My Coming Out Story: “The Media Made Us Feel We Were Not Worthy of Loving”

By James Linnington, Senior Recruitment Marketing Specialist at Parexel 

I was trying to think of a particular day that I originally “Came Out”, and to be honest, I don’t think I can pinpoint one specific day or time. Coming out for me has definitely been more than a one-time process, and even at 43, I am sure there will be many more times in my life that I will face the decision as to whether I am fully open about my sexuality to people I meet or potential employers. I still stand by the old adage that coming out is never just a one-off experience but more a lifetime of coming out experiences, that perhaps become easier with age. Or it might just be that perhaps I am not so bothered by the reaction of those that I am telling. This could be partly because I have a supportive family (which I appreciate is not the case for everyone), and I have a small but faithful group of friends around me.

It was probably in my early teens that I “came out” to myself and admitted that the feelings and attraction that I had to the same gender were not something that was going away and was certainly not a passing phase. I think acknowledging to yourself how you feel and identify is a massive step, and now why I see the importance of having positive role models and representation in the public eye. Growing up as an 80’s and 90’s child, being gay, I felt was still very stigmatised and associated with the reckless, loveless lifestyle, ultimately resulting in a painful and lonely demise with what seemed like an inevitable death from AIDS. No wonder queer peers in my generation grew up with so many hang-ups! I think the media made us feel we were not worthy of loving and living a healthy, happy life.

Whilst I was at University, I definitely became more confident in expressing myself, and I often would comment to my best friend at the time (female) whether I thought someone was “nice” or “attractive”. Please do be kind in judging my very superficial and rather unsubtle ways of letting my friend know that we perhaps might both find the same people attractive. I remember being sat on her bedroom floor one evening telling her that I was going to go to an LGB meeting to meet other people to go socialise with and was told that she thought that was a good idea. OK – so no shock, or gasp of surprise from her, but that was fine, to be honest, it was probably quite obvious.

From my time at university, I also recall queuing with a close friend from my course, (again female… I’m seeing a pattern here), at the student union box office to buy tickets for the monthly queer night “Climax”. There was a slight element of excitement as I asked for and paid for the tickets, I certainly wasn’t trying to shock my friend, but also knew I wanted them to know more about me. As we walked at the student union across the concourse, I remember being asked who they were for, and I calmly replied, “Oh, they’re for a friend and me”. Again no gasp of shock or horror, just “Ok, cool, I hear it’s a fun night”. Perhaps I was wanting more of a challenge from my university friends, maybe even a “Are you sure”, but maybe to them, it really didn’t matter who I fancied or tumbled into bed with. Ultimately true friends like you as a person, warts and all.

The first person I came out to in my family was my sister. I was sitting in my student digs on the bed, as she had come around to see me, having returned from a Medical placement in India.

“I have something to tell you,” I said, “You know Mike? Well, he’s more than a friend”. I don’t know why again, it felt improper to say, “I’m gay”, but I think I have always been more a fan of the “don’t ram your views down someone else’s throat” approach. It was received gloriously, and we hugged for a long time. She then told me that one of her close friends was gay, with whom she had lived with in her first year at university, in fact, she knew quite a few gay and lesbian people. I remember thinking, “Wow, my sister really is metropolitan and cool”.

As a slight aside, I do recall a conversation I had with a university tutor.  I was really unsure of what career path I wanted to take. I studied a non-vocational subject, and other than being a teacher in that field, I really couldn’t see how I was going to use my degree. On the well-meaning advice of my lesbian tutor, she thought a career in academia, retail or local government were relatively “safe” choices if wanting to live life as an openly gay man. At the time, I thought this was a fair assessment, and did pursue a career in retail and ultimately with the local authority (I should add as much as I loved university life, continuing academia was not how I saw my life panning out)!

Now I slightly baulk at the advice given, I would hope that no field of work or interest should be limited by your sexuality. But I recognise that although great steps have been made with regard to equality and equity across the board, there are always some elements and mentalities that offer some form of resistance to this, be they localised or global!

Coming out to my mother was a slightly more stressful and distressing time for me, at least. I had literally just found out by phone that my boyfriend from university no longer wanted to go out with me. Initially, they just ghosted me, avoiding my calls. I had a sinking feeling that something was wrong, as this wasn’t usual Mike. He was always attentive to calls and texts (although at that time, calls were short and texts were kept to a minimum, personal mobiles as a student were still quite a new thing, and on PAYG it certainly wasn’t cheap!), but he later confirmed on the phone that he no longer loved me and that we wouldn’t see each other again. To this date, he has kept his word! I was an emotional mess. My first true love had left me brokenhearted a day before a job interview, and worst of all, I was at my childhood home. I hadn’t come out to my parents, and I felt indescribably devastated. This time my mum came to me, whilst I was “ugly crying” in my bedroom. “Mum”, I said.  “Mike was my boyfriend, and he has just broken up with me”. No words were said, but I was embraced tightly. No rejection. No angry or crosswords. Ultimately a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders. I didn’t feel I now needed to necessarily behave or act differently, but there was definitely a release of pressure and a feeling of no longer needing to hide from my mum the relationships with people who were important to me. 

I do remember in later conversations with my mum about how we broached the subject with my dad, and words that still stick with me today are, “it’s sometimes better for it to be a little trickle than a full waterfall”. No one wants to shock or upset someone they care about, and again maybe because it was a generational thing, if I wanted to continue the love and respect for my relationship with my dad, then I should be mindful of his feelings as much as I was of my own.

As I have matured (which is debatable), I have become a lot less bothered whether people know my sexuality or not. Of course, I don’t want to put myself in a position where there is any risk of harm or danger or even homophobic abuse. But neither do I want to tiptoe around the reality that I am a gay man and worry if colleagues or acquaintances are offended by who I prefer to love or not. After all love is love.  

In work situations, I do find myself using the word “Partner” rather than husband or boyfriend and will use my partner’s name and his pronouns if asked about plans I had at the weekend etc. After all, if you are interested in my life, I will tell you about it 100%, and you get the full me! I probably now assume that the people around me are a lot more accepting than they were when I was in my early and late teens. I can see times have changed, mostly for the better. 

Most of my colleagues with whom I have worked with have always turned into friends, many of which I still keep in contact with from my early retail career and time within the local authority. In my current role at Parexel (where I have been for almost 9 years), I have to say I have felt the most supported. I’ve spoken openly about my relationship with all of my managers, all have been supportive, open-minded and caring. 

In fear of repeating myself, I believe being open about your private life, about who you are, although not essential, does enable you to bring your full self to work. There are enough stresses and strains in life for us, so there should be no need to add another by having to hide who we love from the people we care about and work with.

On reflection, perhaps how I “come out” has changed as I got older. It’s no longer a request for permission or acceptance, but merely just a this is how I live my life, how I love. If you respect me, then I will respect you. It should be that easy!

To finish off this reflection on “coming out”, I would like to share 4 quotes from RuPaul – which, although are not my mantras, I think really should be part of a “coming out” kit or self-help guide. I’ll let you decide!

“If you don’t love yourself, how in the hell you gonna love somebody else?”

“Whatever people think of me, is none of my business.”

“Happiness is about using the whole box of crayons.”

“Unless they paying your bills, pay them B#%~?£s no mind.”