Coming out

Hi there, readers

This is my coming out story. Some of you (one in particular, I think) will be asking why it has taken me so long to get round to posting this, or, conversely, what has made me suddenly do so now. Why I didn't post: I'm not particularly proud of how I handled much of this period of my life, and I'm also reluctant about posting personal material like this, even anonymously and to this particularly accepting corner of blog-land. Why I'm posting now: I have given various people little bits of this story over the last few months, and it seems like time to tell it much more completely.

Before I start, I should thank several people: particularly NewLeaf (My Travels Out Of The Closet), who asked me the right question in an e-mail over six months ago, and got as the answer the text that follows; also JSL (too late for regrets), whose blog provided the occasion for that question; and various others, most recently Peter (Love<~Peter~>) and Jack (Confronting the Confused), who have got bits of the story.

NewLeaf asked me:
So it’s none of my business – but you said that can identify with some of what JSL is going through. Were you married? I just get the feeling that either you were – or you came out later in life. Don’t feel obligated to answer.

And this is how I responded:

I'm happy to answer - I've said very little about myself anywhere in blog-land yet, so it seems only fair that I should explain myself at greater length to someone (maybe there's a future blog post here...). The short answer is that I wasn't married, but I did come out later in life: at age 32 to most of my friends, a couple of years later to my parents.

The long(er) story... I was and am something of a loner, and quite geeky, I suppose. As I recall, I was more or less aware of my sexuality, or at least a definite preference for boys, in my teenage years, but didn't act on it, not that that would have been easy in rural England in the 1980s anyway. I don't recall feeling any social pressure to have a girlfriend - I think most of my close friends weren't in relationships either.

Then I went to university. I read the student handbook with its section on LBG life, and suddenly something clicked: oh yes, that's what I am, it all makes sense now. But the mindset from my teenage life continued: I had this happy expectation that at some point Mr Right would turn up, but continued in my own little bubble, not doing anything to bring it about, and of course remaining in the closet.

When I finished university, I fell off the academic conveyor belt into a real world that I was wholly unprepared for, and at a time when the UK was in recession. I spent three years unemployed and under-employed, with my confidence steadily evaporating. Eventually, a friend found me a job at the company he worked for, in computer programming (something I was good at and enjoyed). I spent the rest of my twenties recovering my self-esteem, developing some new interests and building up a new circle of friends. I think the mental scars from that time are still there, somewhere deep down.

By the time I was thirty, I was starting to get stressed. I wanted to come out, very much, but I was very afraid of the consequences of doing so. My thoughts went round in circles: must come out, daren't come out, must come out, ... It felt almost like being in a vice in a workshop, with the ratchet being tightened another notch every so often. Despite all this, I would not actually lie about my sexuality, rather just evade the question if it ever came up. Eventually, one of my more perceptive friends noticed what I was doing (there had been several instances of this close together), took me aside and asked me what was going on - or, more accurately, phrased the question in such a way that I could only truthfully say Yes. We must have talked for an hour or two after that. I went to bed that night relieved that he had taken it well, but also very uncertain what the future held. Then, the next day, I contacted another friend, and came out to her - and suddenly the ratchet was undone. I spent the next few days walking on air, no doubt grinning from ear to ear. It was the happiest time of my life, without a doubt: I felt like a completely different person. I came out to most of the rest of my friends over the next few weeks, as circumstances permitted. I must admit I had a very good bunch of friends: they were all entirely accepting, and I could have saved myself several years' stress if I hadn't been so lost inside my own head. I already knew some of them were bi, so why I should have so afraid of telling them I was gay I don't know. Oh well.

So, here I am ten years later. Still no Mr Right, but I am at least comfortable in my own skin.

With hindsight, I wish I had come out much sooner, as you might guess. Those university friends, and even school friends, that I was still in touch with when I did come out turned out to be entirely accepting. I suspect that I've been very lucky with my friends, even for the UK, let alone elsewhere. Nevertheless, I would encourage others to come out (when they feel it's safe to do so) simply for the peace of mind that it gives, from the freedom to be oneself, and not have to hide all the time.

Take care

Mark