Growing up, the concept of being gay wasn’t exactly front and center in my world. In fact, it was pretty much on the periphery, something whispered about rather than openly discussed. So, when I say I wasn’t a gay trailblazer, that’s a massive understatement. My journey of self-discovery happened much later, in my late twenties. However, looking back, the seeds were definitely sown much earlier, probably around pre-teen age. And if I’m being completely honest, there was a specific moment, a pop culture touchstone, that pretty much solidified my burgeoning preference for men. Ask any gay man of a certain age, and they can likely pinpoint their first 80s TV man crush. We’re talking iconic figures – think the rugged charm of Magnum P.I., the All-American appeal of Bo Duke, the cool authority of Erik Estrada, the smoldering intensity of Lorenzo Lamas, or the sophisticated allure of Harry Hamlin. These were the heartthrobs of the era.
John Wesley Shipp in his early career
For me, that pivotal figure was a soap opera star, the undeniably handsome John Wesley Shipp. He played the role of Dr. Kelly Nelson on Guiding Light from 1980 to 1984, and he unknowingly became my first major male crush.
The scene is etched in my memory. I was at my babysitter’s house, a place where the television was always tuned to Guiding Light. My babysitter was a devoted fan, and through the osmosis of childhood proximity, I became a pre-pubescent devotee by association. Then came the “Summer School” episode in 1980. In this particular episode, John Wesley Shipp emerged from a swimming pool, water cascading off his sculpted physique. He proceeded to towel himself dry, clad in a maroon Speedo.
John Wesley Shipp in Guiding Light maroon speedo scene
As I sat there, innocently munching on vanilla wafers, a strange and unfamiliar sensation coursed through me. It was, as a drag queen once hilariously described to me years later, a “tingly in your no-no place” moment.
Yup – and then some. It was more than just a tingle; it was a full-blown awakening, even if I didn’t fully understand it at the time.
Adding another layer of complexity to this nascent realization was my attendance at a rather strict, fundamentalist Christian academy. Growing up in that environment, grappling with these new feelings was… complicated. Straddling the line between repression and burgeoning obsession, it’s honestly a wonder I didn’t spontaneously combust from sheer internal conflict. (On a related note, that Christmas, a subscription to Soap Opera Digest was at the top of my wish list – a testament to the powerful impact of daytime drama on my young mind.)
Years later, thanks to the wonders of YouTube, I rediscovered that iconic clip. Watching it now, it seems almost tame, even benign. But back then, for me, it was seismic. (And for eagle-eyed viewers, keep an eye out for a very young, slightly awkward Kevin Bacon in the background, doing his best not to look too dorky).
So, what was it about John Wesley Shipp that triggered this profound reaction? Looking back, it was probably a combination of factors. Firstly, his on-screen persona as Dr. Kelly Nelson was incredibly appealing. He was tall, imposing, yet radiated a sense of warmth and likeability. Secondly, and somewhat paradoxically, despite playing a doctor, he often came across as slightly goofy and endearingly clueless.
He imprinted on me in that moment, much like a newly hatched bird instinctively follows its mother. It was a formative experience that unknowingly shaped my future romantic inclinations.
John Wesley Shipp in Guiding Light as Dr. Kelly Nelson
To this day, I find myself perpetually drawn to the same characteristics: big, tall, and yes, perhaps a touch on the less-than-brilliant side. (Sorry, Mensa members, but you’re probably not my type!).
Fast forward a few decades. I learned that John Wesley Shipp would be appearing at Planet Comicon in Kansas City. Suddenly, that dormant childhood crush resurfaced with surprising intensity. I have genuinely never exerted so much energy into meeting anyone as I did in my quest to get close to JWS. It bordered on comical stalkerish behavior, and I am simultaneously impressed and slightly horrified by the lengths I went to secure a behind-the-scenes meet-and-greet. (My sincere apologies to the media reps at Planet Comicon who had to field my near-daily, increasingly desperate press requests. Mea culpa. Mea culpa.)
Author meeting John Wesley Shipp at Planet Comicon
The funny thing about meeting your childhood idol is that the idealized image you’ve constructed rarely survives contact with reality. John Wesley Shipp was incredibly polite and genuinely pleasant. He greeted me with a megawatt smile that could have powered a small city. He was gracious and even complimented my shirt – a garment I had meticulously chosen and purchased just days before, hoping to project an image of effortless cool. (Spoiler alert: I did not achieve effortless cool. I looked more like a slightly chubby, geometric rainbow).
During our brief but momentous backstage encounter, did I confess to him the profound impact that Speedo scene had on my adolescent development? Did I mention the countless “impure” thoughts he had inadvertently inspired? Did I declare, in dramatic fashion, that if loving him was wrong, I simply didn’t want to be right?
No. No. And emphatically, no.
John Wesley Shipp signing autographs for fans
But, in the unspoken language of fan adoration, I believe there was a mutual understanding. He knew that I knew that he knew… you get the picture.
After our brief exchange, I watched as he effortlessly transitioned into charming autograph-signing mode, flashing those pearly whites for what seemed like another 25 paying fans. (These were, of course, mere mortals who had actually paid for the privilege of his presence. As a self-proclaimed “esteemed member of the press” – a title I was perhaps overusing – I felt like we were practically becoming best friends).
John Wesley Shipp interacting with fans
Walking away from the experience, a wave of amusement washed over me. Who gets to meet their childhood crush and even share a bro-hug? It was a surreal and slightly ridiculous moment. I wouldn’t swear to it, but I’m almost certain I heard a faint clap of thunder as we embraced – a subtle shift, perhaps, in the very fabric of the gay time-space continuum.
