John Hardley

Confessions






I'm no writer. Far from it, I despised
English all through school with its ambiguous metaphors and vague
author meaning. Although I can appreciate it as a form of expression
which is what I plan to do as I need to get this out of my head. This
piece has no hidden meaning, it's simply a personal story about being
a gay guy and dealing with people in general.
I can remember my first kiss, it was at
the school social in year 7, she had asked one of her friends to
convince me to go with her. She tasted like a Moro chocolate bar and Fanta... a bad
combination.
It wasn't until year 9 at school that I
truly realised that this wasn't just a phase, it wouldn't leave me no
matter how much I wanted to be 'normal'. After going through the
stage of awkward sex talks with mum at about the same age, it was
easy for me to bluff within my big circle of friends. They must have
just subconsciously accepted that I didn't talk about sex unless I
was asked, in which case I lied.
With years of boys talk of what do
you think of...? isn't.... hot? I decided that I'd cover myself by
asking a girl to the school ball in year 12, she said yes and we went
as a couple, she kissed me at the after ball and I politely kissed
her back. All of my friends had heard a few days later but I told
them that she's a nice girl but not my type which got them off my
back a bit. My friends were almost in the nerd category at school but
everyone got along with us and there were a lot of us, many of which
didn't have girlfriends so it was no problem that I didn't have one
either.
The next year I had a female friend who
had left the school the year earlier who wanted to come to the ball
so again it looked to others as thought I had a date.
It wasn't until October of my last year
of high school that I came out to anyone, and the first person just
so happened to be my mum. I can't remember how it came up in
conversation, she asked me a question with double negatives which I
found hard to lie about so I thought screw it and told her. My
heart was pounding and all she said at first as Oh and then
what felt like a long awkward pause before I told her strongly that
if she said anything to anyone I would move out, which was a strong
threat as she and dad had split up earlier in the year after 25 years
of marriage. She finally started talking again but the questions were
things like so what kind of guys are you into? which I refused
to answer and left the room. The questions still haven't stopped.
In the year following high school I
took a year off to clear my head, get away and get some life
experience. I found a job working in a small rural town in the UK
which was very insular and quite overwhelming, it required a lot of
phone calls back home which made for a good distraction as my parents
got back together while I was away. I called one of my good friends
who was bi and told him that I was gay, he didn't believe me at first
and then starting asking me questions about it. A week after arriving
back home after my travels I got a late night text message from a
number I didn't know saying Everyone know's. If you don't tell
people the flood gates will open... I didn't take that so well,
assuming the worst, that I was being blackmailed, I replied Sorry,
I don't have your number, who's this to which I received It's
better you don't know, at this point I was furious and anxious but
trying to remain composed. I tell the person No offence but that's
a little creepy, why don't you just F*ck off. It turns out that
the only friend I had told while I was overseas had told at least
eight of my really good friends, and with the exception of this text,
none of them had told me anything. They were just keeping me at arm's
length. I went into damage control now forced to tell other friends
who didn't know just so they didn't get the gossip and feel as pissed
off as the friend who had been texting me. Needless to say my bi
friend and I are no longer speaking and a large group of my friends
have turned their back on him as well.
A few days later Dad approached me and
straight up asked so when were you going to tell me you're gay?
he had been picking up the signals from mum for the past year and
finally confronted me. He had be going to counseling about the
separation from mum and it was because of this that he was so cool
and collected when talking about it. A few years earlier I remember
mum (who is a very free spirit) talking about something she'd seen in
the news about a woman who had decided to become a man but kept all
her parts and is now having a baby because his partner went through
chemo and can't carry kids. Dad made a comment along the lines of oh
my god honey, I'm eating.
I've only recently told my brother, but
only because I'd been waiting for the right time and he asked me
about my sex like when I was drunk which probably wasn't the best
time but he took it really well, he was one of the few people I was
really worried about telling because I didn't want to lose the bond I
have with him. He has been telling me to tell my older sister as well
but I'm not nearly as close with her as I am with my brother.
I'm really not a stereotype and I'm not
proud enough of who I am to be open with most people. I still have a
very large group who I am yet to tell. I'm taking baby steps but I've
poked my head out of the closet and there's no turning back now.

 

All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of John Hardley.
Published on e-Stories.org on 03/31/2010.

 

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