THEGAYUK

Tag: Joe Writes Things

  • COMMENT | Am I suffering Gay Paranoia? Is it me or my sexuality?

    COMMENT | Am I suffering Gay Paranoia? Is it me or my sexuality?

    “LGBT people have to work harder to be listened to, have to work harder to get anything done and that is a sad fact of life as it stands”

    An old Stonewall campaign (C) STONEWALL

    I have not been the greatest member of the LGBT community.

    When I was in my teens and early 20s, I was privileged to be in very liberal environments. I went to a high school where I was the only out gay person and my degree was in the creative field. I was surrounded by like-minded and open-minded people. This led me to believe that talks of microaggressions and homophobia were exaggerated. I even wrote articles against allowing gay marriage in churches, questioning Pride parades and deriding camp men. I look back on that time with great regret and shame as, now I am older, I have actually studied LGBT history. I understand the plight of LGBT people around the World. And, on an increasing scale, I have myself felt the effects of subtle homophobia and microaggressions.

    It is difficult sometimes to try and decipher if how you are being treated is because of how you are acting or because of who you are. I often wonder if becoming more “woke” has made me hyper-alert, like I am deliberately seeking it out. I have experienced frequently in my work life, moments where I have felt dismissed. I have been told I am “emotional”, told to stop being “a diva” or called “sensitive”. Yet, I have seen straight male colleagues be treated completely different. I have never once seen two straight male colleagues have a heated debate and either of them be called “emotional” or a “diva”. I remember having a heated discussion with a senior manager at one company I worked at and I was providing him with perfectly logical information. He was having none of it, kept telling me I needed to “chill” and stop being so “sensitive”. I eventually phoned a colleague and explained what had gone on and then, when he arrived back to the office, I stood and watched him explain the exact same points to the senior manager that I had raised, who then wholeheartedly agreed and went ahead as I had advised!

    But here lies the problem; is it my approach or my sexuality? Nobody I’ve ever worked with in my entire work life has ever outwardly expressed homophobia. I have never been made to feel uncomfortable or unsafe. Yet, I have frequently found myself turned down for promotion, talked down to, dismissed and patronised. I am a very passionate person and, when I care about an issue, I express that strongly but I have seen other straight colleagues behave in a similar manner and they don’t receive the admonishment I do. I remember once having a conversation with a friend who said they felt LGBT people have a ‘chip on their shoulder’. It was a point, many years ago, I would’ve agreed with but now I completely disagree. You just need to look at what is happening in the world. Gay men are still beat up and abused regularly in the UK.

    In 2016/2017 there was a 27% increase in reported hate crimes based on sexuality from the previous year. That’s just what gets reported. I have had friends experience situations such as not being allowed in a bar because he was “too gay” or be yelled at when they held hands with their boyfriends. These situations are still very real. You have the President of the United States banning transgender people from serving in the Army. You have gay men in Chechnya being rounded up to be tortured and murdered. You even have people like Jacob Rees-Mogg being glorified on Twitter and lauded as a next potential leader because of how “quirky” he is when, in truth, he doesn’t believe in gay marriage. Is it any surprise we’re so vigilant? It is important to learn from the mistakes of the past to ensure that history is not repeated.

    I will never truly know if how I am treated is because of my approach or my sexuality. It is something I refer to as “gay paranoia”. The problem here is that I even have to wonder. It is 2018 and I have to actively be aware of microaggressions or potentially dangerous situations. LGBT people have to work harder to be listened to, have to work harder to get anything done and that is a sad fact of life as it stands. But how can we change that? The way I see it is that we must try and stand up to homophobia, we must celebrate our Pride and more importantly, we must vote and encourage our friends to vote. We must support pro-LGBT candidates in local and general elections.

    My dream is that the future generation never has to worry that they won’t even have a chance and that their ideas and ideals will be judged on merit and on nothing else. But right now, I am going to just keep learning and keep hoping. I am also going to do my best to check my own privilege especially in comparison to other LGBT people, particularly Trans and BME LGB people, and just hope to see change in my lifetime.

    I am inspired by LGBT youth and LGBT activists of today who heroically stand up for what is right. Yes, I have been a poor advocate in the past but I plan on making up for it for the rest of my life.

  • COMMENT | Tory and DUP? Not so much a Coalition of Chaos but a Partnership of Peril

    Right now my eyes are tired and my heart is heavy. I stayed up all night Thursday, watching until the early hours as the results rolled in. The exit poll told us we’d get a hung Parliament but I was willing it not to be true. The votes rolled in and it all became clear; Theresa May had failed but so had Jeremy Corbyn. Let’s get this absolutely straight; Corbyn has revolutionised the Labour Party and has mobilised a generation, but he should not be taking this a win. Labour lost. Conservatives lost. Now Britain has lost.

    It’s probably easy for me to be accused of being dramatic but I had outlined clearly my views on why Labour were the right choice. But it needs to be unequivocally clear; what we’ve ended up with now is dangerous and terrifying for LGBT people. Theresa May has decided to get into bed with the DUP. This is not so much a Coalition of Chaos but a Partnership of Peril.

    But why? Let’s look at the anti-LGBT viewpoint of the DUP. In 2005, during a Hustings event, one of their candidates said “You don’t bring a child up in a homosexual relationship. That the child is far more likely to be abused and neglected.” The DUP at the time said that Jim Well’s views were not their policy but just look at First Minister and DUP leader Arlene Foster. The Irish Government were poised to lift, by a minority, the ban on Gay Marriage. Arlene Foster introduced a Petition of Concern. This is a controversial mechanism in the Irish Assembly which means that, if submitted, proposed legislation must receive at least 60% of the vote and 40% of Nationalists and Unionists must also be present to vote. Arlene Foster knew this would kill the Pro-Same Sex Marriage legislation out of the gate.

    That’s just their leader in Northern Ireland. Their representative in Westminster proposed an introduction of a “conscience clause” in the Equality Act 2010 to allow businesses to turn away LGBT people on religious grounds. This man is a Party hero.

    And what about Equality elsewhere? The DUP played a vital role in continuing to restrict Abortion Rights in Northern Ireland. The DUP are anti-abortion even if the woman has been raped, a victim of incest and even if the foetus won’t survive the birth. This is despite a Court ruling which said the ban was against Human Rights.

    So here we are now with Theresa May who has publicly declared she would “rip up” the Human Rights Act and increase surveillance on the Internet. Sure, I am all for doing our best to battle against Islamic Extremism and Radicalisation online but you know exactly what’s going to happen. They’ll start asking Internet Service Providers to keep a database of our search and browsing history. These databases will inevitably be the target for hackers resulting in millions of people’s private searches being released. What about those in the closet? And hell, what about those people that are into the kinky side of sex? I can see it now; teachers and doctors, Police and Fire Officers being struck off after their private and intimate lives are leaked online. LGBT people hiding in fear of being exposed. You only have to look at the recent TalkTalk hack to know how lax ISP security can be.

    This is why we need to get over our heartbreak and sadness about this election and actually do something. We need to mobilise even more. I do not want to hear nonsense about Jeremy Corbyn and his leadership dominating the Labour Party for the next ‘x’ amount of months. The Labour Party must now focus on strong opposition. And we must join them. I will be re-joining The Labour Party and their efforts to oppose our Government. I will sign every petition and participate in every march because now is not the time for complacency. As we head into the Pride months as we celebrate by waving our flags, kissing our partners and living our free lives we must remember the activists of our past. They did not lay down their lives for us to stay behind our keyboards and allow our Government to steamroll over years of progress. And it isn’t enough for us to only turn up to LGBT events. Our country’s women will need us too.

    So I beg of you. Take this weekend to grieve the loss. Cry to your friends, ponder the future and hashtag your anger. But when it comes to Monday, it is time to clock back in. Your country needs you, your Community needs you, this world NEEDS you. We. Will. Rise.

     

    Opinions expressed in this article may not reflect those of THEGAYUK, its management or editorial teams. If you’d like to comment or write a comment, opinion or blog piece, please click here.

  • COMMENT | I’ve swung… From Conservatives to Labour

    Election 2017 – Good Luck… and Don’t F**k It Up

    This is the biggest election of my generation. We’ve heard this a lot and it’s mostly been attached to the Brexit negotiations coming up but that isn’t the only reason. Truth is, the country has never been more divided than ever.

    In the last election, much the chagrin of my friends, I voted Conservative. I had read every manifesto and watched every interview and debate. Far from feeling “Con-Demed” by the coalition, I was impressed with the Conservatives’ move to the middle. I am a young professional, not earning a massive amount and still renting without hope of getting on the property latter any time soon. It felt like Ed Miliband’s focus was only on those in poverty. It seems selfish, written down but that’s how I voted; on what party I felt would help me but also help the country. I voted believing the Conservatives would represent everybody.

    What ensued was austerity and deep cuts. These cuts have left open wounds for our country that continue to bleed. The Conservative plan to invest in the NHS at the rate of inflation, allowing the NHS to find its own cuts elsewhere, turned out a disaster. The mere £8 billion investment had not been and still hasn’t been enough to keep up with growing demand with the Guardian reporting in March that “the number of patients not receiving treatment within 18 weeks of referral has gone up by 100,000 since January 2016” leading to the NHS scrapping the 18 week target for 92% of all patients in England “who are waiting for a hip or knee replacement, cataract removal, hernia repair or other non-urgent operation.”

    Then there’s the cruelty of Conservative welfare reform. After the May 2015 election, Iain Duncan Smith told a victorious Conservative Party Conference it was time to end the “something for nothing culture” they blamed on Labour. The result? People have died whilst on sanction and 52% of appeals by people who have been declared “fit to work” and had benefits slashed have been approved, proving the unfairness of the system. Now, sanctions were prevalent before the 2015 election and I could be fairly accused of ignorance on the matter but now my eyes are wide open. Let’s not also forget that, due to inflation and poor wage growth, the cost of living has increased leaving us shorter each month. I do not believe that being on benefits should be a way of life. I agree that a Labour Government allowed not working to pay more than working but what we have now is a system that treats all claimant as second-class citizens and, in addition, allows them to go hungry. The Trussell Trust’s recent end of year report was damning “Between 1st April 2016 and 31st March 2017, The Trussell Trust’s Foodbank Network provided 1,182,954 three day emergency food supplies to people in crisis compared to 1,109,309 in 2015-16. Of this number, 436,938 went to children.”

    If the NHS and the Welfare State don’t bother you, just look at the manifestos when it comes to equal/LGBT rights. Labour has an entire section dedicated to LGBT equality. The Conservative Manifesto doesn’t mention it once yet Theresa May felt it important to acknowledge her support of Fox Hunting. Whilst LGBT rights and influence has improved, no thanks to the Prime Minister’s poor voting record, we still have a long, long way to go. The Home Office reported in January of this year that there are 20 reported homophobic hate crimes a day in England and Wales. That’s only the ones that are reported. Yet the Conservatives feel no need to pledge support?

    I could go on and on about failings of our current Government and I am sure you’re saying “but what about Labour?!” The UK political system is sometimes frustrating. We are, realistically, a 2-party nation. I do not, in any way, agree with everything Corbyn believes. His party’s policies, in places, are much too liberal. His lack of charisma frustrating. And trust me, anyone like Diane Abbott (or, indeed, Diane herself if she returns from her period of ill health) as Home Secretary will be devastating to our international reputation. But I believe a Conservative Government will be more damaging. We cannot go on as we are with a Government whose focus is on the people who need them the least, at the expense of those who need them the most.

    Every election I have ever voted in, who/whatever I’ve voted for has won. I back winners because I back what I believe the country I dearly love needs. This Thursday, I back Labour.

    If you don’t agree with me, that’s fine. In this trying times, it is important to show the strength of our democracy. But there is no doubt that this election could be transformative no matter which Party you support. So please get out there, come rain or shine, and vote.

     

    Opinions expressed in this article may not reflect those of THEGAYUK, its management or editorial teams. If you’d like to comment or write a comment, opinion or blog piece, please click here.

     

  • OPINION | Religion Can Have A Place In Politics

    “Tim Farron is a homophobe”. At least, that’s what has been blowing up Twitter the past few days.

    This is due, more recently, to him again dodging a question about homosexuality from Cathy Newman on Channel 4 News and whether or not Mr Farron believed it was a sin. His response was about as reassuring as your one night stand telling you it’s “probably not chlamydia”. He paused, grimaced and managed simply to say that he wouldn’t make theological pronouncements. Cathy Newman was asking him because, after asking the same question in 2015, he responded: “in Christianity, we’re all sinners”. Bravo. This doubling-down on avoiding the question led to a big debate about the importance of one’s religion when you’re running for office.

    But what’s the precedent on this? Well, Prime Ministers have always discussed their faith. Britain, by tradition, is a Christian country so it was always a political point to be scored. Tony Blair was famously religious and even admitted, during an interview with Michael Parkinson, that he prayed to God over the Iraq War. Yet, Blair is considered a Gay Icon and even won an award from Gay Times. Blair, as Prime Minister, ushered in a raft of LGBT-positive legislation such as civil partnerships, the right to adopt, the equal age of consent, the repeal of section 28, ending the LGBT Armed Forces ban as well as stringent hate crime laws and the Gender Recognition Act. Never once did the public consider his religious beliefs to be in the way of his progressive ideals.

    So let’s look at Tim Farron again. What is different between his awkward response to the gay question to that of Corbyn’s homosexuality-as-a-choice gaffe? Farron did an interview with GQ in 2015 where he asserted his viewpoint, despite his religion “I’m not a religious leader; I’m a political leader. I think that everybody is utterly equal. People should be free to love who they want and marry who they want. But I don’t go making theological pronouncements.”

    These days, we are all so quick to judge but it’s understandable. Heinous crimes have been committed throughout history against LGBT people on the basis of religion. We’ve seen in America the debate about same-sex marriage and how it’s not ‘what God intended’. Homosexuality as a sin is something that seems to be the only thing most religions agree on. Therefore, I feel like LGBT people almost have a Pavlovian reaction to religion – where we hear the word God, we assume hate will follow. But that isn’t fair. We have to accept that, sometimes, our politicians are allowed to change their minds.

    Look at Hillary Clinton who in 2000 commented that “marriage has got historic, religious and moral content that goes back to the beginning of time, and I think a marriage is as a marriage has always been, between a man and a woman.” Sure, she continued by saying that same-sex partnerships should enjoy the same rights but it still wasn’t out-and-out support that we saw from her during her 2008 Democratic nomination campaign and subsequent 2016 Presidential campaign. Tim Farron’s record is admittedly sketchy. He voted in favour of same-sex marriage but in 2007 voted against the Equality Act and in 2013 abstained from a third reading of the same-sex marriage bill. Also in 2007, he gave an interview to the Salvation Army’s War Cry magazine about abortion stating he felt, “abortion is wrong. Society has to climb down from the position that says there is nothing morally objectionable about abortion before a certain time. If abortion is wrong, it is wrong at any time.” However, he then said that, “the standards that define my personal morality as a Christian are not the standards of public morality”.

    This again raises an interesting question of how genuine someone’s belief in something needs to be. Tim Farron might be anti-abortion or even anti-LGBT rights but his party supports choice and supports LGBT equality. Should we trust somebody who only believes in something politically and not personally? Does it matter? Essentially, it all comes down to trust. Tim Farron’s personal beliefs right now have not dictated his political beliefs but, if he were Prime Minister, would that change? He would have to make big decisions where he would likely turn to his religion and to God, as Tony Blair did, for the right answer. Tony Blair always made it clear that he believed in equality. Tim Farron seemingly believes it’s the right thing to believe politically. There’s a difference.

    Well, it’s always going to be tough for LGBT people to believe a religious candidate is a candidate that would represent them. Yet, at the same time, it would be equally discriminatory for us to judge people solely on their religion.

    But what about religious politicians in general? Well, it’s always going to be tough for LGBT people to believe a religious candidate is a candidate that would represent them. Yet, at the same time, it would be equally discriminatory for us to judge people solely on their religion. Religion in the modern day is becoming flexible. The Pope himself has stated that ‘God is not afraid of new things’ and continues to try to modernise the Church’s views on homosexuality and divorce (despite hesitation of the Synod). We cannot put all religious people in a box but at the same time, we’re right to be vigilant. Decades of persecution on religious grounds has taught us to be hesitant when it comes to politics and religion.

    Tim Farron’s gaffe is no worse than Corbyn’s, personally, but the difference is that Corbyn has a strong track record of voting for equal rights. I strongly believe we must judge our politicians on how they vote more than what they say. I understand, it’s not nice to hear a politician to even hint that homosexuality is a sin, especially when you think about the effect it has on younger LGBT people. But the lip service politicians give for votes (where being ambiguous means they can play both sides) is different completely to how they ultimately vote in Parliament. When it comes to politics, actions always speak louder than words and it is vital that everybody research candidates and their voting stances because, ultimately, the biggest God any MP prays to is their electorate.

    If you want to see how your MP has voted on a wide range of issues, check out www.theyworkforyou.com.

     

    Opinions expressed in this article may not reflect those of THEGAYUK, its management or editorial teams. If you’d like to comment or write a comment, opinion or blog piece, please click here.

  • OPINION | When it comes to “Choicegate”, Jeremy Corbyn’s a Hypocrite, not Homophobe

    Recently Jeremy Corbyn gave a speech to launch LGBT History Month.

    Jeremy Corbin Garry Knight England CC

    In a barnstorming speech he discussed his history of standing up against LGBT persecution and how, though things have improved, we should never be too relaxed when it comes to fighting for our rights. Then, he ended his speech with this:

    “Our defence of you is a defence of all of humanity and the right of people to practise the life they want to practise, rather than be criminalised, brutalised and murdered, simply because they chose to be gay, they chose to be lesbian, they were LGBT in any form.”

    What followed was immediate anger from LGBT people on the left and on the right. The use of the terms “practise” and “chose” is something that can be quite inflammatory because that sort of language is often used by anti-LGBT people who seek to harm us via correction or conversion therapy as well as being the go-to phrase for bigots everywhere. So surely this means “homophobic” Labour Leader Jeremy Corbyn must resign immediately?

    No. Look, what he said was wrong. I am absolutely sick of seeing it being explained away as Corbyn ‘mis-spoke’ because he had his speech in front of him. He would of practised that speech, ran through it with his team and they would’ve all had input on it. He’s a politician, a smart man who knows the importance of words. This sort of language has a detrimental effect and, as Jeremy has realised, cannot be unsaid.

    I am not a fan of Jeremy Corbyn. I think he has destroyed the Party. However, this is a man who has consistently and unrepentantly voted in favour of rights and freedoms for LGBT people. He has supported everything from same-sex marriage to same-sex adoption. He continues to argue for the rest of the UK to get in line. He is not a homophobic man and it would be unfair to accuse him of being so.

    What he and his supporters are, however, are hypocrites. This is a man who has openly supported regimes in which LGBT people were persecuted. When he died in 2016, Mr Corbyn referred to Cuban despot Fidel Castro as a ‘champion of social justice’. Castro once referred to being LGBT as a ‘deviation incompatible with the revolution’. Castro bragged of his genius when setting up cruel work camps where many gay men, without so much as a trial, were sent with little food or water to work camps. They received telegrams telling them they’d been called up for service, only to be rounded up with other men like them and captured. How is that social justice, Mr Corbyn?

    In his speech which launched the aptly named ‘choicegate’, Mr Corbyn denounced the UK strengthening any relationship with other countries, particularly via trade deals, where the Government in that country were anti-LGBT. It was a thinly veiled and unsubtle reference to Theresa May’s recent visit to the US. Yet, Mr Corbyn was set to travel to Turkey in a pre-Brexit referendum speech where he was set to demand that Turkey join the EU. This visit and speech was scrapped in fears that it would give the Leave campaign more ammunition. Turkey is another country with a spotty LGBT history as its President, Recep Tayyip Erdogan, last year lambasted the Western world for prioritising gay rights and animal rights over the lives of Syrian refugees.

    Mr Erdogan said,

    “Shame on those who in the West divert their sensitivity to the so-called freedoms, rights, and law shown in the debate over gay marriage away from Syrian women, children, and innocents in need of aid. Shame on those who divert their sensitivities to the living space of the whales in the seas, seals, [and] turtles away from the right to life of 23 million Syrians. Shame on those who put their security, welfare [and] comforts ahead of other people’s struggle to survive.”

    LGBT rights and animal rights being treated as one of the same. Same-sex marriage considered a ‘comfort’. Yet Corbyn wanted them to join the EU?

    Jeremy Corbyn is not a homophobe. Choicegate is a complete storm in a teacup without measured debate. I do not believe he ‘misspoke’ but simply just didn’t consider the power of the language he was using. He is absolutely an ally and the LGBT community on both the left and the right would be wrong in attacking him as being anti-LGBT.

    Yet, my biggest gripe is that Mr Corbyn and his supporters are openly lambasting Theresa May’s relationship with Trump whilst they sit back and allow Mr Corbyn to praise people who have committed heinous crimes against their LGBT population. Trump recently reaffirmed commitment to President Obama’s 2014 Executive Order to protect LGBT rights in the work place and then swiftly leaked a proposed Religious Freedom Executive Order which allows LGBT people to be discriminated against by businesses and other entities based on their sexuality. Mr Corbyn would be absolutely right to say that, if the US Government does proceed to introduce anti-LGBT executive orders and laws, that the UK must strongly consider our relationship. But, in the meantime, he must also remember the old adage that one should get their own house in order before telling others what to do with theirs.

    Opinions expressed in this article may not reflect those of THEGAYUK, it’s management or editorial teams. If you’d like to comment or write a comment, opinion or blog piece, please click here.

  • COLUMN | It’s been 3 years since my last date… but I’ve found love

    A lot of my friends wonder why I don’t really date.

    I recently wrote about how I feel I’ve met my soulmate but it just wasn’t and still isn’t the right time for us. Is my hesitation to date some pathetic attempt to stop time, in hope that he changes into the man I need him to be in order for us to have a successful relationship? Or is there something deeper?

    Since he and I broke up, I have dated. My first date was with a French guy I had met on POF. He seemed nice enough when we chatted. When we met in person he asked if I minded running a few errands with him. It was entirely unromantic but I agreed. I instantly regretted this when we made awkward chat in a line at a Post Office. It was the depths of summer so I was sweating, my feet hurt and I felt instantly unsexy. We went for a coffee where he told me about how he hated most ethnic minorities and felt that most gays were a disgrace. Now, I hadn’t dated in a while so instead of listening to the voice in my head that was screaming “run”, I went back to his apartment.

    Now, I hadn’t dated in a while so instead of listening to the voice in my head that was screaming “run”, I went back to his apartment.

    His apartment was gorgeous with stunning views. We drank champagne and ate strawberries as the sun set. It was romantic and I melted as he told me how he missed home and missed his mother. It deleted all memory of that fact he was a racist, self-loathing homosexual. What can I say? I was fickle and horny.

    What can I say? I was fickle and horny.

    We eventually went to his bedroom where he suggested we shower. I found this sexy until he suggested we shower separately because it was a hot day and we’d been out all afternoon. Despite alarm bells now ringing loudly in my head, I waited my turn (that’s right, he went FIRST) and then came out in a towel only to discover he was fully dressed. I awkwardly went back into the bathroom and dressed also. We sat and watched a film for a while and then he started kissing me. I reached down to unbutton my shirt and he SLAPPED (PHYSICALLY. SLAPPED.) my hand away. “NO NO NO” he growled, “I DO THIS”. Every single time I tried to undress myself, he’d slap my hand away.

    After some very mediocre sex-adjacent acts, I excused myself to the bathroom. In there I noticed, sat on his bathroom shelf, was a tube of cold sore cream. I took a look at myself in the mirror and laughed. I darted out of there without so much as a goodbye. How did I let myself get into that situation?!

    Despite this, a few months later, I allowed my friend to set me up on a blind date. “You’ll love him, you have a lot in common” he smiled. I turned up to the date 15 minutes late due to traffic. I

    “You’ll love him, you have a lot in common” he smiled. I turned up to the date 15 minutes late due to traffic. I apologised a few times to which he yelled, “STOP F*CKING APOLOGISING”. Startled, I simply replied “sorry” which, admittedly, seemed a little sarcastic. Throughout the date, which was in the romantic Manchester hotspot Wetherspoons, he would avert his eyes to other men. A group of lads walked by our table and he checked them out.

    “I would, wouldn’t you?” he smiled.
    “You’re supposed to only be looking at me” I laughed, embarrassed that I had to remind him of that.

    The date continued in that vein. He told me he loved One Direction which wouldn’t have been a problem until he decided to start dancing to “Best Song Ever” which wasn’t even on the radio. “I know all the moves” he grinned.

    Eventually, we got into more serious chat. He told me he had been engaged 3 times (he was 24) and that the longest relationship was 2 years. I told him that I’d been in a serious relationship and was getting ready to date again.

    “HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE FER YER TO CALL SOMEWUN YER BOYFRIEND?” he bellowed, in his loud Yorkshire accent.

    “Um, probably 4 to 6 months” I replied, confused as to why he’d even ask.

    “TWO WEEK FER ME”, he grinned.

    Two weeks. I sighed, this clearly wasn’t going to be the love connection my friend had envisioned and I wondered how he’d got it so wrong. After he told me how he loves to watch his partners sleep, I made an excuse to leave.

    I called my friend in the taxi. “Honestly, I only spoke to him for 30 seconds but he said he likes wrestling and One Direction so…”. I made my unhappiness extremely clear.

    This was three years ago. I haven’t been on a date since. Am I traumatised by my experiences? A little. But the real reason is because, on each of these dates, I allowed it to go a little long. The French guy was an awful human being and the Yorkshireman was way too intense. Yet I stayed with them for hours. Why? I was weirdly grateful they’d even go on a date with me.

    I realised that I felt so bad about myself, about how I look and who I am, I was willing to put up with almost anything. My previous boyfriend always told me I was attractive and smart, beautiful and capable. He made me believe in myself. So without him, I crumbled. I needed to learn to believe in myself what he had believed in me. And that’s exactly what I’ve been doing. I keep working on myself and sometimes it works and other times I have set backs. But until I can truly learn to love myself, I cannot date honestly. I am willing to wait to find somebody who gives me what I deserve and who lifts me up. Because, as the great philosopher RuPaul Charles once said, “If you can’t love yourself, how in the hell are you going to love somebody else?”

    Now, can I get an Amen?

    Opinions expressed in this article may not reflect those of THEGAYUK, its management or editorial teams. If you’d like to comment or write a comment, opinion or blog piece, please click here.

  • COLUMN | What if you’re gay and conservative with a small c

    Politics is Gay – Why Being Gay Makes Voting Impossible

    As I have gotten older and educated myself, my politics has changed dramatically. When I was 19, I wrote an article arguing that gay marriages should not be allowed in churches because it wasn’t fair to the religious beliefs of others. I was, quite rightly, schooled by my peers on how ridiculous that was. I also received an email from a gay couple who, as Catholics, always felt marginalised by their faith and that they hoped to get married in a Church one day. So my viewpoint evolved.

    The recent US Election has led to pro-Trump people arguing that Trump is better for LGBT people because he’s always been pro-marriage and correctly pointed out that President Obama and Secretary Clinton were against gay marriage for some time. That got me thinking about how my politics has changed and how it’s difficult to always get it right. I wondered then, is politics lose-lose for gay people?

    I would describe my politics as ‘warped’. I don’t believe that immigration should be uncapped, I don’t believe in free movement of people and I believe the welfare state should be reformed. However, I also don’t believe in allowing people to suffer, I do believe in skilled workers emigrating to the UK and I also don’t believe that those in need should be left below the poverty line. A friend of mine annoyed at my viewpoint, told me that ‘liberalism isn’t pick and mix. You must pick a side’.

    Many would agree with him, argue that I’m wishy-washy but it’s hard for me.

    I wrote recently about my Diabetes diagnosis in March 2016. I was sick for six weeks prior to diagnosis and struggled to get a doctor’s appointment. I had a meeting with the lead GP who told me that the surgery was struggling due to an influx of Eastern European patients moving in the area. It was argued to me by some friends that the result of this influx should be more money into the NHS rather than blaming those who come here. However, I come from a small Cheshire town which is equal distance to Liverpool and Manchester that, due to a housing crisis in cities, has had most of its green belt land sold for housing to be build. There has been zero infrastructural investment in assisting with the influx of people to the town so now there are issues with traffic and public transport. For me, something has to give.

    But then there’s the gay problem. LGBT people tend to be liberal and progressive. We have fought for years for equality, fairness and respect. We tend to align ourselves with other marginalised groups that are also currently facing prejudice, hate and violence. It is, therefore, for me, a strong consideration in my politics. I am not middle class yet I am not working class. According to the BBC Great British Class Calculator, I am part of the ‘Emergent Services Workers’ class. I do, however, do better financially under a Conservative Government’s policy than a Labour Government’s policy. I live from wage to wage with little savings, little hope of owning my own house and a high rent bill. Yet, I also know that the Conservative Party has a sketchy history with LGBT rights. They are known as the party that brought in Marriage Equality but, actually, it was the work of the Lib Dems that helped usher that in.

    Interestingly, 126 Conservatives voted for marriage equality yet a total 134 voted against it.

    There were 35 Conservatives including current Chancellor of the Exchequer Philip Hammond who didn’t vote at all. However, it was recently revealed Justine Greening, Education Secretary, may be considering teaching inclusive sex and relationship education in schools which would, of course, be a major step after the dark days of Section 28.

    The Brexit vote was also difficult. As a gay man who was concerned about the economic implications of our future in the EU as well as the UK Sovereignty issue, I was also well aware of the EU’s role (especially in regards to Human Rights) in enshrining gay rights in the UK. So the real question here is how far do you let your gayness eschew your political view?

    Should it be the leading factor in making your mind up?

    I am not affiliated with any political party but, as I get older, I become increasingly political. The election of Donald Trump worries me less than the ascension of Vice President-elect Mike Pence. Pence is staunchly anti-Gay and believes in gay conversion therapy. He also thinks LGBT people should be allowed to be discriminated against based on people’s religions. So, you can imagine my horror when Boris Johnson recently doubled down on how much he’s looking forward to working with him.

    The future of LGBT rights in the UK is also something little discussed as we head further to the March deadline for triggering Article 50. Whilst it’s comforting having an LGBT person as Equality Minister (Justine Greening, who is also Education Secretary as noted above) it is vitally important that the UK continues to ensure LGBT rights are protected and make a commitment to that prior to us leaving the EU.

    I am a man divided. I am conservative (with a small ‘c’) when it comes to many things (I am even for the Buckingham Palace refurb!) but I’m also widely liberal. I am concerned by levels of immigration but even more concerned for those who are persecuted in their own countries to the point of violence.

    I stare in abject horror of images of gay men being thrown from buildings. My heart breaks to hear of disabled people dying due to poverty caused by welfare cuts. I feel unrepresented by modern politics and every election seems to offer me a rock and a hard place.

    Do I vote as a citizen or do I vote as a gay man? Either way, to me, it’s always lose-lose.

     

    Opinions expressed in this article may not reflect those of THEGAYUK, it’s management or editorial teams. If you’d like to comment or write a comment, opinion or blog piece, please click here.

  • Column | The Burden Of Survival

    When you hear of somebody surviving an accident, recovering from an illness or defeating odds there are always the same buzzwords. We say we are blessed or thankful or grateful. Those who enquire get regaled with the story of our hurdles as people earnestly hold our hands and thank God for your still being on Earth. The one word you never hear mentioned is ‘burden’.

    When I was born, the doctors immediately knew something was wrong. My body was contorted, my ear was deformed, my foot was clubbed to the extent where they had to immediately cut my hamstring to loosen the tightness. I was operated on as they battled to save me. This deformed boy and his twin sister. My sister recovered quickly from the harshness of a caesarian section but for me, it was just the beginning. My parents sat, solemn, as they were told the boy they dreamed of would not be long on this Earth. He would never walk, talk or crawl. They sat frozen, as they were told I had a two year life expectancy.

    Then my third birthday came. And I could crawl, I began to walk and I could talk. My parents, like others, believed it was a miracle. They believed that God had shined a light on their son. They sat, operation after operation, wondering if the miracle would finally run out. Like they were in a pay and display parking bay and the metre was near empty. But I would return. Scarred, sure, but alive. The miracle kept on being a miracle. And so the baby became a child, whose parents were told would never be able to feed himself, began getting good grades in school. My parents looked on in proud amazement with each examination certificate, each award, each monumental step they thought they’d never see. And with this came the burden. To always do more and be more. Their child, their miracle.

    My parents never put this pressure on me. Nor did anyone else. But boy do I feel the expectation. You begin to feel invincible. I have been through operations where I have flatlined on the table, where they once intubated me with such force it pushed my teeth forward requiring braces. I have felt the grip of asthma, cruelly squeezing my lungs of their last breath. I have overcome so many hurdles, and it’s hard not to think there’s a reason. I don’t believe in God but how many times does one person get to cheat Death? To defy the odds? But with each time, the burden got greater. The burden to be something that makes a difference in the world.

    This ambition has led me down so many paths, has forced so many mistakes. It has seen me desperate for affection and make some poor decisions, just to be noticed. I want to believe that me being alive makes a difference in the world so that, if the miracle runs out, it was all worthwhile. So every misstep hurts that little bit more. Coming out as gay hurt a little bit more because it felt like I was disappointing others. It makes me give things up way too soon because I constantly feel like I’m running the clock. That I have to get to some sort of finish line.

    I believe that I have met the true love of my life. He felt like the missing piece, my true second half. But he came with his demons and I tried to stand by him but when it looked like our relationship wasn’t going to be PERFECT, I backed off. I began to grow tired of his low moments, I grew angry that he didn’t have the same ambition I did. He wanted to be happy but he had his own battles to face, so he wasn’t. My need to both be the best boyfriend and HAVE the best boyfriend added pressure. It pushed him away. And now I struggle to even date because I don’t believe anybody could match him in my mind or my heart.

    Then, in March, I almost died. It was discovered that I was a insulin dependant Diabetic. My Doctors had confused the symptoms for a stomach virus and my body began shutting down. I was told I was around two days away from death. This has added a whole new aspect to my life. My body is black and blue with the bruises from injections. My fingertips glow red with the endless pricking and drawing of blood I have to do. And I’m exhausted. Mentally and physically. This has broken me. People keep telling me that I’ll get used to it, that it’ll become normal but I implore them to try injecting themselves five times a day and feel normal. I am tired of having to be careful, frightened of what might happen. And then, there’s the burden. That I have been given the freedom to live, as long as I take my medication. Years ago, when Diabetes was unknown, people just died. It killed them fast. Now I have the responsibility of being grateful for the power of modern medicine. So when I feel down and exhausted, I feel ungrateful and selfish too.

    Nobody ever talks about the burden of surviving. But I’ve experienced operations and rehab, pain and heartbreak and near-death and recovery. And as I get older, the burden of survival somehow lessens. Because with each new day, life teaches me that I have no control over what’s going to happen. So the burden slowly chips away to reveal that, deep down, the only thing I need to feel is lucky. And all I can do is my best to remember that. To breathe in and feel the air in my lungs because no matter how I feel when I wake up, I must always try to take a moment to feel blessed, to be grateful and to give thanks. Because, the crux of it all is: I’ve survived.

    Opinions expressed in this article may not reflect those of THEGAYUK, its management or editorial teams. If you’d like to comment or write a comment, opinion or blog piece, please click here.

  • COLUMN | I’m like Trump… When people probe me… I Lie

    In Gay We Trust: The Vulnerability Of Living Proud

    Lao Tzu once said that “he who doesn’t trust enough will not be trusted”. He focussed on the importance of a mutual trust, an understanding, that for people to be open to you, you must equally be as open to them. But when you spend your life lying, and eventually get burnt, how can you ever open up again?

    Being “in the closet” is how every not-out gay man is referred to. This metaphor that says you’re hiding secretly away, watching through the gap in the doors, waiting to see when it’s safe to come out. The reality is much more different. Not being out is like being trapped in your own mind. I remember it clearly; the fear that you’ll let slip, that you’ll say the wrong thing or something will give you away. I remember going shopping with my family, fearing the self-checkout will scream out “unexpected homo in the bagging area”. It was a lonely time, a time of isolation. I was out to all my friends in school but I lived in fear of word getting back to my parents. I’d place trust in “friends” who eventually would spread word until everyone knew I was gay.

    My parents would ask me leading questions. I think they’d always known I was gay. Instead, I learned to lie. I would tell people I wasn’t gay and, selfishly, would get girlfriends to prove I wasn’t. The problem is, the more often you have to lie, the better you get at it. The lies were helpful to me when I broke up with my first boyfriend. My entire world had torn apart. I would cry every night, I couldn’t concentrate in school. Seeing his face every day as he sat opposite me was like a dagger inside. I had nowhere to place my hurt, my aggression or my confusion. But I couldn’t turn to my parents because then they’d know the truth about it all. They’d know I was gay, they’d know I had a boyfriend and that I hid it from them.

    When I eventually came out to my parents, things weren’t easy at first. Although I believe they knew, they struggled with the revelation and what it meant for my future or at least, the future they’d always imaged for me. Eventually, they got over their hang ups and are now incredibly supportive. They now want me to be open to them, to tell them about my life but I’ve spent so many years hiding it from them, even now I struggle to open up. I’m constantly asked about my love life, who I’m dating or what I get up to but I find myself shrugging it off out of a reflex action. I grew up in a society where being gay was negative and that you should tell no-one. You don’t just get over that. The problem is, when you can’t tell your parents what is happening, you end up raising yourself when it comes to certainly subjects. I taught myself about flirting, falling in love, break-ups, sex and safety. The difficulty being I had to learn from my mistakes. It hardens you, it makes you closed off and invulnerable. So, when you’re 26 and people tell you to open up more, it’s difficult.

    I am honest about superficial things. I talk openly and, somewhat graphically, about sex. I joke on Facebook about my ‘sad’ life. But I’m very rarely vulnerable. At 26, I have had 3 real relationships. My trust and my heart has been broken each time. I’ve had friends betray me, even recently. With every betrayal I face, the higher I build my wall. I’m like an emotional Donald Trump. Instead, when people probe me about how I am, I lie. In March, I discovered I was a type 1 diabetic. I discovered this by being rushed to hospital and told I was two days away from dying. I have spent months learning to deal with injections and appointments, risks and dangers. Yet, if you ask me how I am, I’ll probably tell you I’m fine. I’ll smile, make a joke and let you get on with your day. Because that’s what I do. Because if I tell you the truth, if I make myself vulnerable, it’ll just be a case of ‘when’ and not ‘if’ you betray me.

    The close friends in my life have had to give so much of themselves to me before I could let them in. They’ve had to be patient and kind and so vulnerable themselves. I know everything about my close friends and sometimes it can seem like I’m trying to get ammunition on them. When I feel ready to get close to someone, I ask to hear their secrets. I probe them about their lives. Because the truth they speak and the vulnerability they show is the only thing that can thaw the ice inside me. For months, they are very patient and slowly, I can allow myself to be vulnerable.

    I want to think it’s not too late for me to learn to trust more but I fear ever being considered naive or to place my trust in people who don’t deserve it. My first boyfriend got himself a girlfriend. My second boyfriend told everyone I had made the whole relationship up and the third one ran away with the circus (a whole other article, I assure you). Each of these moments, so pivotal in my life, added another brick to the wall. I just hope that some day, as the scars of my past fade, I’ll learn to trust again.

    I am no longer the closeted gay boy fearing being outed. I am a grown man who needs to learn to open up. I believe that pride comes before the thaw, that to be vulnerable and honest, to be truly myself is not proof of my naivety nor any emotional stupidity but is simply what it is to be human.

    Opinions expressed in this article may not reflect those of THEGAYUK, its management or editorial teams. If you’d like to comment or write a comment, opinion or blog piece, please click here.

  • COLUMN | I don’t need Pride to be Proud

    COLUMN: Pride & My Prejudice

    I have never been to Pride before. Any Pride. I’ve been asked, even had an offer to buy my ticket but I have just never really fancied it.

    Originally, it came from internal homophobia. I used to tell myself when I was younger that Pride was a ridiculous idea. I was blinded to the fact that homophobia and transphobia is a daily occurrence, I had never truly faced “real” homophobia, the kind that makes it into the papers. My mind naively threw a filter over the micro-aggressions I hadn’t then realised I faced every day. “They didn’t mean it like that”, I would tell myself despite knowing, deep down, that I felt uncomfortable or hurt for a reason. Even as the years grew on, I never cared much for Pride. I felt it was just a massive party rather than a social message. So what was the point in going?

    Then Orlando happened. And in the days after I attended an event that opened my eyes. Together, hundreds upon hundreds of LGBT people and allies held hands and created a chain around the entirety of Manchester’s Gay Village. I stood with them, I consoled others as they cried, the idea of something so heinous being too much for anyone to process. Then I heard the thunderous speeches from community figures, heroes and activists whose words hit me hard, like a train, waking me up to what had previously blinded me. I got lost in the beauty of the candlelight vigil, the flickering of the flames danced defiantly, refusing the be dampened by the rain. I realised then that we were indeed a community and that Pride was still intrinsically vital and felt shameful for my past judgement.

    When this year’s Pride rolled around, I was still on the fence. I am not a person who enjoys nightclubs or crowds. At 26, I feel I have seen and done everything that can be seen and done in gay bars. I had a wild time when I was younger and I enjoyed it but now I am easily bored and would rather be at home or in a pub having a laugh. The samey music, the awkward dancing… the entire thing just gives me anxiety. But in the back of my head was a nagging feeling that this year, I should go. That I should give Pride a chance. To make up for those times I disparaged it. The guilt won, and so I bought my ticket.

    The first night was fun but I got far too drunk during pre-drinks. It was Day 2, on the Saturday, where I came into my own. I was merrily and, this time, appropriately buzzed, surrounded by friends.  I wandered the street. I saw men openly kissing, I saw people dressed in leather, even dressed as puppies. Drag Queens roamed, their unmistakably fabulous cackles echoing around Canal Street’s historic alleyways. The floors vibrated gently thanks the collective thump of the surrounding music. I could feel it in my toes. And so my heart swelled. In the face of everything, here we were, partying. Come as you are, warts and all.

    In one bar, I got talking to some friends about our first relationships. We all had a similar story. Aged between 13 and 15, our first boyfriends were mentally and sometimes physically abusive. They were supposedly straight and, in their confusion, lashed out at us. We talked about how deeply those relationships had shaken our trust, our self-esteem and our belief in love and what is acceptable. We wondered if we allowed ourselves to be in these relationships because, at the time, we weren’t taught anything else. We couldn’t speak with our parents because that’d mean coming out, we couldn’t speak to our friends in case they exposed us and so, instead, we stayed with the people we thought loved us, even though they hurt us. For us then, it was the only way to feel accepted.

    Yet, there I was, 13 years later telling this story in a gay bar. Surrounded by happy, proud gay men. I looked around and wondered how many of them had the same story as my friends and I. How many broken people arrived and, piece by piece, were mended by this community? I relished in every opportunity to flirt in a queue, to catch the eye of a cute guy without fear. I felt empowered.

    Still, I feel that this will likely be my first and last Pride. Pride is, indeed, a big party and it’s essentially endless drinking for days. The clubs didn’t allow anybody to take their drinks outside after 11pm so there was no respite from the punishing Bank Holiday heat, the temperature rising with every additional body that entered the club. The crowds were spectacular and would snake for miles, everyone packed together. It was a level of intimacy I’ve never found comfortable. I am a man of simple pleasures; a book, a TV show or an in-depth chat. I feel my days of twerking and sweating in a heaving gay bar are over. It is time for me to sashay away.

    Although my club days are numbered, I am still full of love for Pride. It made me forgive myself for my earlier prejudice. It made me proud to be gay. As I walked to get my Taxi on Sunday, bidding farewell to this spectacular festival, I couldn’t help but smile, thinking of the memories I had made in a short weekend. Not a single person within the cordon cared about how they were dressed, who they loved and who they were. I looked back at that special place, sacred, its magic power to heal the wounds of pain and injustice.

    So, sure, I may not be present next year, propping up the bars and wandering the streets but I promise this, every single year, month, week and day of my life; I will still be filled with Pride.

  • COLUMN | The Pursuit Of Happiness Is Gay

    COLUMN | The Pursuit Of Happiness Is Gay

    There’s a well-known phrase in America; “Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness”. It was written in the Declaration Of Independence as basic rights for all Americans.

    CREDIT: Alen-D / Big Stock
    CREDIT: Alen-D / Big Stock

     

    The truth is, they hit the nail on the head. It’s what we all want in our lives. We’re always on the pursuit of happiness. But what does it really mean, to be happy? And what if we get lost along the way?

    The truth is, I’ve been unhappy for a long time. Something in my life isn’t right. My career isn’t going how I hoped and I’m stuck in a place I don’t want to be. But the pursuit of happiness often makes us make bad choices. Snap decisions that we may just later regret. But isn’t that worth it? Is it worth doing something that goes against normal judgement for just a little period of joy?

    And on this pursuit of happiness, what exactly are we aiming for? Nobody can be happy all the time, so then what are we pursuing? Is it all just a myth?

    Perhaps happiness is just the thing we tell ourselves we want because we actually don’t know what we’re aiming for. Perhaps it’s just this thing people create, this elusive feeling that maybe, just maybe one day we’ll be “happy”.

    Now, I’m not a depressive. I know I’ve been happy before. Truly happy. I’ve had loves in my life that make me happy but I’ve never been totally happy. There’s always been something at the back of my head screaming that what I have isn’t enough. I’ve heard people say that they’re blissfully happy.

    I don’t think I’ve felt that.

    I’m not a Debbie Downer, my life isn’t intrinsically terrible it’s just, there seems to be a hole in my life that needs to be filled (mind out of the gutter, people).

    My life hasn’t been terrible. I’ve experienced more in my 26 years than most people have in their lifetimes. I’ve experienced different cultures, I’ve experienced great food and great sex (sometimes at the same time), I’ve experienced great success, I’ve been whisked off my feet and had great, enduring romances. Yet here I am at 26 and I feel burnt out. Exhausted. Like somebody has suddenly put the emergency brake on my life and I can’t get moving again. I feel trapped, stuck and I can’t see the road ahead. I know I’ve got my whole life ahead of me but I’m looking out into darkness. Happiness seems distant. I’ve lived a great life but I’ve had to battle for all that I have.

    Battling anxiety, fear, heartache, grief, anger, sorrow… like so many people, really. I guess right now I’m throwing a pity party for one. I’m not looking for sympathy or words of comfort. I’m not depressed. And the comforting thing is, I believe that I am not alone in my thinking.

    In The Man Of La Mancha, Don Quixote sings about ‘The Impossible Dream’. It’s about dreaming big and aiming high and fighting the odds. We are a generation that has grownup being told that we can achieve whatever we want to achieve. No child gets left behind. Education, education, education. We’re all about aspirational living.

    The problems with great aspirations is that they create great expectations. That’s how we end up with a disillusioned lower and middle class, wondering what time their boat into the sunset is going to turn up. When you grow up being treated like a Kinder Bueno, you really do start to think you can be whatever you want to be.

    So then we apply that to our relationships and we run ourselves into the ground trying to find “the one”. The “one” usually consists of a mental Dr Frankenstein-ing of different celebrities into the perfect man. We create a mould, the perfect image. Zac Efron’s body with Harry Style’s head and the sex drive of a porn star. This man never exists but because we’re told that we can be whoever we want and have whatever we want, we search relentlessly to find him all the while feeling that unhappiness and that loneliness.

    Our generation gets called the ‘Millennials’ or ‘Generation Rent’. We’re told we’re a nightmare to employ because we never stay put and we House of Cards our way through life, trying to climb the ladder. And who can blame us? We’ve been told for so long we can have it all and then, when we try, we get told to stop trying to have it all.

    That life isn’t perfect.

    But, by then, admitting that feels like giving in. Like settling. So what do we do? We keep going, keep striving.

    Theresa May even spoke to that when she declared she’d do more to allow every person in the UK to achieve their “God-given potential”. But when you’ve got a whole generation of people striving for more then you can’t be surprised when they’re not happy with what they’ve got.

    For gay men, this is even more pressing. We are a community obsessed with age and wealth. So we strive harder, to ‘make it’ quicker. And let’s face it, we have to make ourselves happy in a world where the odds are still against us. Where we still fight to claim our place in the world. So we want to stick it to those who try to push us down by pushing back, hoping our success and happiness will be our revenge but with that, comes the weight of the world.

    “Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness”, basic rights afforded to all Americans. They believe that one day we’ll all find happiness because, for them, that’s the American Dream. The thing about dreams is, sometimes you just have to wake up.

    The Pursuit Of Happiness, an American pursuit indeed. But I’m not American. I’m British. And, well, we go by our own saying; “life’s a piece of shit, when you think of it, everything’s always going wrong…”

     

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