The Clouds Roll In

Secondary school was somewhat of a shock to the system. I went from my small, safe village school to a large, inner city boys' school. Most of my friends went to different schools, so new friendships had to be forged and new ways of being had to discovered and refined. For the first time in my life I was suddenly on my own. Or at least, that was how it felt. Life became much more a game of survival. Now, before I go any further, please understand that I don't see my experiences as any better or worse than anyone else's. I'm fully aware that, for many people, school is a difficult time, for lots of different reasons and in many different ways. This is simply my experience, and how it's effects stretched into my adulthood.

From the moment I entered the gates I didn't fit, I was singled out as different. This is a dangerous time for anyone to be seen as different. To be honest, I was a pretty easy target. I was softly spoken, gentle in nature, and physically small. I was a long way from the laddish persona which was held up as the way to be, the way boys should be. It was quickly decided amongst many of my peers that I was gay. At this age identity is very much based in what you look like, sound like, and how you present yourself. Children are all too good at labelling one another, often negatively, and I wouldn't for a second suggest that I was not a part of this. Some may be 'ginger', others 'fat', or 'boffin', 'stupid', 'mental'...the list goes on. I was labelled as the gay one. I don't lay any blame on anyone for this, it was simply what happened.

Coming from my relatively sheltered background, I barely knew what this even meant at this stage of my life. It was perhaps my naivity which kept me from challenging this, or trying to alter this perception. The move had also knocked my confidence way down, so I felt paralysed to retaliate, or stand up for myself. The beginnings of secondary school are a key time in everyone's life, it's when most children are hitting puberty with a vengeance. It's when children are really beginning to discover who they are, and shape their very being. It's a time when 'fitting in' and image are vital. To be repeatedly told something about yourself, from lots of different voices, can have huge effects. It may be that a child develops a negative body image, which stays with them for years. They may develop negative behavioural patterns or coping strategies which act as protection at the time, but may be difficult to shake once they enter the adult world. Hence why, from an adult perspective when interacting with children and adolescents, praise and positive reinforcement is so vital. But voices from within their own peer group can be just as powerful, if not more so. For me, being told this one thing about myself every day for five years got inside me - I internalised my external experience of the world. In other words, I thought to myself, "Well, if all these people think I'm gay, and continue to think so, then maybe they're right." I took it to heart.

As I mentioned before, I grew up in a loving, supportive family, and my parents were always there for me. I was part of various youth groups outside school, some church-based, some not. Annoyingly, for reasons I'll perhaps never know, instead of using these supportive networks to work things out and discuss my growing confusion, I withdrew, I closed off, I compartmentalised my life. At home and at youth groups I was one person, and at school I was another. Looking back, there were lots of people, including my family, who I could have gone to, but I didn't.

The other huge issue for me was my faith. I grew up in a Christian home, and went to a Church youth group for many years. My experience of sex and sexuality was limited. I was essentially told that sex was something spoken about once, maybe twice a year at youth group, but it was all a bit shameful, even bad. For men, women were not to be objectified (rightly so), but this stance tended to be communicated in a way which suggested that all sexual desire is bad, unless perhaps in the framework of marriage, but this was still risky. So within this world, what about homosexuality? It seemed to be an absolute taboo. If it was mentioned at all, it was instantly dismissed as corrupt and sinful, and that was that. So there was no way I was going to bring it up. Instead I continued to keep my sexuality issues deep within me, where it was safe and no one need know. I again began to internalise, taking to heart that there was a part of me that was corrupt and sinful, which must never be spoken about.

I'd like to take a moment to point out that my parents (as they are the ones who often get the blame) were in fact very willing to talk about sex and sexuality, but I was a teenager for goodness' sake: talking to them was all terribly embarrassing and awful. But they did try!

So from the age of about 12, I began to live different lives. At home I was easy going, and somewhat superficial. I think it was around this time when I got adept at making others believe 'eveything's fine', carefully constructing inpenetrable walls, showing the facade which I felt people wanted to see. At youth groups and at Church I was outgoing and fun, always making people laugh (which is, by far, the best way to keep people at a safe distance). At school I kept my head down, let my peers say what they wanted, and tell myself it was like water off a duck's back. Then, in my internal world, in my head, I lived a life where I began exploring my sexuality, began looking at other guys in a sexual way, and finding this exhilarating. What better form of rebellion than one which is secret, kept in the dark, where it is exciting and powerful. I took on this strange victim mentality, whereby I said to myself, "They have no idea how close to the truth they are, and how tortured I am, woe is me..."

So throughout one of the most important phases of my life, the issue of sex and sexuality overshadowed pretty much everything. This isn't to say it was the only thing in my life - my teens were full of some of the best times of my life to date. I had great friends, pursued a huge variety of interests, started partying, etc. etc. But in my head, there was one constant. Looking back now, it's hard to think of a time when I wasn't struggling with my sexuality, but it was all kept close to my chest.

I think that's enough for now. Reading over this makes me feel depressed, and a little self-indulgent, so apologies dear readers. I promise that the next one will be lighter. Take a deep breath, and go and have a cup of tea or something. I'm fine. Everything's fine.

Stephen

Idyllic

Let me give you a whirlwind round up of the first stage of my life.


I grew up in the countryside, living with my parents and my older sister. My birth was traumatic (apparently), as I was huge and breech, and, it being the 80's, Caesarian wasn't an option. Once we were all home and that whole episode was put behind us, I turned into an amazingly attractive baby. By that I mean a bit fat. According to my parents I was laid back and relatively easy. Relative to my sister, who was a handful. In a good way. 


My memories of my childhood up to age 11 are generally good, to the point that I suspect I idolise that time of my life a little too much. In the summer I would be out all day, in the fields, the woods, and the country lanes from dawn 'til dusk, not seeing my parents for much of the day, returning only for dinner. The freedom was wonderful. The winter was taken up by staying with friends, making stuff, creating games, producing shows, and sitting by open fires. 


I went to the local village primary school, with a population of 85. This allowed me to really enjoy school, with a lot of play, presumably some work, and a scattering of Oscar-worthy productions (although I was never Joseph in the nativities. I was all too often a bloody angel due to my round face and white blond hair. What 7 year old boy wants to be an angel? Far out). It was in these times I fell in love with Anna. She lived down the road, and was so freakin' cool. We spent many happy hours roaring round the countryside, until her and her family moved away. I was devastated. We would go and see them sometimes, but this got less and less frequent. I've since told her (now that we're adults and I've managed to get over the heart break) how she broke my heart. So we're cool now.


Outside school I'd hang out with Greg, another Stephen, Lee: all local, and generally have a fabulous time. 


My parents were very present in my life, and very supportive. I really believe they did their very best, which is better than I could have ever hoped for. They provided for my sister and I, gave us a safe home in which to grow and learn, and showed us so much love, I honestly have no idea how they did it. I'm forever grateful to them for this wonderful start to life. 


Now, don't get me wrong. I know there must have been bad times, but they simply haven't stuck in my mind. (Aside from stuff like major injuries and the like.) Hence my nagging feeling of idealising. But is that so wrong? Does it change the way I view my subsequent years, constantly comparing them to these seemingly perfect initial years? Perhaps. But would I change it? No. I don't think I would.


In a way though, I'm not sure they prepared me for the real world, for the darker side of life. Life was a bubble; a safe, loving, fresh aired bubble. Sometimes I wish I could be back in that bubble, not have to face the crap that life throws: just race around on my ace bike, sneak on to the trampolines in the pub garden, play in the copse that was out of bounds, make entire meals out of play-doh, throw caterpillars, make up versions of hide-and-seek, create spy agencies, make Easter bonnets, use half the spice cupboard in magic potions, chase chickens, drink strawberry milk, and then come home for dinner, a hot bath, a story, and a safe bed. 


But that's not life is it? Damn.


Next time: Puberty. Exciting stuff.


Stephen

Beginning

My life is a mess.

When I say mess, it's fairly relative. I mean, how much of a mess can a middle class kid with a loving family, great friends, a place to call home, something of an income, and various creative outputs really be in? Sometimes I feel like I'm whining; stop me if, at any point, you agree.

Over the coming weeks and months, I will take you (and also me) on a journey, giving you the back story of my life to date, the ups and downs, the bumps and bangs along the way. I'll try to give a picture of why I feel like my life is in a mess, and, if all goes to plan, what I'm doing to bloody well sort it out. I want to figure out how I balance my faith, my dreams, my desires, my sexuality, my opinions, my thoughts, my actions, my social life, my career, and all the other parts of me bustling for attention. I promise to be honest, and to write about what is really happening. So I apologise in advance.

But it's late, so I'll start properly another day. But I've started right?

Good.

Stephen