From Panic to Empowerment: Fixing My Overheated Car as a Gay Man - Gay DIY Car Repair

Watch the video above to see me, Upton Rand, take on my 2009 Toyota Corolla’s radiator disaster—saving $700 and proving anyone can fix their car with some YouTube grit. It’s got the whole saga: the coolant-soaked breakdown, the sweaty repair, and that sweet test drive victory. Below, I’ll break down how I went from panic to power, and why this matters for every gay guy who’s ever felt counted out.

It all started when my car felt off the second I turned the key. I’d barely gone a block before hearing this faint growling sound—nothing crazy, just… wrong. It was early April in northern Ohio, chilly enough that I craved some heat. But when I flipped on the heater, cold air blasted out. Weird as fuck, right? Then I glanced at the temperature gauge: the needle was screaming toward red.

I pulled over on the highway, heart pounding, and popped the hood. My Corolla had barfed neon-green coolant everywhere—like Santa’s elves had a diarrhea meltdown under there. Panic hit hard; I was maybe two seconds from a full-blown anxiety spiral. Looking back, I should’ve known trouble was brewing. For weeks, I’d caught this subtle, sweet coolant smell in the cabin, but like a dumbass, I shrugged it off.

I’ve always been a magnet for car drama. This 2009 Corolla—pretty much a fossil—has tested me plenty. I’m religious about roadside assistance, and trust me, it’s paid for itself 10 to 20 times over. Locked keys inside? Done it. Dead battery from leaving lights on? Guilty. Tows? Too many to count. So, standing there, coolant dripping, my gut said, Call roadside assistance.

But then came the kicker: Where do I tow it? Which mechanic? My brain spiraled—walk into a shop, and they’ll hear me talk or see me move and think, “This gay guy’s clueless—cha-ching.” If you’re reading this, you’ve probably felt that vibe too. It’s a shitty stereotype, but the fear of getting screwed over? Real as hell.

I filed the claim and froze my ass off for two hours waiting for the tow truck. About 90 minutes in, my friend Jim rolled up like a damn saint, handing me hot coffee that saved my soul for the last half-hour. He even drove me home. I’d left the house without a sweatshirt—stupid move, since my job cutting steel and grinding metal usually has me drenched in sweat. But there I was, shivering, staring at my broken-down car, hating how helpless I felt.

That’s when it clicked. Yeah, I didn’t grow up wrenching on cars. But I didn’t grow up knowing how to run a business either, and here I am doing that. Why not learn this? What’s the worst that could happen—besides blowing cash I don’t have? I’d messed with small repairs before, just YouTube basics. This looked rough—like big mechanic bill rough—but it was a shot to prove something. One more checkmark on my list of “stuff they say gay men can’t do, but I did.”

So, I dove in. I figured I wasn't going to break it- after all, it was already broke!! Lmao That began my Gay DIY Car repair adventure!

Looking tough as I do the repair LMAO

What Went Down

The video up top shows the whole grind, but here’s the quick version. I binged YouTube tutorials—probably 50 of ‘em—to figure out what a radiator even does. Spoiler: it keeps your car from cooking itself. Who knew? Not me.

I diagnosed a hole in the radiator and a sketchy thermostat. First step: drain the coolant. Total mess—neon-green puddles galore. Then I wrestled off a hose clamped on like it was welded. Pliers, sweat, and a lot of cursing later, I got it free. Slapping on a new hose felt like forcing a square peg into a round hole, but I made it happen. Next, I swapped the radiator—way heavier than it looks—and refilled the coolant, mixing it just right. Bleeding the system to clear air pockets was slow as hell, like watching paint dry with extra swearing. It was a gauntlet. Dropped tools, skinned knuckles, and enough cussing to clear the birds out of Ohio. But every win—bolts tightening, engine humming—felt like a fist bump from the universe. Check the video for the raw chaos and payoff.

The hole I finally discovered and repaired in my radiator. I still don't know how it happened.

The Payoff and Lessons Learned About Gay DIY Car Repair

When I took that test drive (you’ll see it at 4:47 in the video), I didn’t yell “I did it!” like some cheesy movie. I just sat there, engine purring, feeling this quiet awe. I’d tackled something gnarly, and damn, it hit deep. It wasn’t just about the car—it was knowing I could do this. For too long, I’d bought the lie that gay guys aren’t “handy.” Screw that. We can be fierce and fix shit, thank you very much.

So, what’s your “fix the car” moment? That thing you crushed despite the doubts? Drop it in the comments—I’m dying to hear. And take it from me: you’re tougher and more capable than you think.

Want more stories like this? Hit up gaymensfieldguide.com for weekly bilingual posts on living bold. Grab my books on our store. And if you’re pumped, share the video—it’s proof anyone can wrench with YouTube’s help. I guess my point is, don't be afraird, your cars already broke. You can do this, have faith in yourself. If you don't- have fait in youtube and AI at least. This is very achievable no matter what the repair.

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