Me

nothing to do with my sexuality. Even though I know very well that all my music and performances have a “sexualized” component, inasmuch as I dance with women, move my hips, and enjoy the rhythm, that doesn’t mean it is an expression of my sexuality, regardless of whether I feel attraction for women or for men. When I am onstage, I am always looking for a way to connect with the audience, and if I discover a hip movement or a dance step that people like or get excited about or that gets them going, then I am going to continue doing it. It has to do with the very nature of performance and seducing the audience, which has nothing to do with my personal life.
    When I am onstage, I am working . I do it with dignity. I do it with respect. I do it because I like what I do and because I want other people to like my music and my performances. In countries outside of Latin America, Latin culture has always had a very sexualized connotation, but that sexiness that others seem to perceive is completely normal for those of us who are from that part of the world. The movements of salsa, merengue, and cumbia exist in all our countries.
    Perhaps the moment that encapsulates this whole issue about the rumors and the damage they were causing me was a now infamous interview with Barbara Walters. Renowned for her interviews with some of the most famous and powerful people in the world, she has the unique ability to extract personal details that have never before been revealed. My interview was aired on the night of the Academy Awards, on Sunday, March 26, 2000. At the time I was probably one of the most recognized people in music; and because of all the media promotion I had done for the past four or five years, I was completely overexposed. The album Ricky Martin and the song “Livin’ La Vida Loca” were still selling like hotcakes, and at the time I was also on a world concert tour. The Barbara Walters special was a much-anticipated segment on TV on a night that has one of the largest numbers of viewers all year.
    The interview was conducted in Puerto Rico. After walking a bit on the beach, we sat on a porch for the interview. She asked me questions about my success, my life as a singer, my family, and like the good investigator she is, when I least expected it, she point-blank asked me the question I feared most: She asked me about my sexuality.
    I responded the same way I always answered the question: I told her that this was a private matter, and it was no one else’s business. But instead of accepting my answer and moving along with the interview, she stubbornly continued to dig. To a certain extent I can understand that she was just doing her job, but she pushed me pretty hard, maybe thinking that she would be able to get some kind of on-air confession from me for the show. I don’t know. But the fact is, I didn’t give her what she wanted.
    I stayed firm with my answers—as much as possible—but I remember that my vision went blurry and my heart started to race. I felt like a boxer who had just been hit with a decisive punch—staggering and defensive, but already knocked out, waiting to fall. But I did not fall. I don’t know how I did it, but I stayed strong. Now, as I write this, I laugh, and I’m not sure if it’s a nervous laughter or if it is that with a bit of distance I am amused by the sheer ridiculousness of the whole situation. The fact is, all I can do is laugh.
    Years later, Barbara admitted that perhaps she should not have asked me that question and regretted having done so. Even though the past is the past, I greatly appreciated the gesture, because it means a lot to me that she understands that I simply wasn’t ready. Even though all the rumors were out there, things were still not clear in my mind, and coming out of the closet simply wasn’t an option. The external pressure only served to increase my angst, and instead of bringing me closer to my moment—the day when I would feel comfortable to reveal my truth to the world—it distanced me even more. Every episode such as this made me bury my feelings deeper, in an attempt to continue to drown out my pain.
    Today I think about how easy it would have been to say yes, and feel proud of who I am. Even though I never really lied, I did dodge the question, and I was very clumsy about it. Now I see that it was so simple, that I was drowning myself in a glass of water, but back then I did not see or live through it that way. It doesn’t matter