Today I reached 50 years on this planet.
And boy, what a ride it’s been. I was born in Watford, England. Yes, the hospital overlooked the Vicarage Road Football oval so expectant fathers could smoke in the waiting room and watch a game while mums did their thing. The hospital no longer exists but the Watford Football oval still does.
From there, at the age of seven and with my sister, we moved to Australia.
Then the usual things happened, I went to school, discovered I liked kissing boys, and through high school and a couple of years of collage became quite the willing one for any guy who so much as batted an eyelid in my direction. Those were the heady days of youth, for sure. And yes, I practised safe sex, always have.
I worked in many, many, boring dead end jobs.
Now I run my own business, live in a nice house and do what I enjoy. I know that sounds all peaches and cream, but there were a lot of hard years. Despite my easy youth, as I grew up and started entering the adult world I discovered being gay wasn’t easy. Not at all. I’m not “out” to society or anyone really other than those I love. I don’t see why I should have to be. My sexuality is my own, and really, until straight people have to come out and tell everyone they’re straight, why should gay people have to? Why should straight be the default?
I don’t see coming out as a liberation, but a prison.
I’m waiting for the day when a boy can walk up to their parents, another boy or girl in arm, and no one even raises an eyebrow. The day all sexualities are accepted without question, conditions, or repercussions. Love is love, I truly believe that.
Anyway, tonight I’m going to a hotel with my partner for a few nights to wine, dine, and…well…you get the idea! I’m allowing comments again, but any hate and the post will be reported and deleted.