John | 36 | Glasgow, Scotland | Family Physician/GP
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I hesitate to put pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard, for my coming out story. I am no celebrity but as a doctor working in a specific area with a following of patients I have never enjoyed making more than a smidgen of my private life - holidays and hobbies - public knowledge. Sometimes, the less patients know about you, the better. Looking back on my childhood, like many gay people, the signs were there. "Although I got a new Action Man every Christmas, I still very much enjoyed playing with my older sister and her Sindy dolls." I can still recollect the embarrassment of my mother taking me to my classmate’s parent’s newsagents to buy me a Sindy doll (to be Action Man’s girlfriend, of course). Even then, at that tender age, I can recall the humiliation of mum asking me in front of the store owner which doll I wanted. I also have a recollection of admiring, and wanting to be, a much older girl who was playing the leading ‘boy’ role in a school musical. That said, I still enjoyed playing with the next door children’s Star Wars figurines and lightsabers.
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In primary school, I tended to have many more girls as friends than boys. I suspect that my mum rationalised this as being a result of my position in class at the ‘top table’; a table reserved for those youngsters who did best on their class tests and appeared the most likely to succeed academically. Of course, the table comprised mostly girls, as tends to be the case at that age.
Just as my sister had her own imaginary friend for many years, I too had an imaginary friend. Well, not just one but actually a gang of nameless boys who I imagined tended to be rebels and dress up in leather. Really. I guess in an elementary way I was actually discovering my sexual attractions and turn-ons. In my defence, the ‘gang’ were never as significant or as omnipresent as my sister’s imaginary friend (who was definitely not sexual!).
Primary school was fairly uneventful otherwise. I was not sporty but I enjoyed tennis and was reasonably good at it at that age; enough to disguise any homosexual vibes. I was introduced to classical music - specifically violin and piano tuition - and progressed quickly along this line. By the time I was in early mainstream high school, I was also spending Saturday’s studying at the former Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama’s Junior Department on a scholarship. I made friends with more boys at high school but remained poor at most of the conventional male sports - my standout moments were always with racquet sports, and were few and far between. I felt I was the butt of my male P.E. teachers’ jokes and, in retrospect, possibly homosexual innuendo. I was well known for being academic. I became less popular with boys the more I was academically successful.
Just as my sister had her own imaginary friend for many years, I too had an imaginary friend. Well, not just one but actually a gang of nameless boys who I imagined tended to be rebels and dress up in leather. Really. I guess in an elementary way I was actually discovering my sexual attractions and turn-ons. In my defence, the ‘gang’ were never as significant or as omnipresent as my sister’s imaginary friend (who was definitely not sexual!).
Primary school was fairly uneventful otherwise. I was not sporty but I enjoyed tennis and was reasonably good at it at that age; enough to disguise any homosexual vibes. I was introduced to classical music - specifically violin and piano tuition - and progressed quickly along this line. By the time I was in early mainstream high school, I was also spending Saturday’s studying at the former Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama’s Junior Department on a scholarship. I made friends with more boys at high school but remained poor at most of the conventional male sports - my standout moments were always with racquet sports, and were few and far between. I felt I was the butt of my male P.E. teachers’ jokes and, in retrospect, possibly homosexual innuendo. I was well known for being academic. I became less popular with boys the more I was academically successful.
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While I was becoming less popular with the guys, I was beginning to have seeds of depression sown. I began going through a difficult patch in life where I was starting to notice the other boys entering and going through puberty, whilst I lagged behind. I was put down as a ‘late bloomer’ and put on weight. I was ridiculed by my peers for my pre-pubescent appearance and voice. (Even in my later teenage years and into my early twenties, I endured jibes about my boyish appearance from those whom who could have been expected to behave more appropriately; this included teachers and house-staff on residential youth orchestra courses. These were people I should have been able to trust. I remember one of them sniggering whilst asking me if I had ever had a girlfriend. A loaded question.)
"I mostly kept all the hurt and feelings of hopelessness to myself. My self-esteem was non-existent." |
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Complex emotions were aroused within me. Whilst I knew I really enjoyed seeing the guys in our P.E. changing room (and only the above-the-waist stuff!) I felt upset that I wasn’t developing physically and felt confused that I could get a thrill from seeing these young hirsute guys yet didn’t seem so excited thinking of the girls in the next door changing room.
In fact, any material I could get my hands on that showed the slightest glimpse of hot young men who appeared physically mature would be instantly bookmarked in my mind and gazed at longingly. This included my sister’s Home & Away annual which had alluring pictures of Adam, Blake and Simon. Oh, the days before the internet!!
I had never envisaged myself as a gay male. I had a plan. I was going to get married. Have kids. I just hadn’t become noticeably attracted to females yet, but that was surely because I wasn’t as physically developed as my male counterparts. All those feelings would materialise eventually. Surely.
I rationalised my attraction to other guys as being my desire to be as physically mature as them. This continued through my entire University career in medicine. I stayed home, retreated into myself and used my studying to justify my failure to attend many medical student socials. I didn’t seem to have the same feelings or desires to sleep with girls and never had a girlfriend. The closest I came to the latter was in final year when the final year weekend ball came. A girl who had been in my group for several clinical attachments asked me if I wanted to sit at her table. I didn’t read all the signs, but looking back I can tell she liked me. The first night of the weekend was a hollywood movie night and we all dressed up. I went as Crocodile Dundee (though kept my top on) and had a blast. The second night was the more formal evening and the awards night. My ‘date’ disappeared off with her girlfriends and left me alone. Then came the small matter of the Yearbook. This was meant to have our matriculation pictures from first year as our main photos. It turned out that this hadn’t happened and for the few people who weren’t in-the-know and hadn’t been informed, the yearbook committee substituted other pictures instead. I was one of the uninformed, and I was afforded a picture of a penis. On discovering this mid-evening, I retreated to a toilet, crouched and cried for a couple of hours before calling my sister for a lift home.
The signs were all there. I was going through clinical depression. I still thought this was mainly due to my physical immaturity and the stress of the medical curriculum but I was only partly correct. I was gay.
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Anyone who has done their junior hospital doctor years knows two things. Firstly, it is bloody hard. Secondly, those who come after you always have it “easier” than you did. My junior hospital jobs were in 2001/2002 and I put my head down and got on with the long and frequently anti-social hours. I was immersed in medicine. Socialising and girlfriends were off the cards. This was good as I was neither interested in socialising or in girls. I continued to be taunted about my youthful appearance and baby-face by the ward staff and by patients. I seemed to be the real Doogie Howser. By the time I was doing my speciality training, I was much more aware that the attraction to men was indelible, permanent and there was nothing I could do about it. I fueled my depressive illness by keeping it to myself. I figured that I didn’t need to act on my feelings. Nobody would get hurt if I kept it to myself. I had a fairly horrendous time at home with my family who couldn’t understand my depression but did their absolute best to get me the help I needed. My GP was fantastic. At my request, I had an initial referral to a psychologist privately who did not uncover my true issues and instead attributed my problems to parental smothering and a need to be independent. Following another period of a few years, I found a very nice doctor who was a lovely maternal lady who had a background in general practice and I found it very easy to relate to her. When she asked why I hadn’t been in a relationship yet (in my late twenties), I blurted out, stammering, “because I don’t know what I want”. This was the first time I had admitted to anyone that I was maybe not straight. I was fortunate that my doctor was so supportive and gentle, but I asked her to keep it private. |
A short time later I texted my sister that I was concerned I was bisexual. I figured it would be easier to diffuse the shock by suggesting I was attracted to guys as well as girls. In other words, I could still have a ‘normal’ life, but was just acknowledging that I had other attractions too. My sister who is very special, my best friend and confidante, was incredibly supportive but we didn’t really speak much more about it for a while. I can’t imagine what was going through her mind, and I have never asked her since.
I can thank my best friend, also one of the most special people in the world, Shona, for inadvertently bringing the matter to a head. I met her through my sister whilst I was still at university, and for several years we had been getting on so well that eventually Shona, herself divorced and straight but a vocal proponent of LGBT issues and with a, some would say unfortunate, attraction to homosexual men(!), asked me in a very unique and special way if I wished to consider dating her. Initially I managed to let her down by comparing our relationship to that of two of her favourite fictional characters, Hermione Granger and Harry Potter. I knew that this was not only not the whole truth but also it was disrespectful to Shona as the ‘problem’ lay with me, and not with her. It was not long before I texted her to explain more fully my suspicion I was gay. She was completely and utterly supportive. I have not looked back and she is one of my strongest supporters to this day.
I can thank my best friend, also one of the most special people in the world, Shona, for inadvertently bringing the matter to a head. I met her through my sister whilst I was still at university, and for several years we had been getting on so well that eventually Shona, herself divorced and straight but a vocal proponent of LGBT issues and with a, some would say unfortunate, attraction to homosexual men(!), asked me in a very unique and special way if I wished to consider dating her. Initially I managed to let her down by comparing our relationship to that of two of her favourite fictional characters, Hermione Granger and Harry Potter. I knew that this was not only not the whole truth but also it was disrespectful to Shona as the ‘problem’ lay with me, and not with her. It was not long before I texted her to explain more fully my suspicion I was gay. She was completely and utterly supportive. I have not looked back and she is one of my strongest supporters to this day.
"Thereafter, I confirmed it yet again with my sister, Margaret who was fantastic. It took a while longer before I had the courage to tell my mum. I was thirty-one."
I believe my sister had previously mentioned my concerns about bisexuality to my mum when they were both worried about my depression. So, in a sense, my mum could have predicted what was coming. We had all taken a trip to the cinema to see the Disney-Pixar film ‘Up’ but for reasons I cannot recall we had travelled in two separate vehicles. Mum opted to travel in my car to return home. It was during this physical journey that my mental journey took another great step. My recollection is a little hazy. My mum always has a tendency to guilt-trip herself and I knew she blamed herself for my depression. A conversation in the car eventually led to me stopping, breaking down emotionally and telling her that I was gay. The whole thing is a bit blurry. She reacted the way most parents react; she was worried I would be subjected to prejudice, ridicule, disease and violence but she was totally accepting. I found it surprising that she did not ask the ubiquitous ‘but how can you be sure?’ question.
I started exploring the gay community once I had come out to my mum. I looked to date and was introduced to the scene.
I think mum perhaps felt that I shouldn’t bother telling dad. My dad can be very serious, is a religious church-goer and seldom does affection. He shows his love in the things he does for his children. My dad’s only knowledge of homosexuality came from his deceased nephew (who was gay and died in the USA when I was a youngster) and from one of his best friend’s sons who was gay. I think I was ultimately spurred on to come out to him at the time when Attitude magazine featured an article on Steven Davies, the English cricketer. My dad is a cricket fanatic. I thought if a professional English cricketer is gay then maybe my dad will be more likely to accept me. I knew I couldn’t tell him face-to-face as I still struggled to even say the word “gay” but whilst he was away on holiday watching live cricket I texted him. I believe I told him that I was unable to date my friend, Shona, as I realised I was like Steven Davies - did he know what I meant? I didn’t get any reply from him until the following week we were sitting on a train and he told me he’d got my text, loved me unconditionally but I shouldn’t label myself and should keep an open mind. I suspect that this last statement was in part related to his best friend’s son having recently broken up with his male partner in order to pursue a woman. No more was said, nor has anything else been said ever since (and that was about 3 years ago).
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I occasionally venture out to local gay pubs/clubs, but have really struggled to make a lot of new gay friends. Being a doctor I think puts others off and I guess I am choosy! I have met some nice guys, others less so. I have dated but not done the whole relationship thing yet. It has been really hard coming out in my early thirties and if there is one thing I regret, it is not doing it sooner when I could have made long-term friends, had some experience and then felt more settled by my thirties. "I still feel like a lost child in adolescence exploring my feelings." I have eventually gotten treatment for my physical immaturity which I’m still going through. It makes dating even more difficult as my physical maturity is discordant with my chronological age.
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Until recently my mantra has been that I don’t need to broadcast my sexuality. Although I wasn’t ‘out’ beyond my family and best friends, I wasn’t ‘in’ either. I didn’t pretend to be someone I am not. I just didn’t mention being gay. Eventually, on my birthday this year, there came a moment when I felt I shouldn’t need to hide my identity any longer. I wanted to purge myself of those people who wouldn’t accept me. Whilst sitting in the hairdresser, browsing Facebook on my iPhone I posted: “So I appear to be living proof that you don't have to be straight to like ice hockey. Gotta problem with that?- you know where the unfriend button is.” I was overwhelmed at the response I got. Fifty-six likes and thirty-six significant messages of support from that first post. (And no un-friends). The relief I got from the response cannot be measured or summed up in words. It is like having carried a terrible terrible secret for so long, something of which you are so ashamed that it daren’t even be mentioned or alluded to, and then suddenly there’s a sense of utter freedom, of being able to breathe fully. It is as if you come to a point where you have to jump off a metaphorical cliff only to find that you are caught by dozens of hands before you hit the ground. Not only that, but some of those hands belong to the least likely people. People know the ‘worst’ thing about you.... and it’s ok.
A special mention has to go to my best guy friend, Ally. Originally from Glasgow, Ally and I first met snowboarding at the local Xscape. He has always been supportive of me through my coming out journey. He is a typical rugby-playing, snowboarding, bike-riding, outdoors guy and he has ultimately moved to Canada with his Canadian wife, but I am so lucky to count him as my best guy friend. Having a straight male ally (pun intended) has been so fantastic.
Undoubtedly, the facebook post I made was one of the best decisions I have made in my life. And whilst, it might not be the best way for everyone to come out, it was the most effective for me to tell people whom I do not always see regularly beyond my closest friends and family. And when I struggle again with others’ prejudice and misconceptions, I can always look back to that post and see all the likes and the comments and feel the same emotions I felt when I first read them. In essence though, you have to take that leap of faith and risk of rejection in order to be happy in the long-term.
Follow John on Twitter - @CuringTheWorld
A special mention has to go to my best guy friend, Ally. Originally from Glasgow, Ally and I first met snowboarding at the local Xscape. He has always been supportive of me through my coming out journey. He is a typical rugby-playing, snowboarding, bike-riding, outdoors guy and he has ultimately moved to Canada with his Canadian wife, but I am so lucky to count him as my best guy friend. Having a straight male ally (pun intended) has been so fantastic.
Undoubtedly, the facebook post I made was one of the best decisions I have made in my life. And whilst, it might not be the best way for everyone to come out, it was the most effective for me to tell people whom I do not always see regularly beyond my closest friends and family. And when I struggle again with others’ prejudice and misconceptions, I can always look back to that post and see all the likes and the comments and feel the same emotions I felt when I first read them. In essence though, you have to take that leap of faith and risk of rejection in order to be happy in the long-term.
Follow John on Twitter - @CuringTheWorld
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