
In my surfing the Internet to find thinks to talk about, I came across a column from last October on
The Journal, a news outlet based in Ireland, that hit a nerve with me since the author, like me had come out in mid-life. The title to this post is a shortened version of his column and to me, it underscored what coming out meant for me. Just finally being able to be myself and to stop playing a role on a stage dictated to me by others/society. Like the author (pictured at right), over time playing this imposed role just became harder and harder and led to my decision to either come out and face who I was and come to terms with it or end my life. From the e-mails I receive, I know many others are going through this struggle which is anything but easy. Yet, despite the difficulty of the journey, I remain convinced that the journey is worth it. To not undertake the journey ultimately is tantamount to giving up one's soul. Yes, there are times along the way where it seemed that a decision to remain in the closet would have been easier. But in the long run, if I had remained in the closet I would have slowly suffocated and likely have cause unhappiness to those I loved in any event.
Note: (i) how the author could not come out even to himself for many years - that certainly was my situation as well, and (ii) how getting in LGBT organizations helped in the transition. Here are highlights from the column:
SINCE COMING OUT, I have left my anti-depressants behind, travelled
the world, made lots of friends and, now – at the age of 68 – I would
have to say I am relatively happy. But it has been a long road and it
hasn’t been easy.
I was born in Mayo back in 1945, when Ireland was a very different
place. I went to a small school in the countryside, then on to boarding
school, before joining a monastery when I was 18, where I stayed for
four years. I was very religious then, but decided to leave the
monastery to study English in UCD, after which I became a secondary
school teacher, and got married. At that stage, I was in denial about
my sexuality and couldn’t come out even to myself.
The marriage started off well and I loved my wife a lot – and still
do in many ways – but the fact that I was gay became something that,
increasingly, I could no longer ignore. I struggled a lot with that and
it caused me severe depression.
When I was 40, I went on a trip to Amsterdam, where I visited a
number of gay venues and felt totally at home. Only then did I actually
come out to myself and admit that I was gay. A few years later, I told
my wife – but I said I was bisexual to soften the blow, as a lot of gay
people do when they are coming out to their partner. We stayed together
for 10 years after that, but my depression became so severe that I had
to give up teaching, which meant I was at home doing nothing, and so it
became even worse.
Eventually, I became suicidal and was admitted to hospital in 1999,
aged 54. At that stage, I was experiencing total self-hatred but, while
I was in hospital, I got very angry and, to be honest, it was actually
the anger that saved me in the end. I realised that I had to be true not
only to me but to the world, and I decided that I deserved to be able
to live my life truthfully. I couldn’t take it anymore and my marriage
was annulled.
After that point, I was in a gay relationship for a few years, but it didn’t work out. I also started to work part-time in
Outhouse LGBT Community Resource Centre
on Capel Street in Dublin and, during the 10 years I worked there, I
met a huge amount people of all different ages and backgrounds who had
come out under various circumstances and in their own unique ways.
I
drew enormous strength from being around these people who understood
what I had been through and I learned a lot.
Looking back, there were three main factors holding me back from
coming out. They were: the danger of losing my family, including my
parents; the social situation of living in Ireland at a time when it was
not even legal to be gay; and religion. In that order.
Happily, I can say that, since coming out, my family – including my
two children from my marriage and my extended family in Mayo – have been
very supportive. As for religion, these days I would say I am a 100 per
cent non-religious and a 100 per cent believer, so faith is important
to me, but I’m not a practicing Catholic.
it’s important to realise that there is no ‘one-size-fits-all’ to
‘coming out’. Everyone is different. If you were to ask me to give
advice to people who may be thinking of coming out, I would say ‘Get
loads of advice and proceed with caution’. For me, however, I finally feel like me.
Some time ago I posted these lines from a Susan Boyle song, but they do describe the point that I have finally achieved after much struggle and plenty of turmoil:
And though I may not
Know the answers
I can finally say I am free
And if the questions
Led me here, then
I am who, I was born to be
We all deserve to be who we were born to be and no one has the right to take that from us. No one.