By continuing to use our site, you agree to our Private Policy and Terms of Use. Deondray: Quincy and I met 18 years ago through mutual friends who were straight. My friend told me, "You've got to meet Quincy.
He reminds me so much of you. He's an actor and he writes too. Y'all should talk. He had no idea we were gay. We were both actors then and very closeted for fear that it would ruin our chances in Hollywood. Our courtship began with a very complicated game of cat and mouse on a short-film shoot, which we were both actors in. Quincy: When I met Deondray, I was in a long-distance relationship, and I had spent the last two years of my life celibate, living as a licensed minister.
Even after I met him, I had no desire or intention to allow myself to feel attracted to another man. I thought my same-sex desires were something I could control and eliminate. Little did I know that in the coming months I would be forced to face my inconvenient truth: I eventually had to reconcile my contradictory beliefs with my heart. I gave love a try, and for seven years we loved in secrecy. Many of our friendships suffered because of the fear, and we began to feel the pain of being unable to celebrate our love and be supported just as those around us.
Engagement after engagement, wedding after wedding, birth after birth, we were by our friends' sides. We gave our hearts to them but were afraid that it would never be reciprocated. It was painful, but we would later learn it was an irrational fear. Deondray: Disillusioned with the lack of people of color in LGBT media and growing tired of the media witch hunt for African-American gay, bi, and questioning men, otherwise known as "the down low," we created an indie anthology series called The DL Chronicles that explored the lives of men of color who lived double lives.
The ironic thing was that we were still closeted at the time. It was very conflicting to be so impassioned about an issue and be advocating for authenticity, yet still remain in the proverbial closet. We decided as a unit that when our short film "came out" at its first film festival, we would "come out" with it. We had embraced our truth and in a very public arena and had become accidental activists.
