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    northie
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Self-help - 1. My story

To come out is to make a personal declaration.

Maybe you’ll enlighten only yourself. Maybe it’ll become general news. Or, perhaps, you’ll choose to tell a select few friends or family.

Whatever happens, many queer people see coming out as their chance to live an authentic life. That it’s still a thing says a lot about the societies in which we live. Why should sexual orientation or gender identity be so defining? Is one set of characteristics really so much better than any other?

In an ideal world, it wouldn’t happen. Who you’d like to take to bed or how you see yourself would be choices for the individual (within certain limits, of course). In most societies though, it matters a heck of a lot. Deviation from the norm -- the cis-het imposed norm -- provokes a response. Yes, it might be positive. Even loving. There is still plenty of work for queer charities such as akt (Albert Kennedy Trust) though. When a young person, in particular, decides to act on who they are, the result can see them shoved out on the street, disowned by the people who should care for them.

Many people have the option to choose their timing; others don’t have that luxury. And there are some in the public eye for whom it appears to be an exercise in reputation management. Or enhancement. Whatever the route or reasoning, coming out involves an individual baring a part of themselves. A part which the cis-het majority don’t even have to think about because to them, theirs is the default setting. Maybe even the only setting.

In today’s world, to come out also needs knowledge. The knowledge to label yourself. To understand that label. Or indeed, to take the conscious decision to defy categorisation.

To anyone under the age of thirty-five with regular access to a digital device, the idea you might’ve had to come to your understanding of yourself in isolation, in spite of near total ignorance, is mind-blowing. Yes, the internet can be a cesspit, a never-ending cock fight, or whatever other descriptions you’d like to employ. It is also a revelation.

Anyone who is different can find information, kindred souls, help, and feel part of a community. It doesn’t matter whether you’re the only [fill in the blank] in town; there’s always going to be someone else out there. Someone to make the world feel less lonely and less strange.

I know this from recent experience. I lived that shit.

This summer is the third anniversary of me finding myself. My label.

You could say, it’s taken long enough.

Maybe that’s true, if only partially so.

I grew up the rural north-east of England in the 1970s. It’s a glorious part of the world, though hardly at the forefront of diversity and sexual emancipation. I spent my teens knowing at some basic, inarticulate level that I was different. Yes, I was a musician, a bookworm, and possessed the social skills of a hermit, but the difference extended way beyond that.

That amorphous gut feeling was never defined. Never given a name. Partly, this was due to a sexual ignorance which, I hope, is almost extinct nowadays. Even back then though, I think I would’ve recognised a straightforward attraction to either sex. OK, I might’ve had little enough idea what to do with that knowledge. Instead, everything was muddled, and I lacked any means to put it into words.

Looking back from a position of belated self-confidence, I ache for my younger self. For some people, going away to university or college can turn into a sustained period of finding out who you are. Discovering your identity, away from family and school and childhood experiences. It was so for me to a limited extent. However, my attempts at romantic relationships were scuppered by crippling anxiety. It’s difficult in the extreme to be receptive and engaging when you have no idea who you are sexually or why you’re attracted to a particular individual.

To know that you’re gay, or lesbian, or even trans is a certainty which can define your life. Knowledge is power. Knowledge is self-determination. At least that’s the theory. Yes, such self-awareness might affect your life in every-which-way. Some people find the clarity threatening or overwhelming. Others use it to come out and then wish they hadn’t done so.

On balance, to have these basic building blocks of your personality and self firmly established must, I think, be a positive move. Knowing who you are means you can interact with other people from an initial position of truth and confidence. It won’t necessarily make you a nicer person. Or someone who has to fend off hordes of admirers. It must give you a better chance though.

After having my own laptop and internet connection for several years, I started to explore online queer spaces. I felt drawn to them. If you’d asked me why, you wouldn’t have got a sensible reply. Because it feels right. Because this gets me off. Because there’s a connection I can’t find in my real life. These would have been some of my responses, and none of them really answer the original question. I still wasn’t in a position to do so.

Spring 2016 found me joining GA. Although its sense of community was welcoming and for the first time ever, I joined in, a growing sense of frustration clouded everything. What that frustration was rooted in still puzzles me a little. I was saved by a new friend who gently pushed me to write.

Writing can be an end in itself. Something that gives pleasure and a profound sense of achievement. And maybe, if you’re very lucky, an income. Turns out it can be a vehicle for so many other things besides.

When I was promoted recently to Signature Author, I wrote to the same dear friend. Here’s part of what I said:

That flow of words has... saved my sanity? It sounds hyperbolic, I know, but that untapping has definitely changed me in so many ways.

To possess the ring of truth, writing must come from within. I don’t mean it has to be overtly profound or wear the author’s heart on its sleeve. Good writing grows out of an author’s experience. Their worldview. And to have that worldview, you must first know yourself. Of course, you can produce writing without that knowledge. It’s more likely your readers will complain of cardboard characters though. Those ones we all know about with paper-thin emotions, inhabiting a two-dimensional world.

I find it cathartic to acknowledge elements of myself in my characters. Particularly things I’d otherwise shy away from or beat myself up about. To see these elements elsewhere (even if it’s fiction) is to see they’re part of the general human condition. Plus, if I have to get a character out of a corner, it may well be a solution I too would be sensible to employ.

Yet, one element, the most important, still eluded me.

Writers spend a lot of time wandering around the web, researching who knows what. A typical Ugandan man’s name. Attitudes to homosexuality in late Victorian England. Offbeat ideas for wedding cakes. Music for piano duets. Plus all the detours in between. If you’re anything like me, a lot of what you read and see online appears to seep into your mind like a weird kind of osmosis. It lurks in the background, awaiting its moment.

This is what happened one day in June 2019.

I was pretty much minding my own business at home one morning when a thought popped into my head. Not a question or a proposition or a ‘What shall I do today’ but simply a statement. A statement which answered so many questions. I remember turning the thought over briefly. More from surprise than anything else. It didn’t occur to me to question it.

Why? Because it felt so damn right. Because it gave me my label. Because I could now make sense of my world.

In this special anniversary year for GA, I can’t help wondering whether I would’ve found my own inner peace without this site and everything that followed.

Maybe. But then again, maybe not.

Thanks, GA, for everything.

Dedicated to the dear friend who received my coming out with his usual grace and humanity.
What does GA mean to you? I always welcome your comments. If this essay has touched you in any way, consider leaving a reaction, recommendation, or even a short review.
Copyright © 2022 northie; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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Chapter Comments



17 hours ago, Bill W said:

It's not an easy journey when you realize you're not like nearly everyone else. 

No, it's not. And if you don't fit within the then generally accepted queer categories, it's even more isolating. The last ten years have seen an explosion in general understanding of gender and sexuality with terms becoming part of everyday language which allowed me to find a label.

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4 hours ago, George Richard said:

Your story made me realize I haven’t really settled on a label and so I changed my profile to “still figuring it out”.

Nobody is under an obligation to apply a label to themselves. If you find one that fits, great. Otherwise, even finding where you think you are on the spectrum is an achievement. I'm glad my essay contributed to your inner conversation.  😊

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@Headstall Dear Gary, you can write comments of any length. I read them all. 🤨😄 As usual, people's contributions have been fascinating, and yours in particular. Did I think I was being brave writing this essay? No. It was more something of this sort had been brewing for a while. Scrabbling around for something to write after my main (supposed) entry took on a life of its own, this struck me as something different. An essay. Creative non-fiction. For the first time in an antho? 

I'm out in my online persona. Some rl friends realise I'm not straight and if they asked me, I'd say. But I don't think I'll ever tell my family. They don't know about my writing either because it's so inextricably tied up with who I am. 🤷‍♂️ 

13 hours ago, Headstall said:

Your essay, your truth, struck a deep chord within me.

Thank you. That's what I hoped for when I wrote this. 

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6 hours ago, Aditus said:

because I felt overwhelmed by the truth and how many parts resonated with me.

This essay is unique only because it is my story, and not someone else's. So many other queer individuals will have their own story to tell. Thank you for telling me what my story meant to you, Adi. It's the sort of response I hoped for when I wrote the piece. 

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11 hours ago, Aditus said:

I read your essay first, but I couldn't comment on it, because I felt overwhelmed by the truth and how many parts resonated with me. One sentece stayed with me: Because it gave me my label. Because I could now make sense of my world. 

Thank you for sharing, northie  and this isn't a mere phrase.

The same sentence resonated with me also when I first read this piece.  This is a powerful essay that describes not only their journey, but the journey of so many others.  While not the end-all-be-all, labels are important to help us find other individuals like ourselves, and that label can be extremely liberating.  Realizing you're not crazy... our feelings have a name and others feel them too... it's one of the most powerful things we can experience.   Some of us didn't have the terminology to describe our label during our formative years, so finding it now is so cathartic.  Thank you for expressing so eloquently what so many have experienced.  This was a perfect addition to the anthology, and I'm so glad you shared it with us.  Thank you.  Sincerely.  

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17 hours ago, Valkyrie said:

Some of us didn't have the terminology to describe our label during our formative years, so finding it now is so cathartic. 

I feel this more than anything else, I think. We forget sometimes what a profound effect modern interconnectedness can have on us. The internet has revolutionised the pursuit of self-knowledge. And rightly so. Ignorance is not bliss.

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Thank you, @northie for this beautifully written essay and for sharing your personal and difficult journey with such honesty. I can relate to a lot of what you said. I was plagued with uncertainty and confusion for longer than I like to admit before finally understanding and embracing my sexuality. I’m pleased you managed to find your label and an outlet for your talent.

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20 hours ago, Dodger said:

I was plagued with uncertainty and confusion for longer than I like to admit before finally understanding and embracing my sexuality.

So are so many people. It's one of so many things which can colour, plague, and sometimes warp a queer individual's understanding of themselves. Sometimes I think those who reach such an understanding should be congratulated. Or maybe I exaggerate... 🤷‍♂️🤨😄

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