Stories

The Things You Tell Us

Mark

Before Coming Out, I was very good at Staying In.

Like a lot of children growing up in the 70s and 80s, I watched all of those cheesy British comedies, 'Are You Being Served', 'Some Mothers Do 'Ave 'Em' (!), 'The Dick Emery Show' and so on. They weren't very imaginative, I know, but I loved them and I still have a soft spot for them. I guess the vaudeville roots of that sort of comedy meant that a lot of the characters were heavily drawn upon clichés; the Saucy Wench, the Dragon Mother-in-Law, the Fairy. I watched and laughed at these characters, but more importantly, I saw the reactions of my family. It wasn't disgust or hatred, it was contempt and ridicule. I got the message.

School was much more of the same. I wish I could say that I was an independent thinking child with a strong grasp of right and wrong and a deep insight into the workings of the world. But I wasn't. I was a quiet, shy little kid, who wanted to be like the rest. Not much to ask, but I was terrified of the playground finding out that I may not really be like them at all.

I carried this internal drama with me well into adulthood. It was a pattern that was hard not to repeat, a habit impossible to break.

There were times, of course, when my feelings came close to the surface. Dreams that emphasized ties with men, a morbid interest in Montgomery Clift, and I remember when The Smiths' "This Charming Man" came out. How could I not respond to that? I can see why these things appealed to me, but I would justify my interest in all sorts of ways but never this one important one; they spoke to me of my attraction to men.

I lived with my childhood sweetheart in apparent hetero-harmony for many years. I was happy in many ways. We were, and still are, very close. But it became increasingly difficult to suppress those feelings I experienced when a guy brushed past me in the street, or when I started to look upon my straight acquaintances with puppy-like admiration. I put a lot of energy and emotion in keeping this to myself, of 'Staying In'. I was quite good at it.

It couldn't go on forever. Our relationship broke down and we parted, amicably. Then there was a period, years as it turned out, of sorting things out. It was hard to admit to myself that I was gay, harder still to tell those around me. How could I have kept it to myself all those years? Was I being deceitful? Did it mean everything I felt for others up until now was false? What was I afraid of?

I was very much alone on this one. I didn't talk to anyone about it. It would have been better, I know, if I had, but that's the way it had to be at the time. I read. I learnt how to cope with my thoughts and feelings through the words of others. But that wasn't enough. I needed contact with real people. I had to take that extra step and that's when I came across Bfriend.

Bfriend was the catalyst I needed to push me to release my suppressed feelings.

I told my ex-girlfriend. She was unconditionally supportive. I told my parents. My mother, characteristically, chuckled and said "oh, the things you tell us", as if I'd told her a saucy joke, and my father didn't say much at all. He later sent me a letter, which moves me to tears just thinking about it, saying that he was disappointed that I felt I couldn't tell them before, but that he and my mother both loved me, and who I chose to love made no difference to them.

After years of grinding soul-searching, I opened my mouth and my heart and the burden of silence was lifted. I wasn't so good at 'Staying In' anymore.

And I've never looked back.

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