I’m ummmed and ahhhed about writing this blog post.
I think people tend to know where I sit on certain issues. This month is Pride Month. For many people it means a great deal, for me it doesn’t actually affect me a great deal. I’m not the sort of person who goes to Pride events as I loathe crowds and noise. This doesn’t mean that I think other people shouldn’t attend the events. It just means as a man in his fifth decade, I’m far more likely to want to watch Miss Marple and sip my tea. The party never stops at chez Talbot’s.
I steer clear of political points on here and indeed elsewhere. One day I’d love the month to be ‘Indifference Month’ where people no longer care who you love. I also understand the importance of letting people know that we are no longer ashamed of our lives. One of my former managers once said to me, ‘you know Steven, some of the people here don’t like you because you are not ashamed, they’re not used to being taught by a proud gay man.’ She then added, ‘and who gives a f*ck what they think.’ It’s something I’ve often thought about.
And yet… There have been instances where homophobia has arrived with a big crashing boom! Homophobia has knocked the wind out of my sails. As some of you know, I once had a learner write, ‘enjoyed the training, shame you’ve got such a poofy voice’ on the learner feedback form. This was many years ago and my manager at the time insisted on taking the matter further. I pretended that it meant nothing to me, that he was a ‘moronic oaf.’ But really, what I was thinking was, ‘why didn’t he like me? What could I have done to make him like me?’ ‘I thought my voice was a lot deeper now.’ Would I have simply discarded my values to win him over? If it meant he wouldn’t write something like that. At the time, yes, maybe. The constant need to be accepted and liked.
As I’ve stated, that was many years ago and yet something similar happened very recently. Twice in fact. I had one person on training who remarked to the person next to him that he ‘couldn’t stand me.’ I overheard this exchange and I think that was his entire point. To make me hear him vocalise his disdain. As a gay man, well, THIS gay man, I immediately assume, ‘oh he hates me because I’m gay.’ This may not have been the case. But because of that need to be accepted, to be admired, for people to see how much effort I put into creating and delivering training it truly stings when people reject my efforts. I then overheard him imitate my voice and that sealed the deal. That made me really rather angry, luckily, I believe what I teach and pressed the ninety second pause button. What was that feeling coursing through my body? Oh yes, defensiveness. So, I let it go. Shake it off. Who cares what he thinks? Out all of whom attended the training, he was the one solitary person not to complete the learner feedback form. He swanned out of the room and I was relieved to see the back of him.
In the space of one week, I then had another encounter, this time with a woman who arrived, as my Mum would describe as ‘having a face like a smacked arse.’ She folded her arms, refused to take part in one of the activities because it was ‘stupid and she was tired’ and again she felt the need to make some off the cuff remark about my being, ‘over the top’ and ‘giving her a headache with that voice.’ Of course, my mind immediately equates ‘over the top’ with ‘being too gay’ and ‘that voice’ with ‘you are not masculine enough.’ What was rather lovely was the reaction from the others in the class who remarked on how much they were enjoying the session. Some of the learners on her table actually physically pulled away from her. It was like they didn’t want to be contaminated by the mood hoover.
It was very telling, that on asking the group to pair up, no-one wanted to work with old sour face. Of course, there will be a reason for her demeanour and I killed her with kindness. There was no way I was going to judge her, I don’t know what had caused her mood that morning, or the reason why each time I spoke she rolled her eyes. Again, on completion of the feedback forms, there was one missing. Sigh… I do wish some people would have the courage of their convictions. Still, deep down I am only assuming she didn’t like this proud gay man at the front of the class, telling her how to do her job.
The problem that I have is that hours later, I find myself ruminating on these things. I say, ‘let it go’ and my mind goes, ‘nah, hold on to it, let’s allow it to fester in your mind for several hours.’ I’m fifty and inside I’m still the twelve-year-old boy who lost most of his male friends because I ‘talked like a poof.’ The teenager whose teacher told him to ‘get out’ because I was such a ‘gay boy.’ I’m still the bloke at university who couldn’t quite understand why none of the straight lads asked me if I’d like to live with them in their student houses. It was just a given that Steven would prefer to be with the girls. I’m still the bloke who is incredibly pleased when straight men welcome me into their inner circle. I’m accepted! Oh get a life Steven.
I was so very, very fortunate to be brought up by a Mum who adored me and set out to make me feel safe. She spotted from a very early age that I was a sensitive child and my Mum knew what that might lead to. She worried about me – as do all loving parents. She wanted me to thrive and to find love and happiness. She was always there for me, in both good and bad times and there have been plenty of both. Heartbroken at 25, thinking that I’d never get over the feelings of loss. The self-hatred I felt because I wasn’t good enough, slim enough, good looking enough, just not…enough. I recall my Mum, walking with me on a foggy October evening, sharing with me when she too was broken hearted, how that feeling can eat you up. And how the heart does heal… eventually.
I always knew that my Mum, the legendary Maureen loved me and was proud of me. She would do anything to protect her Steven. I miss my Mum each and every second of every day. I know that she would be proud of my business and the successes and I also know that she would repeat what Gill, my former manager said to me, ‘Steven, who cares what other people think of you.’ She was for more impressed with my authentic life and the fact that I’ve never apologised for being an out, proud, gay man.
True pride is knowing that you are enough, that you matter and that whatever others think of you, you deserved to be loved. So, here’s a happy Pride month to each and every one of you. As RuPaul himself declares, “what other people think of me, is none of my concern.”