Cure me, I have Blue Eyes.

Cure me, I have blue eyes.

That would seem a random and silly request but is it anymore than the request in Dr Christian Jessen’s documentary “Cure me, I’m Gay”? For anyone who watched the documentary, it was truly shocking and heart breaking to see people wanting to be “cured” and the lengths they would go to. Why, in the 21st Century, is this is still happening?

The element of the show that upset me the most was the “gay-exorcism” taking place in East London. Built on the basis of religion, there was an “all-powerful” bald guy attempting to cure people on the spot of their homosexuality, whilst a vulnerable audience hung on his every word. Meanwhile in America, a group of “Ex-gays” demonstrated, whilst looking seriously unhappy and unloved, against gay rights. (I found myself sadly disappointed this group of ex-guys weren’t a squad of superhero mutants in the style of Marvel’s X-Men, but that’s another story).

Today I saw two things on Facebook that distressed me. A note from a dad to a son who’d tried to commit suicide, the note said “I wish you’d succeeded, I wish you were dead”. The other story was a mother punching her young son in the face when he came out. It might be the 21st Century but I can totally see why some people would want to be cured. Having those that love you turn on you is horrible.

So that’s them, what about me? Would I want to be cured?

I had a really difficult time in school, those people that know me know would be shocked to see the skinny and shy boy I was at secondary school. I was bullied, beaten and mocked for being gay and it upset me more because I wasn’t. I really, really wasn’t gay! One of the things that upset me, more than the insults and punches, was a situation that happened with my best friend Rajia. In school we often used to write our names on the others knuckles, like a temporary tattoo that showed our undying friendship to one another. One day, Rajia started dating one of the bullies that mocked and insulted me and I saw her hand had “is gay” written under where I had written my name. The fact that she’d allowed him to do that hurt me more than any punch I’d received.

It was a relief when I left school, I was no longer that bullied person as I could reinvent myself. I discovered nightclubs and made friends and the fact I could dance (Nope, still not gay) made me popular with girls. I was a bit of a tart and went home with girls at the end of a “successful” night out and the next morning I’d wake up and say “See I’m not gay……”

I then met a girl with whom engagement, marriage and a child followed but then suddenly my world crumbled. I came to the realisation I was batting for this team. There would be nights, as my wife slept, that I was be curled up by the bed, on the floor, crying “why can’t I be NORMAL”.

That’s a long time ago and here I am waiting to do a pile of ironing, whilst my husband is doing the weekly shop and our “kids”, our two cats are outside playing with their friend from opposite – another cat, whilst I shout at them to stay out of the road. Somehow my life has become “NORMAL!” When I come home from work. I don’t think my life is that different from my heterosexual colleagues, apart from the fact I come home to a man.

What is different is that it was a fight to get here, I was judged, bullied and despite how normal my life is, I’m aware things still aren’t equal. To anyone that is facing the internal drama of coming out, acceptance and the depression that can sometimes go hand in hand with being gay, the only thing I can say is “try and be true to yourself” and do try and google some of the videos from the ‘It gets better project” on YouTube, because it can get better. I promise.

Blogger ThatBaldGuyMK