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I am gay, in my mid-thirties, live in a big city and would say that I have a fairly reflective relationship with my body, with lust and with substances. Nevertheless, it took me a while to be able to answer honestly what role poppers play in my sex life – and why I sometimes deliberately choose not to use them.
For many gay men, poppers are somehow part of the scene. Not always, not automatically – but they are present. In conversations, in darkrooms, in dating profiles, sometimes quite naturally on the bedside table. For me, it was mainly curiosity at first. I wanted to know what everyone meant when they talked about ‘more intensity’ or ‘easier letting go’.
My first experiences
The first time was unspectacular. I was in my early twenties, with a guy who was much more experienced than me. He asked casually, ‘Do you like poppers?’ I had no idea what to expect, but I didn’t want to seem inexperienced. So I nodded.
What I remember is this brief, warm rush. Pressure in my head, a rapid heartbeat, a feeling of heat and a few seconds in which everything seemed louder, closer, more immediate. And yes, physically it did make things easier. Muscles that are otherwise tense relaxed more quickly. This can make a difference, especially during anal intercourse.
At the time, I thought: Oh, so that’s the trick. A little booster that makes things easier.
Today, I see it in a more nuanced way.
When poppers help me
I’ll be honest: there are situations where poppers are actually helpful for me.
1. When I’m very tense
Sometimes I come home after a long day at work, my head is full, my body isn’t really relaxed. Even if I feel like it, I notice that I’m still holding on inside. Poppers can then act like a quick ‘reset’. My blood vessels dilate, my muscles relax, I breathe differently.
This can be particularly helpful in practices where relaxation is crucial. I don’t have to fight my own resistance for minutes on end. It feels more physically accessible.
2. During intense moments
There are moments when I consciously want to increase the intensity. A climax, a particularly deep moment – this brief intoxication can intensify the sensation. Sounds seem closer, touches more electric.
What’s important to me is that I don’t use it continuously. One or two short puffs at a specific moment. Not as a permanent state.
3. When I want to let go of control
It may sound paradoxical, but sometimes that’s exactly my issue: control. I plan a lot, think a lot, reflect a lot. When it comes to sex, I don’t always want to be the analyst. Poppers can help me think less for a few seconds.
It’s not a miracle cure. But it can ease the transition – from the head to the body.
The downsides that I have learned to take seriously
As positive as some experiences were, there are just as clear limitations.
1. When I notice that I ‘need’ it
A warning sign for me is when I think to myself, ‘I can’t do this without poppers.’ As soon as a substance becomes a prerequisite, I take a closer look. Why do I believe that? Am I insecure? Am I in pain? Am I lacking confidence?
There were times when I thought I was less capable without poppers. That wasn’t a nice thought. It made me dependent on an effect that my body can actually achieve on its own – with time, communication and practice.
That’s why I now consciously refrain from using them on a regular basis. To show myself that I can do without them.
2. In new encounters
When I meet someone new, I often leave poppers out of it. I want to know what our interaction feels like without chemical enhancement. How do we react to each other? How do we communicate? Is there trust?
Poppers can lower inhibitions. But sometimes I want to feel those inhibitions in order to understand what they are telling me.
3. When alcohol is involved
For me, that’s a clear boundary. The combination of alcohol and poppers can put a lot of strain on the circulatory system. I once noticed how I suddenly felt dizzy, my heart was racing, and I had to sit down.
Since then, the rule has been: if I’ve been drinking, the bottle stays closed.
4. With certain health factors
I don’t take medications such as Viagra or other PDE-5 inhibitors in combination with poppers. I am aware that this can lead to dangerous drops in blood pressure. This limit is non-negotiable for me.
In general, I listen to my body more than I used to. If I am tired, if my heart is racing, if I don’t feel stable – then I refrain.
What poppers are not for me
They are not a substitute for communication. They are not a substitute for lubricant. They are not a substitute for trust. And they are not proof of ‘more extreme’ sex.
I have experienced how, in some contexts, a subtle pressure arises: anyone who doesn’t like poppers is considered uptight or inexperienced. I think that’s dangerous. Lust is individual. Substances should always be an option – never an expectation.
For me, poppers are a tool. No more, no less.
My conscious abstinence
There was a phase when I completely abstained for several months. Not for moral reasons, but out of curiosity: how would my sex life feel if I didn’t rely on this kick?
Surprisingly good.
I learned that relaxation can be trained. That breathing, patience and communication can make a big difference. That intensity can be achieved without a chemical push – sometimes even more sustainably.
When I consciously abstain today, it doesn’t feel like deprivation. More like a decision. I choose clarity. Full body awareness. An orgasm without the intoxicating filter.
And sometimes I decide otherwise.
Responsibility in use
What is important to me is honesty with myself.
Am I taking it because I really want to?
Or because I think I have to perform?
Because I want to belong?
Or because I’m afraid of pain?
I now ask myself these questions automatically.
I inform myself about the risks. I pay attention to quality. I store it properly. I don’t share bottles. And I accept that not everyone has positive experiences with it.
Conclusion
For me, poppers are neither the devil’s work nor a magic potion. They are a substance with an effect – pleasant for some, unpleasant or risky for others.
It can help when I’m tense, when I’m looking for intensity or want to let go of control.
I consciously refrain from using it when I feel dependent, when alcohol is involved, when there are health risks or when I want to experience an encounter without distortion.
Ultimately, for me it’s about self-determination. About informed decisions. And about the fact that pleasure is not a competition.