Jake | 23 | Hertfordshire, England | PR Consultant & Writer
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I realised I was bisexual in High School. It’s an odd feeling when you realise something earth-shattering about yourself, but I dealt quite well. Told my mum during an episode of Buffy that I thought I might like guys too (she thought it was a phase), and my friends and I discussed it at school. Nothing major – we all got over it since a lot of our group had bisexual tendencies. In that way, I was lucky. I was part of the “geeks and freaks” crowd at school. We were the kids that liked listening to rock music, hanging out at the skate park, drinking and smoking way before we should have started.
The gay thing was the shocker. I realised when my dad gave me porn “from a guy at work” and that when I was watching it, the only bits that I actually liked were when the muscled guy took off his clothes and played with himself. Again, my friends were all ok with it (until I started seeing my friend’s ex-boyfriend whereupon she decided to tell the biggest mouth in school that I was a homo, leading to my ostracism for about 6 months), and when I switched schools for sixth form and started living openly as a gay man, my new sexual orientation was the key that helped make my first friends, some of which I am still in contact with today. All was good. |
My brother and I were kind-of close (in the way that your siblings know more than your parents but less than your friends), so we discussed it when drunk. It went something like, “Can I tell you something?” “Yea, what's up?”, “I'm gay” “Really?”, “Yep” “Right, ok”, and that was it.
My parents – that was tricky. It came out because at a dinner party my aunt asked for a kiss, and since we were all a little completely drunk, I made a joke about it. She got offended and went off on one, screaming the house down, until she came up with the argument “It must be you, you must fancy me or something!” which I retorted with “Unless you have a penis under that skirt, love, I don’t think so”. My brother wets himself laughing, family goes silent, and after ushering her and my Uncle into a cab to get them home safely, I came back into the house. Mum – “Does this mean you like boys instead of girls?” “No mother, I like men, there is a difference”. Dad – “You never truly know until you’ve had sex with both” “That means you’ve shagged a bloke then doesn’t it?” Done. Bomb exploded.
My parents – that was tricky. It came out because at a dinner party my aunt asked for a kiss, and since we were all a little completely drunk, I made a joke about it. She got offended and went off on one, screaming the house down, until she came up with the argument “It must be you, you must fancy me or something!” which I retorted with “Unless you have a penis under that skirt, love, I don’t think so”. My brother wets himself laughing, family goes silent, and after ushering her and my Uncle into a cab to get them home safely, I came back into the house. Mum – “Does this mean you like boys instead of girls?” “No mother, I like men, there is a difference”. Dad – “You never truly know until you’ve had sex with both” “That means you’ve shagged a bloke then doesn’t it?” Done. Bomb exploded.
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Mum got over it fairly quickly, and came to ask regularly if I was seeing someone. She got a bit confused when a female friend stayed over in my bed, because she thought the phase had ended, but after it was made abundantly clear that I was definitely gay and that nothing happened, it was all ok.
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"Dad never recovered, and although he says it is ok, I can see it isn’t. Fortunately I have a heterosexual brother who he can be 'laddy' with."
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The best reaction I had was off of my now-deceased grandmother. Whilst her husband effed and blinded about how he didn’t understand how this had happened, and that it didn’t come from “his side of the family”, she said the best thing – “He is still my grandson, so it doesn’t matter to me”. It was a shame he outlived her, but that is one of the best memories I have of her.
At the age of 22, I am now glad I came out at the age of 15 (16 to parents). It could have been worse, and meant that in subsequent years, I gained friends, respect and love in the same way anyone my age should have done. Everyone’s coming-out story is unique, funny and painful (usually in equal measures), sometimes leading to violence and hate, but more often than not allowing a greater understanding of self and others.
At the age of 22, I am now glad I came out at the age of 15 (16 to parents). It could have been worse, and meant that in subsequent years, I gained friends, respect and love in the same way anyone my age should have done. Everyone’s coming-out story is unique, funny and painful (usually in equal measures), sometimes leading to violence and hate, but more often than not allowing a greater understanding of self and others.
I have written for LGBT-orientated publications such as So So Gay, Attitude and Pink Paper
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