As coming out stories go I’m actually quite pleased with mine. It wasn’t planned to bring a smile to people’s faces but I’m glad it does.
Now I won’t bore you with details of the little country village I come from. Compared to where we all are now it always seems that our childhood town was small and remote. But of course it was a huge deal coming out to my little northern parents as it was for all of us.
So, it’s a sunny day in Blackpool (of all places!) I am 20 years old and here for the summer performing at the Opera House. Mum and dad have just helped me move into my grotty apartment on the sea front and now we are having fish in chips in one of the many “restaurants” around the town centre. I had previously decided that today was the day!
It felt like so many perfect moments were passing me by and I just couldn’t bring myself to say the words. “Mum, Dad I’m a big poofter!”
So the day passed and they were ready to leave but as I opened the door of my apartment to let them out I found myself slamming it shut again and bursting in to tears. What the fuck?! Oh my god I was actually going to do this! Needless to say, they were slightly shocked and worried at this point so I had to blurt something out quick.
“For the last 5 years I’ve been sleeping with girls”
Why did I have to say sleeping with girls?! I could have said dating, courting (well maybe not courting!), been going out with. But no, I went straight to the sex issue. Mum looked shocked and desperately tried to find something to say. I’m not sure if dad even heard, he hadn’t moved or changed his expression.
Anyway Mum did well and said some comforting things and then asked some sensible questions just clarifying that I was saying that I was gay. I have no idea what they were but I know she held the situation together and managed to gather Dad up and usher him out of the door.
Phew. Done. For some reason I was still crying uncontrollably. I do like a good drama, but I think that was 5 years worth of relief and tears of fear for the future. Being ‘Gay Daughter’ seemed to hold such connotations and awkward conversations ahead and there was no way back now.
So in the style of Home and Away I went for a walk along the seafront. I called an ex who was no help at all but it felt good to tell someone. On I walked feeling very epic in the late afternoon sun, watching the sunset (ha ha honestly who did I think I was?!) I walked through the town to get back to my apartment, still crying I might add, but luckily this was Blackpool, I didn’t attract too much attention. That is until a group of young lads drove past in a car and hurled a load of eggs at me!
One landed on my denim skirt and another smashed against my legs, honestly what a day! So off I went home (to clean up) and knocked on Ian’s door who lived downstairs. He came round for a cup of tea and to be a sympathetic ear and then he did the most amazing thing.
He picked me up and put me in my wardrobe!
“Come on”, he said in his broad Scouse accent “ Let’s be having ya”
And that was the moment when I officially came out of the closet.
NB Just in case any of you were worried. Mum and Dad were absolutely fine. They needed a couple of weeks to get their heads around it. It was 5 years ago now and my girlfriend has spent the last two Christmases with the family. I’m so pleased I told them when I did.
