Nick | 31 | Bournemouth, England | Snr Marketing Executive
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You know the scene in Romy & Michele's High School Reunion where Lisa Kudrow and Mira Sorvino reflect on their school years whilst looking through a yearbook, and come to the conclusion that they were loners? I kind of empathise with that. Until I was about 15, I was very much the awkward, geeky kid who had three close friends and spent most of his time pouring over a copy of Smash Hits deciding which member of Eternal he was, via a route of totally irrelevant questions. I had absolutely no cool about me and I wasn't popular. I knew I was gay and, if I am truly honest, I really didn't want to be. My parents weren't tolerant of homosexuality. My dad was a rugby player and my mum had been raised by a mother and father who were in their late forties when they had her. The views they'd passed down were pretty much Victorian. I grew up in a very small town in the middle of the New Forest. There were only 6,000 locals and, as clichéd as it sounds, everyone knew everyone but nobody came out. So all I had to really gauge my views on were those that I saw in the media and, back in the early/mid-nineties, there was still so much censorship and negative press around gay people. It wasn't an aspiration of mine to find a slot in that demographic. |
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At 13, my mum had a nervous breakdown and, shortly afterwards, my parents embarked on a damned messy divorce. Dad moved out and I was left to try to shelter my little sister from the emotional outpouring of grief that followed. I wasn't the 'man about the house' sort, as you can imagine, but a lot of pressures fell upon me and it didn't take long before I started to take the stress out on myself.
Coupled with struggling to hide being gay (whilst of course simultaneously making it overtly obvious by plastering my pencil tin with stickers of pop starlets), the stress of living in a volatile household resulted in me trying to find some control in my life; something that I could regulate. It's a contributing factor that you often hear when people talk about how they developed an eating disorder, and it was very much the same for me.
With so much happening at home, it was quite easy to conceal and, over the course of four years, it didn't take long for the control I had over food to give way to habitual vomiting, laxative taking and salt water drinking. I of course only started to hate myself more and more, getting to the point where I would not show off my arms or legs and instead ensure I was always in fleeces and jeans so that nobody could see what I really didn't like. When forced to go to Bournemouth beach, I'd lie there wrapped up like a mummy.
At school, not being very high profile became a bit of a buffer but I was still able to put on a good performance with my friends. They didn't notice much change but I stopped going out as much in the evenings or weekends, especially if I knew I'd have to eat socially. The downside of that was that had to spend time at home, but I'd usually hole myself away in my bedroom.
Coupled with struggling to hide being gay (whilst of course simultaneously making it overtly obvious by plastering my pencil tin with stickers of pop starlets), the stress of living in a volatile household resulted in me trying to find some control in my life; something that I could regulate. It's a contributing factor that you often hear when people talk about how they developed an eating disorder, and it was very much the same for me.
With so much happening at home, it was quite easy to conceal and, over the course of four years, it didn't take long for the control I had over food to give way to habitual vomiting, laxative taking and salt water drinking. I of course only started to hate myself more and more, getting to the point where I would not show off my arms or legs and instead ensure I was always in fleeces and jeans so that nobody could see what I really didn't like. When forced to go to Bournemouth beach, I'd lie there wrapped up like a mummy.
At school, not being very high profile became a bit of a buffer but I was still able to put on a good performance with my friends. They didn't notice much change but I stopped going out as much in the evenings or weekends, especially if I knew I'd have to eat socially. The downside of that was that had to spend time at home, but I'd usually hole myself away in my bedroom.
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It was then that my love for music became more intense and I'd memorise the charts, writing out my predictions and scoring myself on where songs would actually end up. I started buying music. I didn't have much money - I'd just got a job working in a kitchen at a nursing home - but all my money went on cassette singles that I would just play over and over.
When I was 15, things started to get a little bit better. I found out that I was pretty good at drama. I started to get really positive reviews on some of my performances in class and before I knew it, I'd landed the role of the big baddie Dreyfus in The Pink Panther Strikes Again. Suddenly, I had this thing that I was good at which I loved doing. Sure, I'd been a bit of an academic when it came to languages, but this was much more fun that learning my 'der' from my 'die' and 'dem' in German or analysing Lord of the Flies in English Lit.
You'd have thought that being so self-conscious, I would have fled from putting myself in front of a crowd but it was actually quite the opposite. It was good being somebody else. Music found a way of occupying my mind but acting did that as well as occupying my body. It was quite liberating to actually have to not be me, rather than feel like I was deliberately deceiving people.
As I became more involved in drama and amateur dramatics groups and music, I truly began to feel more confident in my personality. I was more interactive with different people and it helped to widen my social circle. I became more popular although, at the same time, being good at drama was yet another sign to the bullies that I was clearly a closeted homosexual who would try to jump them in the showers at any point.
Not only that, but my friend Adam - my best mate since the age of three - was becoming increasingly flamboyant. He'd dye his hair on a monthly basis. From plum one week to platinum blond, the next. He would get bullied for being camp and, as I became involved in the acting, it became clear to them that I was obviously Adam's secret lover.
When I was 15, things started to get a little bit better. I found out that I was pretty good at drama. I started to get really positive reviews on some of my performances in class and before I knew it, I'd landed the role of the big baddie Dreyfus in The Pink Panther Strikes Again. Suddenly, I had this thing that I was good at which I loved doing. Sure, I'd been a bit of an academic when it came to languages, but this was much more fun that learning my 'der' from my 'die' and 'dem' in German or analysing Lord of the Flies in English Lit.
You'd have thought that being so self-conscious, I would have fled from putting myself in front of a crowd but it was actually quite the opposite. It was good being somebody else. Music found a way of occupying my mind but acting did that as well as occupying my body. It was quite liberating to actually have to not be me, rather than feel like I was deliberately deceiving people.
As I became more involved in drama and amateur dramatics groups and music, I truly began to feel more confident in my personality. I was more interactive with different people and it helped to widen my social circle. I became more popular although, at the same time, being good at drama was yet another sign to the bullies that I was clearly a closeted homosexual who would try to jump them in the showers at any point.
Not only that, but my friend Adam - my best mate since the age of three - was becoming increasingly flamboyant. He'd dye his hair on a monthly basis. From plum one week to platinum blond, the next. He would get bullied for being camp and, as I became involved in the acting, it became clear to them that I was obviously Adam's secret lover.
"We would have other kids, girls and boys,
calling us 'queers' or 'bum boys' in the corridor."
It's crazy when I look back. We'd been friends for over ten years and we felt that it was perfectly normal for us to re-enact Spice Girl music videos in the New Forest (I WAS CLEARLY GERI), without even questioning the other one's sexuality. To everyone else it was obvious but still when he came out, my legs nearly buckled from under me. I wasn't horrified but I clearly wasn't ready to publicly come out of the closet and draw even more attention to me than there already was. We were sixteen and I knew he had told the other two girls something as they kept going off and whispering without me. When I lost my patience, he just blurted it out, saying he had kept it from me because he thought I was homophobic after some negative comment I'd made about Gaytime TV.
I remember shaking and feeling physically sick as he walked off, and I went home and I cried. Because, although I wasn't ready to deal with it, I didn't know at that point if I would ever be ready to deal with it. And if I was going to face up to who I really was at any time in the future, here was the perfect opportunity to talk to someone who I trusted and would understand.
So I did what most kids did back then and I wrote a five page letter. It was probably a bit much. As you can tell from this, I've not lost the knack of going in to more detail than necessary! I gave it to Adam at 3pm the next day after school, just after the bell went and ran home. About two hours later the landline rang - we didn't have mobiles back in the dark days of 97! - and we talked about it for two hours. Another big cliché alert!
I remember shaking and feeling physically sick as he walked off, and I went home and I cried. Because, although I wasn't ready to deal with it, I didn't know at that point if I would ever be ready to deal with it. And if I was going to face up to who I really was at any time in the future, here was the perfect opportunity to talk to someone who I trusted and would understand.
So I did what most kids did back then and I wrote a five page letter. It was probably a bit much. As you can tell from this, I've not lost the knack of going in to more detail than necessary! I gave it to Adam at 3pm the next day after school, just after the bell went and ran home. About two hours later the landline rang - we didn't have mobiles back in the dark days of 97! - and we talked about it for two hours. Another big cliché alert!
"The biggest weight was taken off my shoulders and suddenly,
just like that, I felt like I was accepted for being me."
All the negative stuff I'd heard from my mum and dad had led me to believe I was due to live the virginal life of Winona Ryder's character in Mermaids. Actually, she lost it in the belfry, overlooking the convent didn't she? Probably not the best comparison. but anyway, here was Adam, much more down with the kids and aware of all of the good stuff, to tell me that actually it was going to be brilliant and there were loads of places outside of Fordingbridge.
We started college that year and, if I'm honest, I went back in the closet and came out as bisexual and went back in and came out as gay more times than Adam could probably throw a stick at. But at 17, after a supposed friend 'accidentally' found out I was gay after digging in to my school email account and mentioned it to one of my other close friends, I decided to make sure that I was the one who told the people that I really wanted to know.
I started with my oldest friends, most of which kindly and sensitively told me that it didn't come as a great shock. Surprise, bloody surprise! I then told my little sister who went on a crusade to ensure that anyone in the lower school talking about her big brother in a negative way would get a lashing of her mightily protective tongue. She told me later that she felt that it was her turn to look out for me.
A couple of new guys joined our college from Salisbury, and I became great friends with them too. One was an Eternal fan and one did a great impression of Kenneth Williams. Yup. It wasn't just me and Adam vs the world. This was a movement! One of the guys I became really good mates with (the Eternal fan, bien sur), and after college we moved to London and got jobs working front of house in the theatre.
I fully embraced the nocturnal night life of London, working for The Lion King musical which had just opened before enlightening myself in various bars and clubs. My eyes were opened for the first time in my life and I without a doubt enjoyed London and its people a little bit too much. Six months later, I decided that I needed to head back home to save up for uni. Dad picked me and my stuff up from my flat in London, and on the way back he started a conversation about Adam, asking whether his parents were comfortable with him being gay. I told him that yes, they were. Because Adam was the same person that he had always been. He hadn't manifested in to someone or something different. And I then told Dad that if I was gay, I'd hope he wouldn't think that I was any different than the son he'd raised. It was a way to start the discussion that led to me coming out and it gave us time that we'd rarely shared before to actually talk to one another.
Since my dad had left my mum, he'd met someone else and had relaxed in himself. I knew something had changed and he was more accepting. He asked questions like "Well, maybe you've just not met the right girl?" I told him "Maybe, you're gay and you've just not met the right guy?” He laughed and I think it clicked. So came the time to tell my mum who too had moved on and remarried. I'd always been her confidant and it scared the shit out of me to risk upsetting her.
We started college that year and, if I'm honest, I went back in the closet and came out as bisexual and went back in and came out as gay more times than Adam could probably throw a stick at. But at 17, after a supposed friend 'accidentally' found out I was gay after digging in to my school email account and mentioned it to one of my other close friends, I decided to make sure that I was the one who told the people that I really wanted to know.
I started with my oldest friends, most of which kindly and sensitively told me that it didn't come as a great shock. Surprise, bloody surprise! I then told my little sister who went on a crusade to ensure that anyone in the lower school talking about her big brother in a negative way would get a lashing of her mightily protective tongue. She told me later that she felt that it was her turn to look out for me.
A couple of new guys joined our college from Salisbury, and I became great friends with them too. One was an Eternal fan and one did a great impression of Kenneth Williams. Yup. It wasn't just me and Adam vs the world. This was a movement! One of the guys I became really good mates with (the Eternal fan, bien sur), and after college we moved to London and got jobs working front of house in the theatre.
I fully embraced the nocturnal night life of London, working for The Lion King musical which had just opened before enlightening myself in various bars and clubs. My eyes were opened for the first time in my life and I without a doubt enjoyed London and its people a little bit too much. Six months later, I decided that I needed to head back home to save up for uni. Dad picked me and my stuff up from my flat in London, and on the way back he started a conversation about Adam, asking whether his parents were comfortable with him being gay. I told him that yes, they were. Because Adam was the same person that he had always been. He hadn't manifested in to someone or something different. And I then told Dad that if I was gay, I'd hope he wouldn't think that I was any different than the son he'd raised. It was a way to start the discussion that led to me coming out and it gave us time that we'd rarely shared before to actually talk to one another.
Since my dad had left my mum, he'd met someone else and had relaxed in himself. I knew something had changed and he was more accepting. He asked questions like "Well, maybe you've just not met the right girl?" I told him "Maybe, you're gay and you've just not met the right guy?” He laughed and I think it clicked. So came the time to tell my mum who too had moved on and remarried. I'd always been her confidant and it scared the shit out of me to risk upsetting her.
"So in the end, I just made sure I left some £1 entry flyers to G-A-Y in my bag which I knew she'd end up finding. Cowardly, yes.
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She did. The funny thing is, when I'd told her that Adam was gay, she had asked me several times afterwards if I was. As if being his friend meant I was gay by association. The same mentality of the bullies at school. I hadn't been ready at the time but when she asked me this time round and I said 'yes'.
Mum cried. She accused me of having lied to her but that she'd never known. I told her that she must have thought about it, else she wouldn't have asked me. She'd never questioned my elder brother's sexuality. My little sister, probably inappropriately at the time, weighed in with her rather impressive equality speech; one that she'd honed over the years. I went up to my room and listened to music and cried.
But then mum came up and we talked. Whilst I was at college, she'd discovered me making myself sick and dragged me to the doctor who had recommended I go to an eating disorder clinic, as I was at risk of damaging my organs due to nutrient deficiency. The shock, fear and shame gave me the kick up the arse to try to sort myself out. It was the start of a long process but it was a start.
We talked about that and whether that was caused by me being gay. We talked about her brother who had come out as gay after twenty years being married and how it had in part reinforced a negative opinion of gay men as a whole. She talked about HIV and AIDS and her fear of how I'd be at greater risk. It was simply a case of educating my mum who was indoctrinated with the views of elder parents and negative depictions of gay men and their lifestyles. It didn't take years. It took weeks. Even days.
Now my relationships with both my mum and my dad are stronger than they have ever been and continue to grow and develop. I feel immense pride at being their son, and wouldn't recognise them as the parents who raised me as a teen but then I don't recognise myself either. I put a lot of things behind me, and as I move forward in my life, I distance myself away from negative folk and those who just want to complain about anything and everything. It's just not worth being around.
Eleven years ago, I met my now-husband and we celebrated our civil partnership last year. At the reception, I created a playlist that was CHOCKABLOCK with 90s hits. Not of the Whigfield sort either. You see, I look back to the 90s and I barely spend any time thinking about the personal stuff that was going on. I think about the music and my friends. That's what dominates my memories of school in particular and it's a hint as to how powerful music can be. A reason why I still love trying to keep up to speed with music and writing about it.
So why the heavy autobiographical background then? Well, I questioned this for ages. I wasn't sure that I wanted to put this much personal information out there but, as Mary Schmit wrote in her 1997 Chicago Tribune article 'Advice, like youth, probably wasted on the young', 'my advice has no basis other than my own meandering experience'.
So four weeks after drafting it, here you are. Me trying to contextualise my scenario on the off chance that it may resonate and help even one person. Because there will be other kids who grow up in small towns and not have people around to talk to. And there are kids who will struggle with being and feeling different and take it out on themselves. Hopefully, by not glossing over what got me here, someone may be more inclined to listen.
What I have learnt from my experience is that you should never try to ignore who you are or pretend you're something else. You don't have to talk about it, in order to accept it. But in accepting it, know that it isn't wrong. And when you can talk about it, do. Educate yourself and educate others.
"Coming out is like jumping in to the unknown. You might not know what awaits you but once you've made that leap, you won't want to go back.
Good luck!"
Follow Nick on Twitter - @nickbassett1981
If you'd like to check out some random mutterings about music from a man whose opinion doesn't really mean that much, head to http://www.there-view.tumblr.com or you can follow @TheRe_View on Twitter or catch it in your Facebook newsfeed at www.facebook.com/TheReView123
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