MRShavershamsdress
VIP Member
Thank you for sharing that. It’s never easy. Many of us of a certain age have horror stories of homophobia. I was accidentally outed in high school by my own actions. My father gave me the choice of conversion therapy with a Christian therapist or homelessness. I was self aware enough at the time so I decided to play his game to finish my senior year. I left for university and never looked back. Mom kicked his ass to the curb my freshman year. I didn’t see him again until eleven years later when I identified his body after he drank himself to death. I loved my dad very much. After their divorce was granted I told him he’d made his choices and lost his oldest son as a result. We had a lot in common but he chose to succumb to his demons. In many ways it was my most hurtful experience with homophobia. My mom, brother and the grandparents were totally different. Their attitude was you’re family and we love you. So much so that my mom did have a history of calling before a big event to see if I was available for hair and make up, and maybe something sparkly from the drag bag. But the most horrifying experience with homophobia was the suicide of my boyfriend at university. We’d been together for two years. I moved off campus so we could quietly live together even though he still had a private dorm room. He was outed when his fraternity brother saw him leave our apartment to go back to campus. It was a small southern school and I was out. The news was all over campus by the end of the day. To compound matters he was African American, literally. One parent from the DRC and the from the American southern Atlantic coast. I am white. So there was a heaping helping of hate for both our orientation and races. Someone called his parents and they made him come home. On Monday I went into my newspaper job and found a note in my box to call his fraternity’s faculty advisor as he’d killed himself over the weekend. I was told I was unwelcome at the funeral and that his death was my fault. Obviously that was not true, but my mental state fractured and I shut down. My best friend moved in and protected me. She got me through finals, made sure I ate and bathed and refused to leave my side until the next term started. I didn’t date again for years, and I refused to ever let anyone force me back into the closet. To this day I think of what a fine and wonderful young man he was. I miss him still almost 40 years later. I do not wonder “what if” because that is fruitless. It’s one of the reasons I’m still active in my community, attend pride and refuse to dim my light for anyone or any reason. @KyBourbon I sympathize with your experience and send you a virtual hug. Life hurts us sometimes, but we can become better people for it.I have no friends from childhood. I was deep “in the closet” until I turned 25 years old. I had a best friend in high school. He and I happened to be in the same classes the entire time we were in school. We hung out together, and our families even got together and socialized. We went to separate colleges and stayed in contact. After he graduated, he moved back to my city. He met a girl at college and proposed to her shortly after graduation. Since we were such close friends, everyone thought he would ask me to be in their wedding, but he didn’t. I was really surprised, shocked, and a little embarrassed (especially when people asked why). He said they wanted to “keep the wedding party small.” My family and I were invited to the wedding, but I wasn’t included in the wedding party. His best man was a guy we had both known in high school (on a side note, his best man was too busy to coordinate a bachelor party, so I stepped in and threw the party for him). He even told me I didn’t have to go to the wedding if I didn’t want to…the wedding was in his fiancé’s hometown 6 hours away. My family and I sent a gift, we drove 6 hours to the wedding, we attended the reception, and wished the couple well. After he and his wife returned home, I reached out to him a few times, but he was always busy. So I thought I would wait for him to call me but he never did…I was ghosted. I’ve never seen or talked to him or his family since…that was almost 30 years ago. After I came out, several people confided to me (independently) that his parents suspected I might be gay at that time and they didn’t want “someone like me” in their son’s wedding party. My friend didn’t stand up for me, so I assume he felt the same way. It was a hurtful experience. Homophobia at its finest. Luckily for me, I met some truly wonderful friends as an adult who stood by my side even after I came out. And I have a wonderful partner of 20 years. So, when Michael Petherick cried “homophobia” after people unsubscribed from his channel when, in fact, they really unsubscribed because he blew all their money on rent boys and parties, I was angry. I’ve experienced homophobia directly and personally…Michael’s false claims to garner pity really cheapened the experience of anyone who has truly been a target of homophobia.