Coming out vs Inviting In
I know today is the 50th anniversary of the Stonewall Uprising and it’s an important milestone in world history. However as always, I want to take you through a way more personal journey as we finish Pride Month. I’ve read so many emotional stories or realisation, struggle, pain, heartbreak and so on…but ‘What about me?’ you say…
From a very young age I knew something was different about me. I don’t know if it was being of premature birth, or how I was raised but I never seemed to understand the world around me. I was curious about how it was put together. When I went to primary school I was a very sensitive soul. I was very quickly was called gay or poof without hesitation as I grew and travelled through school classes. I slowly began having an affinity for music and started singing towards the later years of primary school.
In secondary school, it was more of the same. Same people called me gay, while I tried to study more while I slowly grew my musical side of things. Sexuality was still blurred and uncomfortable. I concentrated on my studies rather than ‘chasing girls’ but it all fell apart once my parents divorced. I held on with dear life and scraped three GCSEs on leaving secondary school.
New cultures, new opportunities and one whirlwind romance later I was married at the age of 20…
Sixth form college I started understanding more about sexuality and music. I learnt guitar, found faith in Christ, had my sexual debut and carved out a safe space in the church community immersing myself deeply in worship team culture before leaving for university in the South East.
University changed me even more. New cultures, new opportunities and one whirlwind romance later I was married at the age of 20. I still managed to graduate while commuting from one side of the county to another while holding down a job. I didn’t know what was ahead of me at all.
I hated being a man. It disgusted me to my very core and still to this day makes my whole spirit clench.
Finishing up university, my relationship went on a merry chase from place to place. In hindsight, I was just trying to support my partner but it became more and more alarming with each year that passed. It changed from something enveloped in hard work to something abusive.
At the age of 28, everything came crashing down. The marriage ended, I sofa surfed until I returned home to my mum’s flat but I wasn’t the same person and I knew several things were out of place. I knew I wasn’t heterosexual or a man. I hated being a man. It disgusted me to my very core and still to this day makes my whole spirit clench.
What began was while working, I began to experiment with my gender expression. I slowly started wearing skirts, tunics and the odd dress to see how I felt in them, but it was still a private affair. Partners came and went, until my mental health cracked and I fell down a long crevice of depression.
Homelessness followed, therapy along with it and once again I held onto life. Suicide attempts followed, more sofa surfing until I finally found the words which unlocked things for me. Transfeminine and non-binary. Also pansexual or queer.
My world started to make sense, but I was still pulling myself out of the mire. I started telling my friends about where I stood. It didn’t feel like a big thing, but I was privileged to be in my 30s and it felt like an ‘inviting in’ than a ‘coming out’ where I was getting people to come closer to my truer self.
Plus I understand that life isn’t always static and that sexuality and gender can be fluid things changing over time. I just wish the world would catch up along with the laws for my trans siblings also.
So on this 50th anniversary of the Stonewall Uprising…don’t forget we all have journeys, be it ‘coming out’ or ‘inviting in’ make sure it’s all you.
Until next time, #embraceinfinity
