My coming out ‘story’ is pretty unremarkable besides the fact I took forever and a day to actually get there. There was no real drama, no histrionics. Nothing at all. Only my own naiveté. It certainly wasn’t as I had expected.
As I have discussed in a previous article, I struggled with my sexuality in my teens. Mainly because I was bullied quite a lot with the most common thread for the horrible behaviour being because I was apparently gay or queer. I was reminded this on a frequent basis and was on occasion physically attacked because of their perception of me being homosexual. The big struggle came from the fact that I genuinely believed that I wasn’t gay. I wouldn’t even say it was just denial on my part. I look back at it and remember clearly being confused and dumbfounded as to why people thought I was gay. Clearly, those around me seemed to know something I didn’t… yet.
I was a late developer and if I am honest, I don’t think I genuinely developed any stirrings either way for others until I was nearly finished at secondary school. That isn’t to say that I didn’t have ‘relationships’. I did. I had a few girlfriends throughout my time at school but I think that was born of the notion that it was what was expected of me. Or at least what I believed what was expected of me.
I would like to point out there is no point that I can recall where my parents had said or even implied that I should have a girlfriend. Nor had they ever implied that I had to do certain sports or dress in certain ways because that is what is expected of a male. Any expectations that my parents had were for me to work hard, behave myself and be happy. My parents have always stuck rigidly to the message that they just want me to be happy. To this day, even if they fundamentally disagree with a choice I might make, they still stick to the message that it doesn’t matter, as long as I am happy. No, my belief that I had to behave and live in a certain way came from the rest of the world around me and the way in which I saw what was deemed normal. Especially being bullied, I had built up a picture of what it was to fit in and be ‘normal’. What would have probably been a more sensible route would have been to actually listen to my parents and ignore the rest of the world but then, what teenage boy truly listens to his parents?
Like I say, I was a bit late to the game in terms of any kind of sexual awakening but as I neared the end of secondary school and what I believed would be a major step for me getting away from the bullies, I did also start to experience that yearning for others shall we say. In those final few months of school, I had an experience that may not have actually made me realise that I was gay, but it certainly opened the door to the awareness that I might be. At the time I just thought it was us, lads, messing around but I did have this tiny feeling that it might have been more.
In addition, I remember a particular birthday party for a family friend where I met two people who were just a few years older than me. Rob and Lindsey were very good friends together, who like me, loved to bust out the dance moves on a dancefloor, especially when it came to Steps. Thankfully, they let me into their world for the night and I remember talking to them outside and I think it was that night, I discovered that Rob was gay. (We actually remained friends after that party so it may have been on another occasion that I found out). I think Rob was definitely the first person that I knew, who was gay and he seemed perfectly happy and was definitely not a victim like I thought came with being gay. Looking back on it, I really admired Rob and he became my first guy crush.
Even as I started college, I pushed myself harder against the feeling that I might indeed be gay. I saw what it was to be gay and be victimised for it and I didn’t want that. There was also a small part of me labouring under the misguided illusion that my parents would be mortified, disappointed, that they would hate me and maybe even throw me out of the home. Again, I must stress that at no point had my parents ever intimated anything of the sort. I must make this clear because I in no way want to paint a picture of my parents in anything other than a positive light. My mum was always incredibly open-minded when it came to sexuality and my Dad remained almost silent on the topic. It was never something we discussed. Again, this illusion was totally one I had created myself, possibly through what I had seen on TV. As an aside, part of it probably did come from the fact I was a dramatic little git – and still am. Hey, I studied performing arts people! If anyone was going to have an ultra-melodramatic experience with his parents it was going to be me ha-ha…
The other part of this was made up by the fact that every gay character on TV was a victim. I think every coming out story I had seen on film had come with parents who blew a gasket and kicked the child out in horror. If there wasn't parental horror there was the terror that in those days they all had aids in the damn story somewhere! I had had enough of being bullied and I didn’t want to be the victim anymore.
I continued to have relationships, one with a particular girl, Kerry. I think that was my first proper relationship where I actually did fall in love with someone. I idolised her. I thought, at the time, that she was the one. We even bought each other rings as a sign of our relationship. Obviously, it didn’t work out, but she can always hold claim that she was the only girl I truly loved that wasn't a member of my family.
My thoughts about my sexuality were flip-flopping all over the place! Straight, Gay, Bisexual, I didn’t fully know what was going on and I certainly wasn’t ready to accept I was gay yet, or at least that was what I thought.
I remember one day walking up to the nearby shops with a couple of my course mates, chatting about nothing in particular when out of the blue, one of them outright asked me, ‘so Mark, I have to ask you, are you gay?’ I still remember it like it was yesterday and I still remember my response, almost instantly, ‘Yes, yes I am’. As I have talked about in a previous article, I remember saying the word and feeling two conflicting emotions. Part of me wished I could wish those words back into my mouth and the other part of me felt relief. It was such a huge relief that I could feel myself starting to cry. We talked about it and I admitted that it was the first time I had ever said it out loud.
Once I had digested my own realisation, there was no stopping me, almost. I immediately arranged to meet back up with Lindsey so I could tell her my news. It wasn’t very long after that she took me out, aged 17, to my first night at a gay club (I know, naughty right). I remember Lindsey warning me that as it was my first night and it was one of the only gay venues around, I would be seen as the new guy and would probably get a lot of attention. It was certainly true and I won’t lie, it was pretty cool! I had most definitely found my people. Lindsey also went on to be one of my best and most trusted friends. I could tell her anything at all.
I remember telling one of my best straight guy friends and being terrified of his reaction. Mainly because I often used to sleep at his house and I was afraid he would think I had been eyeing him up or something. When I eventually told him his reaction was one word; “So?” I look back on it now and it is amusing to me. I was so sure that the revelation was going to go down like a lead balloon that when it didn’t happen, I was in a state of shock.
I say that there was almost no stopping me because over the coming months I had become quite comfortable with sharing my finally discovered sexuality with anyone and everyone with just one exception. My family. Those melodramatic fears that I now know were an illusion of my own making, prevented me from telling my parents. I was terrified of their reaction so I kept it a secret for a very long time.
I carried on with life and kept my love life secret from my parents, even to the point of having another girlfriend. I have absolutely no idea why I ever did that because it was a ridiculous and doomed ‘relationship’. I had already admitted to myself and to others around me that I was gay but persisted with that straight relationship. I look back on it and I have absolutely no clue what I was thinking! Temporary insanity perhaps?
Eventually, I moved away from home and that also meant that I no longer had to work quite so hard to keep the secret. It was only at that point that I eventually told my mum. I’ll be honest, I don’t remember when and I don’t remember how it came about but I remember her reaction being one of ‘yeah, I know, I always knew’. I still didn’t tell my dad though.
It wasn’t until I met Marc at age 23 that I could no longer keep the secret. I moved back to Essex after a stint living in Manchester then Wales and then Manchester again when I met Marc. It wasn’t very long after that when we were officially living together back in Essex. Keeping our relationship a secret was no longer an option when my Dad asked if he could come and stay at our flat. Part of that conversation, where we said that of course he could, meant that I had to also explain our living situation.
Strictly speaking, I never used the words ‘I am gay’ to my Dad. I didn’t need to. I had been labouring under some naïve notion that my Dad couldn’t tell that there was more to Marc and I living in the same flat ‘as friends’. My Dad really isn’t that stupid and I feel terrible that I ever thought I could keep it secret like that. I feel terrible that I kept my sexuality secret from my family for as long as I did. I allowed myself to be scared of a reaction rather than just face it and deal with the situation. I was scared of a reaction that may never and in retrospect, would never, come to pass.
Years later, my Dad did say that he didn’t really understand the whole ‘gay’ thing, but to him, it really didn’t matter anyway. He didn’t need to understand. All he cared about was that I was happy. If only I had listened the first time…
Thanks for stopping by and reading. I'd love to read your experiences of coming out too, please feel free to drop them into the comments x
I continued to have relationships, one with a particular girl, Kerry. I think that was my first proper relationship where I actually did fall in love with someone. I idolised her. I thought, at the time, that she was the one. We even bought each other rings as a sign of our relationship. Obviously, it didn’t work out, but she can always hold claim that she was the only girl I truly loved that wasn't a member of my family.
My thoughts about my sexuality were flip-flopping all over the place! Straight, Gay, Bisexual, I didn’t fully know what was going on and I certainly wasn’t ready to accept I was gay yet, or at least that was what I thought.
I remember one day walking up to the nearby shops with a couple of my course mates, chatting about nothing in particular when out of the blue, one of them outright asked me, ‘so Mark, I have to ask you, are you gay?’ I still remember it like it was yesterday and I still remember my response, almost instantly, ‘Yes, yes I am’. As I have talked about in a previous article, I remember saying the word and feeling two conflicting emotions. Part of me wished I could wish those words back into my mouth and the other part of me felt relief. It was such a huge relief that I could feel myself starting to cry. We talked about it and I admitted that it was the first time I had ever said it out loud.
Once I had digested my own realisation, there was no stopping me, almost. I immediately arranged to meet back up with Lindsey so I could tell her my news. It wasn’t very long after that she took me out, aged 17, to my first night at a gay club (I know, naughty right). I remember Lindsey warning me that as it was my first night and it was one of the only gay venues around, I would be seen as the new guy and would probably get a lot of attention. It was certainly true and I won’t lie, it was pretty cool! I had most definitely found my people. Lindsey also went on to be one of my best and most trusted friends. I could tell her anything at all.
I remember telling one of my best straight guy friends and being terrified of his reaction. Mainly because I often used to sleep at his house and I was afraid he would think I had been eyeing him up or something. When I eventually told him his reaction was one word; “So?” I look back on it now and it is amusing to me. I was so sure that the revelation was going to go down like a lead balloon that when it didn’t happen, I was in a state of shock.
I say that there was almost no stopping me because over the coming months I had become quite comfortable with sharing my finally discovered sexuality with anyone and everyone with just one exception. My family. Those melodramatic fears that I now know were an illusion of my own making, prevented me from telling my parents. I was terrified of their reaction so I kept it a secret for a very long time.
I carried on with life and kept my love life secret from my parents, even to the point of having another girlfriend. I have absolutely no idea why I ever did that because it was a ridiculous and doomed ‘relationship’. I had already admitted to myself and to others around me that I was gay but persisted with that straight relationship. I look back on it and I have absolutely no clue what I was thinking! Temporary insanity perhaps?
Eventually, I moved away from home and that also meant that I no longer had to work quite so hard to keep the secret. It was only at that point that I eventually told my mum. I’ll be honest, I don’t remember when and I don’t remember how it came about but I remember her reaction being one of ‘yeah, I know, I always knew’. I still didn’t tell my dad though.
It wasn’t until I met Marc at age 23 that I could no longer keep the secret. I moved back to Essex after a stint living in Manchester then Wales and then Manchester again when I met Marc. It wasn’t very long after that when we were officially living together back in Essex. Keeping our relationship a secret was no longer an option when my Dad asked if he could come and stay at our flat. Part of that conversation, where we said that of course he could, meant that I had to also explain our living situation.
Strictly speaking, I never used the words ‘I am gay’ to my Dad. I didn’t need to. I had been labouring under some naïve notion that my Dad couldn’t tell that there was more to Marc and I living in the same flat ‘as friends’. My Dad really isn’t that stupid and I feel terrible that I ever thought I could keep it secret like that. I feel terrible that I kept my sexuality secret from my family for as long as I did. I allowed myself to be scared of a reaction rather than just face it and deal with the situation. I was scared of a reaction that may never and in retrospect, would never, come to pass.
Years later, my Dad did say that he didn’t really understand the whole ‘gay’ thing, but to him, it really didn’t matter anyway. He didn’t need to understand. All he cared about was that I was happy. If only I had listened the first time…
Thanks for stopping by and reading. I'd love to read your experiences of coming out too, please feel free to drop them into the comments x
Thanks for sharing your experience Marc. It's interesting how fear of how we imagine others will react to a certain situation can be so debilitating...So pleased to hear about your wonderful parents. X
ReplyDeleteIt certainly is debilitating! Thank you for stopping by and reading. I really appreciate it. My parents are the best :-) xxx
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