Well I woke up on the sofa in my best mate's student house after crying myself to sleep and replaying the previous night over and over in my head trying to work out what I did wrong and how I could have misjudged the situation so badly. I started thinking about the expectations my family had had for me and how disappointed they must be that I had shattered their dreams of what I would be. After hanging out with my best mate while he tried to make me feel better and see I wasn't the one at fault I drove on down to see my then girlfriend who from what I remember, was working till late. I arrived at her house where her landladies answered the door and could clearly see I was in a state. I spent the next couple of hours receiving hugs and talking through the events of the previous night and after enraging "Emily" to the point she wanted to go and treat my family as they had treated me we discussed the possibility that my family would calm down and begin to understand.
I don't remember much of the next few days other than it involved me crying a lot and stressing about my masters coursework. I do however, remember going back to my parents house after being away and having no contact for almost a week. I was running out of clean clothes and needed my uni books so I text my mum to ask permission (yes I felt I needed to ask permission to go home) to collect some stuff and potentially stay for a while to talk stuff over. My mum agreed and I drove the 90mins home to find my dad in the kitchen but no sign of my mum. When I asked where she was he said "on her way back" he was superficially nice and pleaded that I was making the biggest mistake of my life. I defaulted to my teenage response to family arguments and said nothing.
Mum arrived back around this time and I suddenly understood why my dad had been shifty with me. My mum walked into the kitchen telling me how I had shattered her world and how she would not do that to my grandparents. She promptly ushered my grandparents, (both in their 70s) into the kitchen and stood with her hands on her hips shouting at me to tell them my news. Fighting back tears I told my grandparents that I was in a relationship with a woman and watched as my grandma looked at me with disappointment and my grandad turned away. After watching me sqirm my mum took my grandparents home with the parting shot of, wait their we have things to talk about.
She returned 10mins later and threw herself into a rant about how having relationships with women meant that I would never work with children (a life long ambition of mine), how I would be constantly persicuted, never have children and that this was the worst "choice of lifestyle" I could have made. My dad went on to explain that in his 30 years in business he had never once met a gay person. (hmmmm) He also went on to explain how most people tollerate gays but started quoting "NIMBY"... yeah it was new to me too... Not In My Back Yard. Apparently gays are ok at a distance but not if they live next door or are part of your family. I was determined not to show how much I hurt or to cry and from what I remember I stayed strong and never shed one tear. My mum then went on to tell me the intricate details of her depression and the desperate situation she had found herself in when her and my dad were going though a rough patch and pleaded with me that this was the worst thing I could have done. "Was worse than telling her that I was pregnant", I refused to break down and the "discussion" ended with me being pinned to a wall by my jumper by my dad and being told how much what I was doing was hurting and killing my mum.
I quickly packed my bags once again, grabbed a sleeping bag and my uni books and headed back to my best mates sofa for another restless night of replaying things over in my head.
20 December 2011
19 December 2011
Where it all began.....
Ok, so I started this blog on the advise of a friend who felt that telling my story may not only give me a space to vent about what has happened over the last few years but also may help someone else in a similar situation so here I am writing my first entry on this blog.
I knew I was different from an early age and was bullied on and off for pretty much the whole of my primary and secondary education but this is not a sob story about that it is my take on telling my family something I could never take back and something that changed my relationship with them forever. At college I met some of my first REAL friends and at aged 16 I discovered that a social life and friendship was FAR more interesting than study, (which I regretted age 18 when I picked up my A-Level results). In those 2 years I also struggled to overcome depression, self-harm, and came to understand that the reason I always wanted a particular girl in my class to be my BEST friend was not only for someone to talk to and share the good times but because I wanted some of them to be more than just my friends.
After a holiday fling before I set out to uni, I spent the next three years trying to convince myself that I could pull off the "expected" lifestyle and not have to disappoint my family by telling them who I really was. I managed it for a while and had a nice enough time with the guys I dated who were great mates but there was always something in the back of my mine telling me that something wasn't quite how it should be. It was only after a holiday with a friend just before graduation where I met a girl in a bar and we both clicked that I realised I'd been fooling myself for too long. I went home full of the joys of my holiday romance and the new found confidence in my long hidden identity and decided to finally come out to my family. For the sake of not spoiling a special day I kept my secret till after my graduation ceremony and the family meal that followed and a few days later after feeling sick all day and waiting till the final possible moment before my parents went to bed I finally spat it out.
My exact words were, "well you know when I was on holiday? Well I met someone and, well she's a woman, and I wanted you to know".
Well that sparked a whole catalogue of drama, my mum ran to the toilet and was physically sick, my dad shouted up in my face and once my mum had recovered proceeded to pin me by my throat against the wall and shout about how rediculous I was.
I had been brought up to treat people as I hoped to be treated, I had a singing teacher who was openly gay, my mum had friends from college who were a lesbian couple, my family knew my closest friend was a gay man, homosexuality was nothing new! To say I was shocked by the response I recieved is an understatement and as the ranting continued I made the decision to up and leave my parents house and seek refuge at my best friend's student house while I let them digest the bombshell. Driving through sobbs, hyperventling and shaking I was welcomed by the greatest guy in the world with a bottle of wine, a pizza and a huge hug. Little did I know this was not the worst day of this whole saga and acceptance was a long way off.
I knew I was different from an early age and was bullied on and off for pretty much the whole of my primary and secondary education but this is not a sob story about that it is my take on telling my family something I could never take back and something that changed my relationship with them forever. At college I met some of my first REAL friends and at aged 16 I discovered that a social life and friendship was FAR more interesting than study, (which I regretted age 18 when I picked up my A-Level results). In those 2 years I also struggled to overcome depression, self-harm, and came to understand that the reason I always wanted a particular girl in my class to be my BEST friend was not only for someone to talk to and share the good times but because I wanted some of them to be more than just my friends.
After a holiday fling before I set out to uni, I spent the next three years trying to convince myself that I could pull off the "expected" lifestyle and not have to disappoint my family by telling them who I really was. I managed it for a while and had a nice enough time with the guys I dated who were great mates but there was always something in the back of my mine telling me that something wasn't quite how it should be. It was only after a holiday with a friend just before graduation where I met a girl in a bar and we both clicked that I realised I'd been fooling myself for too long. I went home full of the joys of my holiday romance and the new found confidence in my long hidden identity and decided to finally come out to my family. For the sake of not spoiling a special day I kept my secret till after my graduation ceremony and the family meal that followed and a few days later after feeling sick all day and waiting till the final possible moment before my parents went to bed I finally spat it out.
My exact words were, "well you know when I was on holiday? Well I met someone and, well she's a woman, and I wanted you to know".
Well that sparked a whole catalogue of drama, my mum ran to the toilet and was physically sick, my dad shouted up in my face and once my mum had recovered proceeded to pin me by my throat against the wall and shout about how rediculous I was.
I had been brought up to treat people as I hoped to be treated, I had a singing teacher who was openly gay, my mum had friends from college who were a lesbian couple, my family knew my closest friend was a gay man, homosexuality was nothing new! To say I was shocked by the response I recieved is an understatement and as the ranting continued I made the decision to up and leave my parents house and seek refuge at my best friend's student house while I let them digest the bombshell. Driving through sobbs, hyperventling and shaking I was welcomed by the greatest guy in the world with a bottle of wine, a pizza and a huge hug. Little did I know this was not the worst day of this whole saga and acceptance was a long way off.
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