Tony | 51 | Executive Coach & HR Director | London
“I’m not sure I can do this. Am I strong enough to walk through these doors. What’s going to happen when I do?” As I walked slowly across the lawn towards the hall of residence’s dining room I really wasn’t sure I could do it.
Anyway more of that later. I had grown up with a sense of difference from an early age. I couldn’t attach a label to it – I was, after all, a child – but there was a difference which others sensed and of which I was all too aware. As an adult I realised it could be a source of strength and the basis for my most powerful friendships but back in my formative years it drove me to be alone at times or to react in ways which were ‘unusual’. The most dramatic example of this was on my very first day at my new school when I was 11. Standing in the queue for assembly, not knowing a soul, up walked the bully of our year. “Well you’re gay," he announced in front of his entourage (they’d all joined from the same primary school so were a pre-formed gang). I didn’t even know what he meant. I’d had a rather sheltered upbringing in a village away from the town so genuinely had no idea what he was talking about. |
I’ve thought about that a lot. What was it that he noticed? That made him so…well…so right. I can laugh about it now but it had a massive impact on me then. It took me a while to shake off the laughs of some in my year – although inevitably worse bullying was to follow from others at school and in that village. It was arguably the source of some anxiety issues which have featured across my life.
The first person you come out to is, of course, yourself. We’re jumping forward a few years now. I’d like others to know that if they have that growing sense of difference, of not being interested in the same things, of wanting to be excluded from some pastimes, then you're not alone. It’s only now that one or two school friends have said they knew something was going on but didn’t know what and didn’t know how to help. Why did I not say anything?
There is an answer to that huge question. Two answers in fact. Firstly I was terrified of what would happen if I did. Secondly I had yet to say the words to myself.
That happened in my first year at Uni. Let’s just note that this was in pre-Internet days. Different times. I probably should have been analysing the meaning of Zola, Tournier or Goethe but instead I was glued to my little black & white TV. For on the telly that night (probably Channel 4 in its early, more radical days) was a US coming of age / coming out film. I had never seen anything like it. I’d read ‘Wild Boys’ and noticed the impact it had on me but I’d never thought that films like this might exist.
So there I sat, with my cup of tea, and quietly said to myself “That’s me!” I have just had shivers down my spine from writing that sentence for it was probably the most important and meaningful moment of my life. To say to oneself “that is who I am and that is OK” is simply profound and is an experience shared by non-heterosexual people.
I was in quite a state. Grappling with student life, Mum often critically ill in hospital (to the point that I dreaded receiving a phone call) and I'd just come out to myself. If I could have afforded it I’d probably have had a drink problem. I’m not sure I was always good to be around but in that period I formed the closest friendships which last to this day.
One of them was (is) Dot. In the year which followed – a year in which I did nothing at all about my newly-recognised sexuality, bar one or two brief encounters (i.e. firmly ‘in the closet’)- she became a person on whom I could lean. She didn’t know what was going on until I finally said, “there’s something I want to tell you..it’s quite big.” But I wasn’t ready so I bottled it and said I would tell her another time. Not massively helpful really from her perspective. If you saw the actual moment in a film you wouldn’t believe it. You'd fail to suspend your disbelief (particularly the song choice!) At the Rag Ball. 16 February 1985. I was dancing away to “Why?” by Bronski Beat when Dot wandered past. (Thanks Jimmy by the way – “Smalltown Boy” could have been written about my formative years). “Does this give you a clue?” She nodded and I told her. I couldn’t believe I’d said it. We ambled off to get a drink and she proved to be the best friend I could have hoped for. We talked and talked and talked. I realised I had chosen the right person. A brilliant friend. Thanks Dot. We also told her then boyfriend who was more than a little thrown by the whole event and later actually tried to convince me and others that I might have got it wrong. |
So those doors….
I was living in that hall of residence in a rather boisterous corridor of six young men. One of them discovered that our keys worked for each others’ rooms with the inevitable carnage that followed. The warden had refused to pay to have the locks changed despite repeated requests. It was a couple of months after that Rag Ball, Dot was away for a term in Switzerland and we were writing to one another most weeks. Those letters were on my desk. Silly me.
When I went home to Lancashire do some final revision for my Part I exams I thought I was escaping the madness. And then my parents’ phone rang. One of the two good friends on that corridor:
“Tony it’s Martin. I’m using the phone in the bar and everyone’s with me. Something has happened.”
Hmm…something has happened. That ‘something’ actually made me run to the bathroom to throw up. Devastating.
I was living in that hall of residence in a rather boisterous corridor of six young men. One of them discovered that our keys worked for each others’ rooms with the inevitable carnage that followed. The warden had refused to pay to have the locks changed despite repeated requests. It was a couple of months after that Rag Ball, Dot was away for a term in Switzerland and we were writing to one another most weeks. Those letters were on my desk. Silly me.
When I went home to Lancashire do some final revision for my Part I exams I thought I was escaping the madness. And then my parents’ phone rang. One of the two good friends on that corridor:
“Tony it’s Martin. I’m using the phone in the bar and everyone’s with me. Something has happened.”
Hmm…something has happened. That ‘something’ actually made me run to the bathroom to throw up. Devastating.
They’d had a party in my room. An acquaintance – someone I did not like at all – had kindly decided to read all my letters and had proudly announced to the party that I was gay.
Martin and the others wanted me to know that this had happened and that it’d be OK. They had not believed it and had joked about it for a while including, one night in a bar, in front of Dot’s boyfriend. Who decided he had to intervene but could not do so without confirming what they were saying. I had told Dot and him that I was gay. So, looking at it dispassionately, my best-laid plans of gradually telling the people I wanted to tell were truly out of the window.
The coach journey from Preston to Leicester felt interminable at the best of times. It used to stop everywhere. Six hours I think. This time it was unbearable. Who now knew? How would they react? What was it going to be like living in that corridor now?
As I approached the hall I thought I’d dart into the room of two female friends. My turn to notice a difference. Nothing negative but something there (which later I discovered was a ‘hurt you didn’t feel able to tell us’ reaction.) We didn’t actually talk about what had happened. They said they’d wander back with me to my corridor with as they ‘were going that way’. So back to my room I went. Nobody around. I sat there wondering what to do and realised I was late for dinner.
The coach journey from Preston to Leicester felt interminable at the best of times. It used to stop everywhere. Six hours I think. This time it was unbearable. Who now knew? How would they react? What was it going to be like living in that corridor now?
As I approached the hall I thought I’d dart into the room of two female friends. My turn to notice a difference. Nothing negative but something there (which later I discovered was a ‘hurt you didn’t feel able to tell us’ reaction.) We didn’t actually talk about what had happened. They said they’d wander back with me to my corridor with as they ‘were going that way’. So back to my room I went. Nobody around. I sat there wondering what to do and realised I was late for dinner.
250 people would be sitting in that dining room and I was about to walk in late – in front of everyone – and would have to try and find a seat. Sitting with whom? And what on earth would be the reaction now ‘everyone knew’?
Across the lawn I went, through the double doors and into - well into not so much really. Some reaction but no drama. Of course not that many people knew. A few knowing glances and comments. And my friends had saved me a seat – but couldn’t fail to notice that I just ate and left. A few people who were around that day were just great – they know who they are as I have told them more than once.
And this makes my point well. For the range of reactions I experienced in the next week or two were:
“I’m right here for you”
“We’re right here for you”
“Who cares?”
“Why did you not tell me – are we not friends?”
"What, you’re queer? “
“Have you been to the doctor?” (not meant in any way maliciously – they simply didn’t know how to react)
“I don’t believe you – you’re not gay.” (What do you say to that?)
I think the person who read and shared that letter probably did me a huge favour. Instead of having to agonise over whom to tell, before long pretty much all my Uni friends knew and lots of other people, I just had to get on with it. Leaving aside the habit of compartmentalisation, the not letting Uni friends near other friends and family, there was suddenly a level of simplicity. And I found out who my friends really were – including one or two who genuinely surprised me and to whom I am eternally grateful.
And this makes my point well. For the range of reactions I experienced in the next week or two were:
“I’m right here for you”
“We’re right here for you”
“Who cares?”
“Why did you not tell me – are we not friends?”
"What, you’re queer? “
“Have you been to the doctor?” (not meant in any way maliciously – they simply didn’t know how to react)
“I don’t believe you – you’re not gay.” (What do you say to that?)
I think the person who read and shared that letter probably did me a huge favour. Instead of having to agonise over whom to tell, before long pretty much all my Uni friends knew and lots of other people, I just had to get on with it. Leaving aside the habit of compartmentalisation, the not letting Uni friends near other friends and family, there was suddenly a level of simplicity. And I found out who my friends really were – including one or two who genuinely surprised me and to whom I am eternally grateful.
What I didn’t realise then is that ‘coming out’ isn’t a single event. I did it only yesterday to a client who had no idea (why would he?). I was fairly open in my third year (abroad) in what was West Germany – a year of discovery. When I came back from that year, and having fallen in love with someone (unrequited of course), I told all my friends from school. Nearly all of them were just fine although my closest sixth form friend never was. Oh well. Many of them later came to my civil partnership in 2007 (I never thought that’d be an option by the way!) In my fourth year at Uni I finally started to live as an openly gay man – and explored the scene in Leicester. I was besotted with one (straight) guy at Uni and made the mistake of telling people thus causing a small scandal. I found a (short-lived) boyfriend in my first ever visit to Streetlife, a gay club in Leicester.
I told my Mum (sort of) the day before she died when I was 25. “I know you think I’m quiet about my personal life – I think you know why and all you need to know is that I have a load of good friends and am happy.” “Yes that’s all I need to know right now Tony”. I told my father a few years later. That was tough. Not a bad reaction overall but I sensed he saw it as a ‘one off discussion and that we'd never talk about it again. That caused on-going friction although in the end he became quite close to my partner. It also meant that I made a huge mistake – I thought he didn’t want this ‘secret’ to be shared in the wider family so I just stayed away from Lancashire for a long time…doing my thing and developing my career in London and across Europe. |
Only in the last decade have I realised what an error that was as I’ve missed out on spending time with some people who are now amongst the most important in my life. At least I rectified the error in my 40s, but what a waste.
What else would I do differently? I’d have sought out other young gay men more quickly. Leicester was a rather conservative, middle of the road Uni and that was not as easy as you might have hoped (indeed the Student Union voted against gay rights in the year I came out – the only Uni in the country to do so). I’d have realised at a young age that something will always be missing if all your friends are straight. You have to put yourself first at times. I’d have found the courage to go to that gay pub more quickly. I’d have sought mentoring/advice from the one or two openly gay lecturers. I’d have taken charge of my adult life.
I’d also have been less ‘hard’ in my 20s and 30s towards people who didn’t know how to deal with difference. My defence mechanism could be robust to say the least – and I know I’m not alone in that. But let’s accept that there are terribly prejudiced people out there and one needs to find ways of dealing with them. I can now state with complete certainty that men who are secure in who they are don't have an issue with others’ sexuality so do remember that if someone gives you a hard time. It’s about them and their issue - not you.
I would do a better job of balancing my different groups of friends – one of the best things I see in London these days is that youngsters all seem to be so much more integrated – all in it together. Wonderful.
I’ve learnt so much on how to handle being ‘different’. I chose to be what I would call ‘discreetly open’ at work at a point where there was no employment law protection. In fact it gradually became part of my personal brand in the workplace. I mentioned my sexuality in the interview for my first HR Director position. I’ve partied across the world and in that way met my fantastic partner Andrea in 1999. I still struggle at times with how open to be with potential clients but at my best I am my authentic self. I use the knowledge I have gained in delivering inclusive leadership sessions and in my executive coaching practice. I think I am more empathetic towards other minority groups – in fact just towards other people. It makes me a much better coach than I would otherwise be. There are so many positives. I realised a long time ago that I would prefer to be born gay again if I were to have a second go at life.
We all have the responsibility to create the conditions in which friends, family and colleagues can be open about themselves including about their sexuality if they so choose. That said, nobody should be judged for being quiet about their personal life if that is what works for them. It has to be a personal choice – the timing has to be right. After the drama about being forced out of the closet I strongly believe that – even though, as I said, I think in the end that terribly stressful event turned out to be in my interests.
So to you – if you are considering coming out – my advice would be to be yourself, do it your way and at a time which works for you, maybe choose a true friend first (although you don’t always quite know who your real friends are, so think carefully).
Good luck, make sure do what is right for you and be happy!
Follow Tony on Twitter @JacksonT0ny
I’d also have been less ‘hard’ in my 20s and 30s towards people who didn’t know how to deal with difference. My defence mechanism could be robust to say the least – and I know I’m not alone in that. But let’s accept that there are terribly prejudiced people out there and one needs to find ways of dealing with them. I can now state with complete certainty that men who are secure in who they are don't have an issue with others’ sexuality so do remember that if someone gives you a hard time. It’s about them and their issue - not you.
I would do a better job of balancing my different groups of friends – one of the best things I see in London these days is that youngsters all seem to be so much more integrated – all in it together. Wonderful.
I’ve learnt so much on how to handle being ‘different’. I chose to be what I would call ‘discreetly open’ at work at a point where there was no employment law protection. In fact it gradually became part of my personal brand in the workplace. I mentioned my sexuality in the interview for my first HR Director position. I’ve partied across the world and in that way met my fantastic partner Andrea in 1999. I still struggle at times with how open to be with potential clients but at my best I am my authentic self. I use the knowledge I have gained in delivering inclusive leadership sessions and in my executive coaching practice. I think I am more empathetic towards other minority groups – in fact just towards other people. It makes me a much better coach than I would otherwise be. There are so many positives. I realised a long time ago that I would prefer to be born gay again if I were to have a second go at life.
We all have the responsibility to create the conditions in which friends, family and colleagues can be open about themselves including about their sexuality if they so choose. That said, nobody should be judged for being quiet about their personal life if that is what works for them. It has to be a personal choice – the timing has to be right. After the drama about being forced out of the closet I strongly believe that – even though, as I said, I think in the end that terribly stressful event turned out to be in my interests.
So to you – if you are considering coming out – my advice would be to be yourself, do it your way and at a time which works for you, maybe choose a true friend first (although you don’t always quite know who your real friends are, so think carefully).
Good luck, make sure do what is right for you and be happy!
Follow Tony on Twitter @JacksonT0ny
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