I used to think I’d scraped by without much discrimination.
Coming out wasn’t too rough. I copped the usual teenage taunts, but there was an element of academic snobbery at our school, which sheltered me somewhat. Uni was relatively uneventful.
A succession of sedate jobs and long-term boyfriends provided an emotional safety net. There’s a certain comfort in coming home to someone to share your ups and downs. I grew apart from most extended family, while others seemed pretty blasé.
I detest the expression ‘straight-acting’, so let’s just say I wasn’t exactly a walking stereotype. Until now. The older I get, the girlier I become. I don’t really know what that means. But I suspect the onset of Nannamentia.
It’s very sobering when you realise you’re not as accepted as you thought.
I’ve been cultivating frienemies and homophobes. Who knew! It’s comes with that sudden sinking feeling: ‘ahh, because I’m gay’.
Family members you thought were cool can be particularly disappointing. Familial homophobia is an insidious master of disguise. Often, they’re not even aware of it themselves. I’m lucky Mum listens to my woes. The poor woman could be on her death bed and still have time to surround me in positive qi.
Many will wipe you unless you serve a purpose. Most base friendships on what you have to offer. Maybe you share common interests. Or maybe they want to be seen with you. Any hiccups though, and just watch people flee.
A handful might stick around. These are your real friends. Get to know them; they’re a dying breed.
Excuse my cynicism. I don’t mean to be a purple pander. I’m jazzed for the insight, and the best revenge is living well. It’s all good, by the way; I’m not convalescing at the home or anything. No, nothing quite so flamboyant.
But enough of my drama. I’m cleansing my chakras. It’ll be so cool. Like Return of the Jedi. Only I’m not a Jedi. Time to purge the garbage from my life. And the homophobes will be the first to go.
Time to take out the trash.