographs?
MM: Well… laughs I don’t want to be fake deep here. I hope people see these pics and muthafukin cream. I’m trying to be on the vision board and the “gooning board” with these. Someone recently showed me a pic from my college modeling days and told me it was on their “gooning board”; shit made me laugh and inspired me to bring some new heat. I hit up my photographer homie, Keilan, who I’m hella comfortable with and asked him to light me up.
TLP: What does intimacy mean to you today?
MM: Intimacy to me today looks like quality times, conversations and ultimately making memories of our own that we’ll share forever and never forget. Intimacy is also the intentional and sometimes unintentional sharing of our shadow selves; revealing the parts of us that feel most unlovable, and trusting and choosing to love another with it all. Those parts include our fears, shames, secrets, wildest dreams, problematic ideologies, kinks, insecurities, and more.
TLP: Do you feel seen in your everyday life beyond being desired?
MM: Honestly, I feel like people who actually meet me in person and get to know me do see me. I’m hella boundaried these days: I don’t let people touch me without permission and I don’t even engage in intrusive conversations that make me uncomfortable. That doesn’t stop people’s projections or rumors online, often associated with my baby, Deviant, but so be it. I’ve learned to protect and defend myself personally. I’m not an object or organization for consumption. I am kind at heart and naturally friendly. However, I am not subjected to individuals’ desires. Personally, I practice a careful sex life, where I’m abstinent while dating, until and unless I feel emotionally safe and connected to someone I’m dating. It keeps me from being consumed and feeling used, like a product. I’m a person and it’s up to me to protect my personhood.
TLP: What has your relationship with your body taught you about confidence?
MM: My relationship with my body is so funny. It’s such a dance. You know? Like, I always love my body, but it is alive and well. Meaning, when I don’t take care of it with proper diet, exercise and stretching, it tightens up on me and delivers me aches and pains. But confidence, I’ve learned to love this vehicle of life no matter how slim, thick or hairy it gets. My body is my best friend to be honest. She take care of me and I do my best to take care of her.
TLP: As a Black queer man, when did you first realize your body was being viewed differently by the world around you?
MM: Mmm… really when I embraced my queerness, I realized that the world saw me more sexually than just expressive. When I modeled in my past, there was admiration, but I wasn’t seen as sexually accessible. Something about my queer identity makes people feel more comfortable. At best that’s folks finding their own comfortability around me, but at worst, that’s people forgetting consent entirely and disrespecting my bodily agency. I often have to remind people not to touch me.
TLP: What do people misunderstand most about desire?
MM: Consent. Desire does not equal access. You cannot project your desire onto someone else’s person. Like, our bodies are always ours, no matter how much or how little of it we decided to show off. I think the experience in dressing sexy at Deviant exposed me to a sliver of what women go through in social spaces. “Sexy” is an expression for myself. It makes me feel good and excited, ready to dance and have fun. It’s not an invitation for hands. Existing in predominantly male spaces has taught me that men, regardless of sexuality, have really not been schooled on “consent”. Unwelcome touch is not flattering.
TLP: You’ve openly described yourself as a bottom and a size queen. What do you think those labels reveal about you—and what do they fail to capture?
MM: Oop. I don’t recall these statements, but I’d like to clarify: I like bottoming– yeah. However I’m almost always more dominant sexually, so I end up attracting more bottoms than I do tops. Also, while I have found favor in large packages; experience has taught me that connection and chemistry is what makes great sex. Some of the best sexual experience I’ve had as a bottom was with a beautiful chocolate short king. He was short in the pants too, but the vibes between us were so heavy. When it came down to it, ol boy had my whole body tingling because his member massaged my prostate the entire time. I was dick-matized and in a daze for a min. So… while size is important, I’d say that what’s most important is that connection, chemistry and listening to one another’s bodies.
TLP: Has what attracts you changed over time?
MM: Absolutely. Kindness and a sense of humor is what catches my attention these days. Don’t get me wrong. I’m still a bird and I have various physical and vibe turn-ons. But a physical attribute and swag alone won’t entice me to go any further than offering a compliment and maaaaaybe flirting. What will get me to give out my number and agree to time together, is good gut laughter that can’t be fronted, an intriguing conversation that doesn’t feel pompous or pretentious and/or just genuine kindness. I’m an energy guy, and those are the kinds of energies I want to be around. The comedian that brightens my world, the intellect committed to Black liberation and empowerment, or the gentle soul, whose mere presence makes the world feel like a softer, cozier place to exist in. Comedy, compassion and intelligence. I intentionally didn’t mention intelligence alone as one of my attractions, because I’ve always been into intelligent men. Unfortunately I’ve learned that intelligence without compassion is breeding grounds for grandiose narcissists. That kindness, compassion and comedy are necessary for emotional safety and connection.
TLP: What makes someone feel emotionally safe to you?
MM: Well… I think I just answered this, but with genuine kindness and compassion are what create emotional safety for me. Someone who I can see and tell gives a fuck about others. And you can see it in people’s actions. It’s those people who are kind to pets, and acknowledge the unhoused, even if it’s just a “I’m sorry. I don’t carry cash”. People, who are curious to learn about your upbringing and then meet your most challenging loved ones, so that they can become a part of the story of creating safety with and for you. That’s where I feel emotionally safe, with those who display genuine curiosity and compassion. Not the tyrants or know-it-alls.
TLP: How has marriage changed your understanding of partnership?
MM: Well, marriage was really special and felt like a relief for the time it lasted. I have many great memories of being held both physically and emotionally, during some tumultuous times. I’ll forever relish those memories, but the bond itself is dissolved. To be clear: I’m no longer married, and that process of un-coupling is what really has deepened my perspective and understanding on “partnership”….
TLP: What part of yourself have you had to reclaim since your marriage ended?
MM: Well, my marriage ended because of my own fuck-up. I made the mistake, and the real danger was when I began making an identity out of that experience. Abandonment only further reinforced that frame of thinking: that I was indeed the very worst thing I’d ever done in life….
TLP: What’s the difference between being wanted and being loved?
MM: Whew chile. I think for much of my life, I’ve been wanted. I think in that last marriage I was wanted until I was not. Being loved means being cared for, regardless of how it may or may not serve that other person. My friends Michael, Brittany, Erick, and Marcus, they love me. My grandmom, Dad, bonus-mom and older brother love me. They don’t care how I may or may not serve them. They don’t care if what I do makes them feel good. They care that I am well. They care that I am alive and thriving and happy. What it means to be loved is to be experienced and seen through a lens of grace, wherein you are always precious. Almost like a child, those who love you will seek and find your innocence, and even when you do wrong they will listen and remind you of your humanity. They don’t require performance or payment of any kind. Their heart just swells to know you are well. I am grateful to everyone who loves me, and has helped me find myself and my worthiness on those darkest and most confusing phases of my life. I feel brand new, washed clean by their love for me.
TLP: Do you think today’s queer sex culture is making us more connected to each other—or more disconnected from ourselves?
MM: I think there’s something powerful to be reclaimed in sex, and the Queer community has historically led the charge on free thinking, body autonomy, pleasure, and even healthcare access as it relates to a demand for sexual health resources. However, I do think that many of us have lost the plot. Is what we’re doing to and with one another revolutionary or setting us free? I think a few phases of reclaiming one’s sexual self, learning to navigate sexual health and prioritize pleasure is so necessary. I call them hoe-phases, and I think they should be just that — a phase. But after a while it’s just like anything else we consume too much, it’s unhealthy. And I’m not referring to our bodily health that may be safeguarded with PrEP or DoxyPEP, but our minds take a toll when we are physically touched and sexually experienced but rarely really known, seen, heard or held.
What many people in our community need these days are hugs and cuddle sessions. That’s my next event venture: Adult Naps, where we cuddle out in the open; completely nonsexual with low to no music, so people can talk and be heard if needed. After we’ve discovered what gets us off, we need to figure out who’s going to really do life with us, when our sexual parts no longer work the way we want them to. Who’s going to love and appreciate you for you? The connection we’re experiencing in today’s queer sex culture is superficial, like candy. It’s making us feel good quick and immediately, but our minds and psyches are craving more. The proof is in the mere fact that we’re facing an epidemic of loneliness in American society. Sex and hookups apps and dark rooms and sex parties have never been more accessible. Yet, people are not being fed the nutrients and sustenance of meaningful connection that our psyches really need; hence suicide, overdose, depression.
We’ve all heard the stories of a friend of a friend through the grapevine. The beautiful boy, who partied all the time and had a big dick and smiled often and was in the one relationship and somehow or another he’s not here with us today. Something suddenly went wrong at his ripe age of 30-something. It’s terrifying but it should be a wakeup call to all of us. We need better balance. I’m not shaming queer sex or queer sex culture or saying we should stop having it. I am calling on our community members and leaders alike to turn down the music, turn up the lights, and take some space and time alone to interrogate ourselves before continuing the escapism of sex and drugs and drinking. Are we actually achieving our hopes and dreams? Are we loving ourselves and one another in ways we can be proud about? Are we any closer to the life goals and legacy we want to leave behind? When and if the answers are “yes” then by all means, lights off and get back to business. However, if you identify that you’re wanting something different, then take the space and time away to realign yourself to accomplish that thing.
Sexual liberation to me today means true self awareness and sexual autonomy. That looks like being in-tune with my pleasure and empowered to put together a life that aligns my sexual pleasure with my other life goals, including career, family, friends, housing. Unfortunately, I’ve seen people putting sex in front of all other priorities in their lives and it sucks. I’ve witnessed countless relationships end because of someone’s obsessive need for validation on social media. I’ve seen people lose jobs over freak-twitters exposed and sexual harassment of co-workers. I’ve seen families torn apart by cheating and creeping on the low. I’ve seen friendships blow up online because someone was more loyal to their erection than they were to someone they’ve known and loved for years on end.
TLP: Many queer people fought hard for the freedom to love, desire, and express themselves openly. What does sexual liberation mean to you today, and do you think we’re using that freedom in ways that are helping us thrive?
MM: Sexual liberation to me today means true self awareness and sexual autonomy. That looks like being in-tune with my pleasure and empowered to put together a life that aligns my sexual pleasure with my other life goals, including career, family, friends, housing. Unfortunately, I’ve seen people putting sex in front of all other priorities in their lives and it sucks. I’ve witnessed countless relationships end because of someone’s obsessive need for validation on social media. I’ve seen people lose jobs over freak-twitters exposed and sexual harassment of co-workers. I’ve seen families torn apart by cheating and creeping on the low. I’ve seen friendships blow up online because someone was more loyal to their erection than they were to someone they’ve known and loved for years on end.
TLP: How do you personally distinguish between sexual liberation and using sex to avoid loneliness, grief, or difficult emotions?
MM: I think when we take a step back to hear ourselves in the silence, we can find out what our motivations are. If we find that we’re sad, grieving or lonely, then we may need to seek support. The same way it’s unhealthy to rely on substances, drugs and drinking to numb those feelings, it’s also unhealthy to use sex. You should feel valued in relationships, beautiful, loved, intrinsically happy and worthy of love without anyone touching you. If those feelings rely on someone picking you up, touching and or prodding you like a toy, then that’s not it baby. You’re lacking a sense of self.
Even with excited impulses we got to be careful. I think people really have to interrogate themselves, write down their life goals and see if what they’re doing today is getting them to where they want to be tomorrow. If the sex and sexual lifestyle they’re leading is not aligned with that written goal, then realignment needs to take place, and it may be uncomfortable at first. But in today’s world, where there’s always someone to say “yes” to gratify our every impulse, it will be up to individuals to establish self-discipline and practice saying “no”. Intentional living and maybe intentional dating and intentional fucking is the name of the game. You heard Solange: “Do nothing without intention.”
TLP: Do you think Black queer men have enough space to talk honestly about loneliness?
MM: Nah. Niggas get uncomfortable with feelings. Gay or not, Black men would rather laugh and joke and twerk it away. We aren’t comfortable to sit with one another and discuss such emotionally intrusive feelings like loneliness.
TLP: What conversations about sexual health and emotional wellness do you wish happened more often in our community?
MM: I wish we talked a bit less about sexual health and more about mental and emotional hygiene, as it relates to sex. Like, I wish there were more space to discuss “why” we behave in certain ways, what it is we actually want and need, how we can get there with and without sex, and how sex is helping or hindering our journeys to self or community.
TLP: What role does vulnerability play in healthy relationships?
MM: Baby, if you can’t be real with yourself, you can’t be real with me. Vulnerability is your capacity to be fucking real. One thing I’ve always prided myself on is being a real bitch. For better or worse, I’m gone own my shit every time and no one can weaponize my truth against me. They can try, but at that point– that’s their projection of shame. I think more people need to get with owning their truths and being vulnerable with what’s really going on in their lives. It truly does bring us all together to know that the life we show on social media ain’t all that’s actually happening. Niccas is just as scared of their impending world war, and gas prices, and these viruses, and wanting love, and heartbroken over they ex, and what happens to their meds when ACA goes away, and struggling with their families, and how they gone afford they rent if AI replaces their job, and so on and so forth. Vulnerability is humanity at the end of the day. It’s what separates us from the robots.
TLP: What kind of love are you trying to grow toward now?
MM: I’m actually taking the rest of this year to fall in love with myself and my life. I’m open to dating and have been. It’s been nice to experience that feeling of hope, when a nigga is courting me and taking me on trips. My Pisces mind gets to go delulu and imagine having his babies and how he’d fit into my world of family and work. However, I’ve committed the rest of this year to only committing to myself. I won’t be in another partnership before the new year and I love that for me. So many niggas be trying to package the kid up and put me on the mantle, but I’m no trophy – I’m the grandprize, and I’m still discovering what that looks and feels like for myself, before I commit to giving my heart away to anyone else again.
TLP: What do you think Black queer men are quietly longing for that nobody talks about enough?
MM: I think Black Queer men need cuddling and naps. I know that’s what I really enjoy, and everyone I invite into intimate space appears to want and need the same: A space without performance or even conversation. A soft place to land and be held in a warm embrace. Your dick and ass ain’t welcome. No pretense of sex, just platonic affection. I think Black Queer men are longing for platonic affection and a resting heart rate. Deviant “Nap Time” coming soon, to a city near you. laughs
TLP: You and I have had private conversations about sex, power, desire, masculinity, fantasy, and the things people are often afraid to say out loud. What is one truth you’ve learned about yourself that you’re still not entirely comfortable discussing publicly?
MM: Hmm… I’m not incredibly comfortable with the fact that I am ALL THINGS in love: “the victim and villain at the same time”, as Beyonce put it. I am incredibly territorial, when in-love. However, I read "The Ethical Slut" and "Poly-Secure", so I do believe love exists in abundance, and that I personally flourish when I have multiple people loving me. When I was once in an open relationship, I had my primary partner, and maybe 3 other lovers that held me down sexually, when he was away. I also had a small group of close friends who comforted me emotionally through difficult times and laughed with me uncontrollably on a daily basis. I felt both supported and free during that period of my life.
These days though, when offered polyamory or even an open relationship, I stray away from it. I'm almost repulsed by the idea of it. Like... it triggers me. I kind of freak out because I don’t trust those options as reliable structures for creating stability and emotional safety for the family and home life I see myself building. That last open relationship constantly left me feeling like "Why aren't I enough for you?" I want my future children to be sure of themselves and made to feel secure by their surrounding adult guardians. I don’t want an ounce of confusion for my future offspring or for myself. In that open relationship, I experienced the goal-post always being pushed further and further. However "progressive" that relationship may have been, it never created the feelings of security and safety I needed for real life and family planning. There was always an agreement being violated, and then a new demand requirement for me to meet, if I didn't want the relationship to end. It eventually ended, but worst of all was then - me, having to decipher the parts that were actually still me, and carefully discard all the other behaviors I participated in and people I did while contorting to try and make that relationship work.
Learning more about what does and doesn't work for me, I now outright reject the offers outside of monogamy. I’ve only ever witnessed monogamous relationships to work long-term, and I know it’s where I’d personally experience emotional safety. That, coupled with the balance of close-knit friend groups and family, is where I personally thrive. I guess I am uncomfortable with evaluating whether or not that is fear-based structuring, or just who I am.
There's many other (pretty strict) rules I have around love and dating now, where I ask that same question. Like, however much I champion people's sexual expression, I personally won't date anyone whose bare dick or ass I've seen online... in a close-friends, freak Twitter, or hookup app. Meanwhile, I get the potential hypocrisy that may present, when I post my own thirst traps and sexy photos like in this series. Life and love are complicated in those ways. Many see me as "Mr. Deviant" and project this overly sexual persona onto me. In reality I'm a lover boy, who's very picky with my time and energy, and who's been accused of being quite conservative and judgmental by those I've dated seriously.
I just think, we all need to give and get a little more grace. Myself included. We're all just figuring out these things called "Love" and "Life" for the first time for real. Particularly as Black & Brown Queer people, there is no set Pink-print (wink, wink) for how this is supposed to be done. Some folks call me a thought leader and my thoughts are "I don't know". I'm just figuring out and applying what works best for me, and sharing what I think benefits the masses in our niche community. More than having any answers, I'm learning the value of asking the right questions for myself. I advise everyone else to do that same thing, but for themselves. What are your hopes and dreams? What do you want your love to look and feel like? What does success look like to and for you? When you wake up ten years from now, will you look back and be proud? Is what you're doing today getting you to where and whoyou want to be tomorrow? Are you planning for your future, or planning to fail? My mom always taught me: "If you fail to plan, you plan to fail."
As a true advocate for our community, I want us all to actualize our hopes and dreams, and that takes a bit of planning. I want to see us live long and full and fruitful lives. I want us to see life in our 60s, 70s and 80s, and be able to reflect with one another, and share tips for the next generations. That planning begins with honest self-reflection and internal interrogation. We should all be interrogating ourselves a little more, drinking and smoking and (probably) fucking a little less, so that we can hear those answers from within us, without the fog of substances, noise or sex.
I don't know. I'm still working to decipher which parts of my thinking are born out of pure love, and what parts may be fear- and trauma-based. I welcome feedback on that part. We're all on our own journeys, and this is mine... my Love-Party; separate, intimate, but still intricately-related to the one you all know as "Deviant".
