Saturday, 28 November 2009

Coming out

I got way too drunk for my own good last night. I ended up getting wasted on a couple of bottles of wine, removing various items of clothes and then dancing and singing to old reggae songs. It wasn't my finest hour, but I had fun anyway. Paid for it this morning though when I woke up and vommed. Bad times. I woke up to 4 very lovely texts from Jay. He was drunk, but it obviously loosened him up a bit because he was being such a sweetheart. I thought he would go all shy and deny them this morning but he was cool about it and said he meant the things he was saying. Bless!

Anyways, there is a point to today's post. I was chatting with a guy yesterday (you should all check out his blog HERE) and I promised him that I would right my coming out story. And so this is it....

I will try and keep it short and sweet.

I was 15 when I cam out to my mother. I had known all my life that I was gay and it was never one of those things I suddenly had to come to terms with, I just always knew and accepted it. I come from a family made up mainly of men. I have 4 older brothers and so I kinda had a lot to live upto in terms of following them into sports and 'man stuff'. My dad skipped out on us when I was 2 and so I never really bothered with him much, and my mum was both parents and my main role model, and we have always been amazingly close. I would say she is like a best friend to me.

Anyways, I probably would have come out when I was about 13 had it not been for the fact I felt I was letting my brothers down. I had had sexual encounters with guys and knew that that was what I was into, but I always kept it as my secret. One night when I was about 14, me and a friend got drunk on a bottle of whiskey we found at her house. I remember for some reason admitting to her that I was gay. She didn't believe me at first, but then I started telling her some stuff about what I had done and she was soon convinced. I remember how free I felt, telling my best friend and having her not give a damn in the slightest. Once I sobered up the following morning though I was mortified and immediately rung her to say it was only meant to be a joke and I couldnt believe she fell for it. She was having none of it though, and my secret was out for good.

Everything was fine for a few months, I used to confide my stories in her, and she always kept them to herself. We used to go around in group, as kids do, of about 15 or 20 of us. We used to hang around the park or whatever, not causing mischief, just being teens. Anyways, this guy started hanging around with us called David. He was a few years older, as camp as tits and a screaming homosexual. I became fascinated with him for being so out there. Every guy I had ever been with was sharing my closet, so to meet and befriend someone so open with their sexuality was refreshing.

One night we were walking home, just David and I, and we were talking about random stuff when he asked me if I had ever kissed a guy. I lied and said no, and he asked me if I wanted to try it. I said yes, probably a little too eagerly, what with my hormones kicking in, and we stood there in the middle of the street making out. I didnt find him attractive. It wasnt a sex thing at all. To ask me now, I have no idea why I kissed him, but I was 15 and horny I guess, so I did. i went home and thought nothing more of it.

Now, most people come out. I think I was dragged out kicking and screaming. A few days after our kiss, David had told everyone. It's one thing keeping a secret from friends, but I wasnt willing to lie, so when questioned (see: Spanish Inquisition) I admitted that his story was true. Some of the guys didnt believe it at first, others thought it was hysterical, but despite the barrage of questions, not a single one of them said anything negative about it. I realised then how great my friends are, and how much I love and value each and every one.

I knew that with so many people knowing, and living in such a small town as I did, that it wouldnt be long until the rumours would get back to my mum, and I knew I would have to tell her. I left it a couple of days, but I thought I owed her the respect to hear it from me and not someone else.

On the day I decided to tell her, things were pretty shitty. I had had a crap day at school, had rowed with my mother the night before, and was generally just nervous as hell. In what was probably the least smart move of my life up to that point, I managed to get myself a flagon of cider and got wasted before going home that evening. I had two of my friends on standby incase things got ugly, and I went home intent that I wouldnt leave again until my mum knew everything. What I had forgotten however, was that my mum was having a dinner party that evening, that I was supposed to be there for. Her, me, and 8 guests. I genuinly had forgotten, but she thought I missed it on purpose because of our arguement the night before.

As soon as I got through the door she knew I was drunk. She gave me that look that only a mother can give and I knew things werent going to go smoothly. She calmly told me to sit down at the table, but then changed her mind and told me to get upstairs. I have never seen her look so embarrassed. I was falling about everywhere and mumbling rubbish to myself. In the end she lost it a bit and started raising her voice. I started storming up the stairs, banging each step as I went. I heard her shout something to me about being grounded and without even registering what was going on, I stood at the top of the stairs, in full view of everyone and screamed

"You just hate me because I'm gaaaaaaaaaaaaaay"

I barely managed to register her expression before tripping over my own foot and falling down the stairs and passing out drunk against the door. The next thing I remember was being propped against the sofa with my mum staring at me. Everyone had left except for Susan, my mums best friend and I could tell they were waiting for answers. I didnt really know what to say so I started giggling to myself.

From there on out, it all got a bit horrible. My mother gave me the 'I will always love you, but...' speech and I lost it. My mum, the person I was closest to in the whole world, wasnt scooping me in her arms and telling me that everything was going to be alright. We ended up having a blazing arguement and I told her I was leaving. I phoned up my friend and stayed at hers. It was January 11th 2001 and I remember walking through the snow, drunk and crying my eyes out. I cried my eyes out all night.

The following day I went back to my mums and spoke to her soberly. She told me that she wasnt annoyed with me that I was gay, but that I put her in a very awkward situation by telling her in front of everyone else and just expecting her to deal with it, which years later makes more sense than it did then. Things were a bit odd between us for a while. Neither of us knew what to say to the other, and the subject was never raised again until about 3 years later. I spent that whole time thinking that it was because my mother was in denial about it, but when it was brought up again, and I questioned her about it, she told me that it was never an issue for her, so she never felt the need to bring it up for no reason, and sinse I never raised the subject, she thought I didnt want to talk about it. I think sometimes it is easier to just to be open about things and that way wires can't get cross.

I am happy to say that in the end everything worked out brilliantly. Me and my mother are closer than we ever have been and me being gay means nothing more than my eyes being blue. Its a part of who I am, not the whole of who I am.

I suppose the only thing more daunting than telling my mum was having the rugby boys find out. In a very heterosexual sport I thought I would be thrown off the team, but that also went really well. My first day back at training after everyone found out was one of the scariest things of my life. I needn't have worried though. Every single guy on the team was fine about it and when I got to the changing room they had taped the soap to the wall with duct tape and written in shaving foam 'nobody bends over for the soap unless Ryan wins us the game this weekend'. They then continued to wind me up for, well, they still havent stopped.


  1. That was a really cool story. I especially like the bit about the soap.

    Glad you and your mum are all good, I wish I could say the same.


  2. Thanks for sharing your story. Glad things turn out in the end...Think your story is a inspiration to others that haven't came out or in the process of it. I did check out that other blog ... thanks for pointing us to him.... lol don't stress your head to much after last night ... lol oh the toliet gods ( have pray a lot to them myself) Peace Lee

  3. Thanks for your story. I'd share mine but it's fairly strictly reserved for the bbok I'm writing. Just glad that it all worked out in the end.

    Old Midhurstian

  4. very cute. Love the coming out story, especially the fall down the stairs. ouch. Also loved the soap thing... very cute. I wish I had come to terms about my sexuality earlier in life (like you did) and not had a veil of denial for so long.

  5. Thanks a lot for sharing.
    I'm still in the process of making my coming out story successful... We'll see.
    I'm glad everything turned out well with your mum. What about your brothers?

  6. My brothers are fine with it too. I think they would prefer me to be straight, but they are happy with my choices. I am the youngest, so they are all very protective over me.

  7. Hah. That's great. My friends out here are the same way as your rugby buddies.

    This exchange happened at work, via IM:

    Me: Hey, want to grab lunch?
    Friend: No, meetings until 12:30.
    Me: My calendar's wide open. :-)
    Friend: You suck!
    Me: Yes, I sometimes do. :-D
    (a few moments later)
    Friend: Okay, you win, I'll free up and we'll do lunch...

    It's quite fun, actually. :-)