To start off with I hate being gay! I hate the way that it’s seen and treated by some
people in a negative form. I hate the way that I’m expected to be either camp or
butch. I’m expected to love musicals, Cher, fashion, hate sports and spiders and all
the other stereotypical things that are thrusted onto the LGBT community, and to be
totally honest I am mostly these things. But at the same time I love being gay! I love
being different and standing out in the crowd. I love standing up for something major.
I’m drawn between the two on a daily basis. When I hear the homophobic bullying in
the street or from people in my own neighbourhood, I hate the fact that I’m gay and
wish I could be their version of ‘normal’. I wish I could walk without the mince, or
unintentionally mime and dance along to Britney whilst waiting for the bus to work.
Sometimes I sit alone and think to myself: ‘What would I actually be like if I were
straight? Would I have a girlfriend? Would I be any thinner? Would I actually be any
happier than I already am?’ Yet in the same day I can see something like my best
friend and her fiancé just being together and I realise that I’m proud to be gay. I like
being loud and proud. I don’t care what other people think of me.
But it’s always there. That nagging thought at the back of my mind, like when you
think you think you’ve forgotten something but you can’t think what it could be. It’s
always there hanging over my head. I’m not questioning my sexuality. I’m
comfortable in my own skin, I like being with men. Just hovering for the homophobes
to come back before it decides it wants to show up. Sometimes the thought does get
to me. Sometimes I do feel upset and think of that parallel universe where I’m
straight and gotten everything. The girls, the looks, just somewhere where I have IT.
And then I stop and think, ‘Why would I give up the everything that I have here for
some silly little dream?!’