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.

Homophobia Top Trumps

He isn't particularly famous in Britain, but the ripples from Adam Lambert's gay kiss have reached far and wide. It seems to be a subject that has everyone divided. Talking with friends, both gay and straight, I was a bit shocked that it was mostly the gay ones who were complaining about it.

ABC has reportedly received nearly 2000 complaints. Hardly a blip on the radar compared to the half a million complaints received when Janet Jackson got her tit out at the Super Bowl, but enough to warrant the cancellation of Lambert's appearance on Good Morning America, over fears he may make a repeat performance. But is he really that stupid, or does the network just want to disassociate itself with such up front homosexuality?

However ill thought out his actions were, they were done in front of a largely adult audience, at an awards show that was shown in the evening. Whether it was premeditated or not, and despite its bad taste, no laws, either of legality or decency, were broken, so to assume that he would try and do the same thing in a prime time morning slot raises a lot of questions as to if that is the real reason behind his performance axing.

Despite what Lambert probably thought was a tongue in cheek way of bringing homosexuality into the mainstream, I can't help but thinking that he has probably set the whole thing back quite a bit, awaking the dormant homophobia in people who would otherwise not thought twice about watching a gay performer.

The issue with the subject that my friends seemed to have, was not the fact that he was gay, but the fact that what he did was unnecessary and uncomfortable to watch. Nothing to do with him being gay, but being an idiot. When questioned about whether or not they would feel the same if he were straight, the result was an overwhelming yes, with people like Lady Gaga and her bizarre on stage antics being given as an example of some more uncomfortable viewing.

It is all too easy for people to start throwing in the homophobia card, now that a gay person is facing a backlash over their antics, but when all is said and done, I think the majority of people were just uncomfortable with having to view it, just as I am sure they would have been if it were a straight artist up on stage simulating oral sex. That is not to say that a number of the complainants do not have homophobic motives, but on the whole, I think it has just been seen as bad taste.

Regardless of the backlash, Lambert has gotten his desired publicity, and his name is now in the minds of a lot more people than it was before. This, like so many other controversies before it, will be quickly forgotten, and if he can ride out the storm for the next few weeks, he will probably come out of it a lot better off in album sales.

Working Up A Sweat

I was up at 6 this morning. I am most mornings to be honest, but for the last few days I have been sleeping in really late until about 10am. Anyway, I got up, showered and strolled off to the gym. By stroll, I mean drove obviously.

The gym that I go too is quite nice. It’s cheap, but it has everything that I need, so I dont see the point in paying over the odds for the sake of going to a posher gym.

The people there are really relaxed, which I like. It isnt full of people walking around with their tops off, not actually working out, just wanting people to look at them, and one of the reasons I like it so much is because as many of you know, a lot of people, specifically gay men I would say, use the gym as a pick up joint. The gym I go too however, is primarily used for working out, which is why I changed from my old gym to that one.

As with anywhere you spend a lot of time, you get to know people, and recognise new faces easily, and over the last few weeks I have come to notice two new people in particular. I assume, though don’t know for sure, that they are a couple. In the changing rooms they are all over each other, and I am sure I walked in on them getting it on one time, though I wasnt paying too much attention so I couldnt say for sure.

The thing is though, as into each other as they seem to be, they are also quite openly checking everyone else out too. I have seen them at the gym maybe ten times in the last 3 weeks, but of all those times, I have seen them actually using the machines maybe a total of twice. The rest of the time they just seem to stay in the changing rooms.

Now don’t get me wrong, I am by no means a prude, but surely there is a time and a place. I have been going to various gyms for years, and I have seen a lot of goings on, but the flirting and staring and occasional sexy shenanigans usually happen when people have actually used the gym, rather than just going there for the pick up. These two guys blatently sit there and stare at people getting changed or showering and more than once I have heard them making comments about mens dicks, to guys I know who are straight and wouldnt appreciate it.

Writing this I feel like a grumpy old man. I am all for a bit of fun and flirting and messing around, but these guys are giving the place a bad rep, and I know there has been complaints. Most of the guys who use the gym are straight, and though they know I am not, that has never been an issue. What concerns me is that the few gay people who do use the place, myself included, will get tarnished with the same brush.

Is it so important to pick guys up/ spice up your sex life etc, that you would go to the effort of signing up and paying for the gym, only to use it for what is as good as cottaging? This is Manchester. For those of you who haven’t been here, or are unfamiliar with the place, it is like a gay mecca. It is where the original Queer as Folk was set, has nearly 100 gay bars and clubs, and countless saunas, sex shops, fetich clubs and pick up joints, so why do this at the gym? This isn’t a case of two people meeting at the gym and getting it on, it is two people going to the gym to hunt for sex.

Maybe I am just out of the loop on things. Is this normal? Am I just being a moody old arse? Part of me thinks I should live and let live, but the other part of me thinks that I should be able to go to the gym and get changed or take a piss without being perved on. I am more than aware that in those situations there are always stolen glances. I have done it myself, but there is a massive difference, surely?

I am interested to hear what other people think of this. Do you think I am being overly picky, or should it be kept for places more relevent?

.....I Went Back

A couple of days ago I told about the dilemma I was having, deciding whether to or not to let things progress with a guy who did me over in the past. This is the post in question.

Anyways, After writing it all out and going over it, listening to what others said and thinking harder about what I wanted, I decided to drop him a text and arranged to meet up with him tonight once he finished work. We were going to do what was planned for yesterday, food and drinks, but in the end we got on a tram and just went straight back to his.

The atmosphere between us was fine and we were laughing and talking and flirting, but when he tried to kiss me a pulled away and told him that we needed to talk. I explained to him my reservations about the situation and told him I wanted him to talk to me about stuff. To most of you that would probably seem like an ordinary request, but he is very much a man of few words, only ever saying the words that need to be spoken, and keeping his emotions and feelings to a minimum. It took a while to get him to open up, but in the end we had a really good discussion and the air between us was cleared.

Once all that was out of the way we got down to the good stuff. No not sex you dirty bastards. We played World Of Warcraft...... Then we had sex afterwards. This time though it was different. It wasnt frenzied like it normally was, but it was slow and passionate and he was more affectionate and passionate than I had ever known him to be.

He asked me to stay the night, but I couldnt. I wasn't making excuses, I really had to leave, but I genuinly wanted to stay. I could have stayed curled up in that bed with him all night. We have however, made plans for this coming Wednesday, and Sunday.

Letting go of 'rules' I have lived by for a long time isn't easy, but what it definately is, is liberating. Part of me feels like I am rebelling against myself, but I feel like I am doing the right thing. Someone said to me the other day that you should regret the things you do, not the things you don't, and I have a feeling that I won't be regretting this.

One is very happy :D

Why Weight?

I like to think that I follow my own rules and conventions. Unlike most of my friends, both gay and straight, I dont strive to conform to fit in any boxes set by society. I find it hard enough being comfortable in my own skin, without the added pressure of living up to everyone else's expectations as well. Lately however, I have been feeling an enormous pressure to lose weight. In the gay community (at least where I live), there has been an 'Attack Of The Clones' where everyone seems to look 15 years old with a barely there waistline and a perma tan.

Don't get me wrong, I am by no means overweight. I have a 34" waist, I am 6ft5" tall and I weigh a little under 15st. I play rugby and I am at the gym at least 3 times a week. I have a pretty healthy lifestyle and in general I dont look too shabby. I have an individual style and I make the most of what I have, but the more I go out and see these 'clones', the more I feel like the odd one out, and if truth be told, it is starting to feel uncomfortable.

It is an age old tale that within the gay community you have a limited shelf life. So many people feel like they are over it or past it by the time they hit 25, and the ones who don't seem to be doing everything in their power to look like 18 year olds again. When I have spoken to friends about this, they have told me that it is a minority, but after a little digging it seems that male anorexia is predominantly made up of gay men, and it is also on the rise. Is it really worth risking your health to fit in and look the part?

The fault, I believe, lies within the gay community itself. While they sit and argue that they should not be put in boxes by the community at large, they are all too quick to label and catagorise themselves. Is it ok to just be gay anymore? Do we have to be a twink, a scally a bear or a queen? And if we do, where do I fit in? I am too old and not skinny enough to be a twink. Not camp enough to be a queen. Too well behaved and dressed to be a scally, and not big and hairy enough to be a bear. Is there a place for me if I refuse to put myself in a box?

The problem is, whether we like it or not, we all conform in the end. We don't have to like it, but it happens anyway. I started this post thinking about how I needed to lose weight, not for health reasons, but so that I could feel more like I was part of the crowd, and the more I write, the more I realise that if I become more like everyone else, I become less like myself. The world strives on diversity. I have never been short of attention from men, and by looking like everyone else, what will I have that is different to interest anyone anymore?

Is suppose in the end it all comes down to being comfortable with yourself. If you strive to look a certain way to make yourself feel better then you should go for it as long as it doesnt affect your health. But if you are trying to look a certain way just to fit in, maybe you need to sit back and think about whether or not it will make you happy. At the end of the day, we all want people to like us for who we are, not how we look. My mum always told me you need to love yourself before anyone else can love you, and I think shes right. Maybe I will give the gym a miss today.

Heading For Queer Hell

I was raised in a Catholic family. We weren't overtly religious, but it was more of a background thing. Nowadays I wouldnt say I was particularly religious, but I have my faith and I am proud of it. Obviously, in the eyes of my religion, I live in sin, but my friends and family don't have an issue with my 'sinning' and so I don't much care about the opinions of others who my life neither touches, nor affects.

This evening I had to run out to the shop for something, and the quickest way to get there without the car was through the city's gay district. Half way through my journey I was stopped by a women who looked to be in her 40's. Anyone who has spent any time on the streets of Manchester knows that you can't go more than a few feet without being stopped by a tramp, charity worker, god botherer etc, but I stopped and spoke to her nonetheless. She asked my what I was doing in the area, so I told her, and then she asked if I was one of 'them gays' to which I said yes.

Now, I am pretty tolerant of people's views and opinions. After all, they are entitled to them, as I am my own, right? Anyway, the woman proceeded to hand me leaflets about the catholic church, with headings such as 'return to the fold' and 'Don't ruin your life with homosexuality', with statements from 'ex gays' who had realised that they didnt need to rebel by being gay anymore etc.

More out of curiosity than politeness, I listened as she told me that I was on the path to hell and that Jesus was willing to accept me back into his heart as soon as I was ready to become 'normal' and admit my sins.

In a strange way I kind of understood where she was coming from. I mean, I don't agree with her views, but I understand why she does. What got me thinking was though, was the number of people out there who preach and feel the need to stick their noses in where it doesnt belong. It was a wierd experience because I have never really come up against any personal religious opposition or homophobia, so to witness someones small mindedness for myself.

What I can't believe is that the catholic church, with all of its history and a magnificent drop in its followers, is still peddling this bullshit to its congregation, who in turn feel the need to peddle this shit on to me. Raising children to be filled with hatred is something no religion should be proud of. I am not from a particularly religious area, so this kind of thing doesnt get seen too often, but it makes me feel for the people who have to put up with listening to this shit on a daily basis. Is this something that has happened to any of you?

As I said, I have my own faith and if there is a heaven, then what with me being made in God's image, and old Jesus dying for my sins, I am pretty sure I will get a room with a view. I didn't choose to be gay, but I wouldnt have it any other way. I happen to really like my life and I am proud of who I am. I know my family is too, and that is all that really matters anyway, right?