I've been fighting for more than 24 years and as I continue my ascendant career, I want to be true to myself. I want to try to be the best role model I can be for kids who might look into boxing as a sport and a professional career. I have and will always be a proud Puerto Rican. I have always been and always will be a proud gay man.
I don't want to be seen only as a boxer who is gay. I want to be a boxer who is professional, who pursues his goals and realizes his dreams. And my biggest dream is the world championship belt.
But I also want kids who suffer from bullying to know that you can be whoever you want to be in life, including a professional boxer. That anything is possible and that who you are or whom you love should not be an impediment to achieving anything in life.
15 or 20 years ago it would not have been possible for me to come out. Back then, people still had such narrow views, but today many of them are more liberal. Being gay is no longer a taboo in many parts of society. That has affected sports, even boxing.
I developed physically and mentally to take such a big step in my life and in my profession, which is boxing, knowing that it would have pros and cons, highs and lows in this sport that is so macho. I kept this hidden for many, many years.
For a long time I didn't want to accept that I was gay. Better said: I couldn't accept it because I was too afraid. Homosexuals were discriminated against in Puerto Rico back then, sometimes even killed. I had a friend named José, but we called him Linoshka because he was a transvestite. He was stabbed to death in the street at the age of 19 by a homophobe because he had taken part in a gay-pride parade.
It is very unusual for someone from Latin American society to openly stand by his homosexuality. In my hometown, there are still lots of prejudices against gays. We are often not considered to be fully-fledged people. The family is sacred there; having children means more than anything else.
Until the moment I came out as a gay, I have kept my personal life and my career strictly separate from each other. No one was supposed to know that I'm gay. This game of hide-and-seek was incredibly strenuous and it took a lot of energy out of me. Now I'm hoping that I can put that energy into my training.
Four years ago, I was fighting for the world championship title in Puerto Rico. The spectators bad-mouthed me; they called me a faggot. They told my opponent to pluck my feathers. In Puerto Rico, when you talk disparagingly about a gay man, you call him a duck. That's when I realized that something had to change.
I came out as a gay as I have earned myself respect as an athlete. I have only lost 2 out of 22 professional fights. I knocked out some of my opponents in the first round. But I never really received respect as a person. That's something I had come to realize over the past few years. The end of my boxing career is no longer that far off, and it was time for me to make peace with myself. And there was a second reason for me to come out: I hoped it would make me a better boxer.
Boxing is a sport that is largely dominated by machos, by men who think we have to conform to a very specific role model. The ideal boxer doesn't think too much, is raw and brimming with strength. I am also fascinated by strength, but for me style is a part of that.
In the old days talks would have made me angry. But now that I've come out, everyone knows the truth. That's like a protective shield against comments like that. Stupid remarks and jokes no longer hurt me, because I can stand by being gay. Nowadays I can even laugh at jokes about gays. Now I feel free, hungry and strong.
