Chris | 24 | Essex, England | Recruitment Consultant
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I’ve never thought that my story would make good reading and yet my boyfriend has actively persuaded me to write it down, so here it is. I think the best way for me to start is by telling you that I have always known that I am gay, or at least ‘different’ from an early age. I have often questioned why I feel these feelings, but have never doubted the fact that I like men and that this is true to whom I am. One of my earliest memories is begging, at the tender age of five, to play the ‘mum’ in my primary school playground. As a young child I never felt the desire to play the dominant figure, or the stereotypical ‘father’ role that seemed so natural to the other little boys. I aligned myself with the softer and more maternal role as it seemed natural to my very existence. I wasn’t a boisterous boy at all, never was and never will be. I played with dolls and always imaged myself in place of Cinderella, running into the sunset with Prince Charming who would love me unconditionally. I realise that these traits do not a homosexual make, but to me they represent the very roots of my sexuality. My parents, who I love very much, initially and quite naturally tried (or so I’m told) to encourage more masculine hobbies such as football, but gave up when they realised their efforts were wasted. To their ultimate credit my parents let me grow up as I wanted to, I dressed up, played ‘mum’ and received dolls for Christmas. In short I lived a very, very happy childhood and for that I am forever grateful. |
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Alas, this happiness was not to last because as all children realise, Peter Pan did grow up and attended the hellhole that is secondary school. The dolls and dressing-up were gone, but in their place a whole new problem had arisen: my voice and mannerisms. My innocence and naivety had prevented me from realising I spoke like a little girl. I was easily excited and quickly came to realise my wild hand gestures were not appreciated by most of the football-loving-testosterone-filled teenage boys. Up until this point I had never really thought about labelling my sexuality, I was just myself and surely everybody would be ok with that? I wasn’t hurting anybody.
"Needless to say the general boy population started mocking my voice and mannerisms, but most jarringly they kept calling me a strange word - gay."
Night after night I would lie awake in bed questioning their theories and justification for calling me this word. Did I like boys? Yes, I did. Did it upset me? Not really. Was I upset that the boys in my class had realised this revelation before I had? Definitely. That was how it went; I was shocked, calm and then worried; I could live with this fact, but how about my parents? I decided to keep it to myself and begin the adventure on my own.
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It wasn’t until my third year at secondary school at the tender age of 14, when I finally decided to confront my fears and ‘come out’ to my friends. I figured that their reaction would likely mirror that of my parents, as they were not worlds apart in their opinions. I had made a friend at school called Brooke, and she was a wonderful friend; she encouraged my personality and sympathised with my worries and admittedly dropped massive hints that “anything” could be discussed and brought to the table. Alas, on one weekend trip to a shopping centre, I confessed all. I will never forget the moment I walked out of House of Fraser and uttered the words, “You know so and so from school, I think he’s really nice looking.” Brooke simply looked at me, smiled and then said, “I know”. We spent the next few hours gossiping and rating the boys at school, all normal things I had wanted to do for so long. I remember reaching home after an eventful day and receiving a text message from Brooke stating her admiration and support to be there no matter what, she ended the text with words similar to “nothing has changed, you’re still Chris.” With this newfound alliance I gained further confidence and confided in a few other friends, and to their credit they all kept the secret from leaking before I was prepared.
"One final gut-wrenching situation occurred before I ‘came out’ to my parents."
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Early one morning a girl at school rushed up to me and exclaimed “Chris! Have you seen the bus stop near your house? Somebody has spray painted ‘Chris Stubbins is gay’ all over it!” Needless to say I was horrified and felt an instant rise of fear and sadness, this wasn’t how my parents were meant to find out! Tears welled in my eyes. As the final school bell rang throughout the building I ran home crazily towards the bus stop. Upon reaching the bus stop I could see the faint outline of ‘Chris Stubbins is…’ but no ‘gay’. Someone had washed and rubbed the word ‘gay’ off. For the second time that day tears fell down my face, how could people be so cruel? Had my mum and dad seen? I felt so guilty for putting them through this humiliating experience, especially if they had stood at a bus stop to wipe down the obscenity.
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I reached home and nothing was said, life continued on as normal. I have never discussed the bus stop incident with my parents or if they were the ones who rubbed it down. Another year older and I finally met my first boyfriend through a close friend; we were both sixteen and from different schools located close to each other. His name was Danny and I fell helplessly in love with him and his ginger hair. With him I watched films such as ‘A Beautiful Thing’, bought my first ‘Attitude’ magazine from WH Smiths (one of the scariest, thrilling and most liberating moments of my life) and generally discovered the confidence to be myself.
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"With this confidence I decided
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My Dad had found some incriminating evidence in my bag by accident, which I know to be true, so in a way I felt obligated to tell him the full truth and put this mind at rest. It happened one Sunday morning before I was due to leave for a shopping trip with Danny in London. The sun was pouring in the room and my Dad and I were both sitting next to each other on the sofa, it was then that I told him about my sexuality. His response was a calm and warm with carefully chosen words; he told me that I had broken his heart but that he loved me and wanted me to be happy and careful. There was sadness in his eyes, and I do not blame him for that; I think that every parent would want their child to live a conventional life, for security sake. He was scared of a potential life that I could lead that he had no insight to and wanted to protect me. Today, my dad is one of my greatest friends and I have a huge amount of respect and love for him.
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My mum often wears her emotions on her sleeve, so I was extremely worried about telling her. I told her one afternoon after college, again in the safe cocoon of the living room. Her reaction was as expected, she wailed and cried her heart out; she was terrified I would end up lonely and disease ridden. She also cried out of pure relief, relief that I had confirmed what she had expected for years and years before. I soothed her fears and explained to her that not every gay man was the stereotypical non-monogamous, disease ridden ‘fairy’ so commonly depicted in the media, and that I was quite aware what to ‘be safe’ actually meant. I know it wasn’t an easy journey for my mum, again born out of fear. With time though, my mum has seen for herself that I live an ordinary, monogamous life that is no different to hers, she has also seen how accepting her whole family have been including my granddad who took me out for a coffee to tell me it was “OK”.
I now live with my partner Dan (pictured with me on the left) who is simply put the most wonderful, generous and caring man I have ever met who isn’t my dad. He takes care of me, loves me and supports me through all of life’s ups and downs. We lead an ‘ordinary’ life in our own house with two Border Terriers called Stanley and Elsie, we are completely monogamous and hope to get married sometime in the next few years. He is most definitely my Prince Charming. |
The greatest thing I have learnt from coming out is that people’s reactions are very often much better and more positive then you expect.
"For the people that genuinely love you, your sexuality will matter little to them."
They may have an initial ‘surface’ reaction and it may take a while for adjustment, but deep down their love for you will remain the same. To be gay isn’t a lifetime sentence condemning you to what you believe to be ‘the gay way’ of life; you can be whoever and whatever you always wanted to be. Just happy in the knowledge that you are who you are, and that’s just fine.
Follow Chris on Twitter - @chrisconfessed
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