Lee | 24 | Cardiff, Wales | English Graduate
Emancipation - My Coming Out StoryCaught with my pants down. Not literally. That’d be even more awkward. Not that this isn’t awkward enough as it is.
“You left something on the computer. Your stepdad’s seen it.” That’s enough for me to make sure that he doesn’t see me. Packing’s quite therapeutic, right? – what do I need? What don’t I need? It’s like trimming the fat off some bacon or the crusts off bread, out with what you don’t need or want. This has been a long time coming. “Everything’s fine,” was what she told me when I told her. I was a bit young, though, fifteen coming up sixteen. “Why couldn’t you have waited until you were older?” she asked. “Like Will Young.” I laugh now. It wasn’t funny then. Back then, it was like the blood pumping through my veins had gone suddenly cold and every ounce of strength I had was thrown into not screaming at the woman who raised me, the woman who gave me life. |
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“All the queers in the world must be voting for Wayne Sleep,” I remember her saying. Silly really that watching an episode of I’m a Celebrity… Get Me Out of Here should be such a defining moment in someone’s life. She didn’t know it yet, but I was one of them, though I hadn’t been voting for him, and sooner or later, I was going to disappoint them. I never watched anything with them again.
I wasn’t what she - or my stepdad, especially my stepdad - wanted. Knowing that someone finds you repulsive is horrible. Knowing your family finds you repulsive is unbearable. I hid in my room, tearing chunks out of myself every night, lying in darkness. Why me? Why them? Why this?
I’ll never be good enough.
“Did you tell Lucy?” Yes. I told Lucy. She asked. I had to tell the truth. Everyone can see anyway. Everyone could see apart from you. Maybe you just didn’t want to see.
“Her Dad works with your stepdad.” I know. You told me that before, when you warned me not to tell anyone.
“He’s said something to him.” Shit.
“We don’t have a problem with you,” she lies. “It’s just - I read something in the paper the other day about two blokes - and people found out. Kids graffiti’d abuse all up their front wall.” For a second, I thought she was genuinely worried about me. “I don’t want that happening to my house.” Ah, I see.
I haven't spoken to him for months, Mum almost as little. That's how I knew something bad must have happened for her to ring me. Being a hormonal teenage boy is the final straw.
It’s the final straw for me too. I’m at the door, bag shouldered. “Lee?” she calls from the living room.
“What?”
I wasn’t what she - or my stepdad, especially my stepdad - wanted. Knowing that someone finds you repulsive is horrible. Knowing your family finds you repulsive is unbearable. I hid in my room, tearing chunks out of myself every night, lying in darkness. Why me? Why them? Why this?
I’ll never be good enough.
“Did you tell Lucy?” Yes. I told Lucy. She asked. I had to tell the truth. Everyone can see anyway. Everyone could see apart from you. Maybe you just didn’t want to see.
“Her Dad works with your stepdad.” I know. You told me that before, when you warned me not to tell anyone.
“He’s said something to him.” Shit.
“We don’t have a problem with you,” she lies. “It’s just - I read something in the paper the other day about two blokes - and people found out. Kids graffiti’d abuse all up their front wall.” For a second, I thought she was genuinely worried about me. “I don’t want that happening to my house.” Ah, I see.
I haven't spoken to him for months, Mum almost as little. That's how I knew something bad must have happened for her to ring me. Being a hormonal teenage boy is the final straw.
It’s the final straw for me too. I’m at the door, bag shouldered. “Lee?” she calls from the living room.
“What?”
"She opens the living room
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She pauses, I swear I could have seen a smirk on her face, but maybe I imagined it. “I’ll give you a lift.”
Neither of us speaks after I’ve told her where I’m going. The silence is louder than any conversation I’ve had with her before in my life, battering the insides of my brain, but I won’t get upset. Not for her. Not anymore. She’s had too many of my tears already. The car door slams shut behind me and I walk away, taking a glance back. She’s not looking. She has her face buried in her hands. Some tears for me. Finally. |
Reuninon
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“If they make you feel weird, you have to come off them,” she says. This is weird. Weirder than how any tablet could make me feel. To be sat here, in that room, that room where I felt uncomfortable for so many years, inside that house where only the dog could stand me. It’s weird to be back here. It’s weird to talk to her. It’s been a weird seven years.
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My stepdad isn’t gonna pretend that he doesn’t find the gay thing hard, but I don’t want them to pretend. I want honesty. To pretend there was no problem would only make me feel crazier than I do already. And I’m kinda crazy these days. Medicated, even. If I say “mental” then I can smile about it. About the only time I do smile anymore.
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Mum was stuck. I see that now – a choice between two, but it wasn’t that simple. There were two other kids, much younger than me. I was lost, long gone before I ever left. Could she risk losing him too?
Don’t get me wrong; she could have done better. Seven years of thinking the woman that gave birth to you hates you does something to a person. Turns out she never did. Turns out she’s ok with me. “I’m going to have to get used to you,” my stepdad said earlier before leaving me alone with my mother, “because we love you and we miss you, and we all want you to be around again.” I don’t ask for much more than that. I don’t want much more than that. Follow Lee on Twitter - @Lee_Oldfield |
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