Have You Told Your Mum Yet?

[mrentoul]

'She was

hysterical. I had to keep ordering more

and more pots of tea. But the following

year, she came to Gay Pride.'

A wonderful piece, by a mother with terrific courage. Apologies for length.

Have you told your mum yet?

How would you react if your 15-year-

old son told you that he was gay? In this

moving and highly personal account,

one mother writes of her pride, shock

and anxiety on the day it happened to

her...

The Observer

Oct 19, 2003

A few months ago, my son told me he

was gay. He switched off the television

one evening just before bedtime, stood

up and announced that he had

something to say. Maybe we already

knew, he said; probably, it explained a

lot.

We did not know. That lunchtime,

I'd asked my husband if he thought

Tom was gay and he'd said: 'In every

way except sexually.' As soon as Tom

started speaking, I knew what he was

going to tell us. Even so, when the

words were out, I was stunned. He was

15. It seemed rather young to be sure

about anything (although I've since

learned that 15 is now the commonest

age to come out).

I stared at him stupidly. 'Say you're

pleased!' I thought frantically. 'Say it's

fantastic!' But the words wouldn't quite

form, because, now that it came to it, I

wasn't sure that I was pleased, or that it

was fantastic.

I hugged him. My husband asked

him what he meant (maybe thinking, I

don't know, that Tom thought it was

something to do with liking cooking

and musicals) and he said he'd been

sure he was attracted to boys for three

years. (In fact, I think he was probably

being a bit disingenuous here; I think

he'd always known.

He'd told a teacher in primary school

that he thought he might be gay, but he

was being bullied at the time, and

everyone thought he was just expressing

his sense of himself as an outsider.) We

asked him whether his large circle of

friends knew, which they did; and

whether there were other gay people at

school, which there were.

And that, in a way, was that. He knew

we loved him and his sexuality didn't

make an iota of difference to how we

felt about him. We've always been

reasonably liberal parents, we have a

number of gay friends, and we were

able, more or less, to demonstrate that

we thought 'so what?'

I was not ashamed of the way we'd

responded. We told him we were proud

of him; I could see that, even if you

expect a positive response, it must take

a lot of courage to tell.

All the same, I was surprised by how

shocked I was. I was less calm than I

made out. My first thought, when he

told us, was that he wouldn't be able to

have children, despite having the

potential to be a fantastic father - which

was absurd, because I know plenty of

heterosexual people who haven't been

able to have children, and plenty of

others who haven't wanted them. I didn't

have children myself in order for them

to procreate. And, anyway, increasingly

there are ways for gay people to have

children. Tony and Barrie Drewitt-

Barlow, the first gay couple to have a

surrogate baby (twins, four years ago)

are now expecting another child.

There are, God knows, enough

children who need looking after in one

way or another. And recent American

research suggests that children raised

by gay couples are at least as happy and

successful as their peers - which is no

surprise, because their parents must

have to think a lot about what they're

doing.

My second thought was that I was

about to lose him to a netherworld of

promiscuity and leather. I could

sympathise with my daughter over her

boyfriends, because I'd been there; I

knew how to negotiate breakups, I

understood the thrilling openings of new

affairs. Tom was going to disappear

into a world whose rules I didn't

understand. I would be no use at all.

My third anxiety was that he had no

inkling of how difficult this was going to

be. He'd grown up in chaotic,

multicultural inner London; he went to

a school where homophobia was

seriously uncool. Did he have any idea

how narrow and bigoted people could

be? I'd just read an article about Damilola

Taylor which pointed out that he had

been the victim of another attack, a few

days before the one that killed him.

Then, his assailants had taunted him

with being gay. The possibility that his

murder was homophobic was not even

raised at the trial or the subsequent

public inquiry.

Attitude magazine publishes a youth

issue every year. On the letters page,

Tom, 19, from Newbury, says he was

thrown out of his home by his father

when he came out, while his sister

watched, crying. Luke, 17, writes that

he is 'becoming more and more proud

of myself and I hope that will help me

out of the closet. I have found it hard to

write this letter, but I think it's good I

can tell you. There's no one else I can.'

Sean, 16, feels lonely and excluded,

doesn't know how to meet other gay

people his own age and is reduced to

meeting men on the internet, 'but all

they want is sex. I like sex, but it's not

all I want. I got drunk and had sex

without a condom which I'm terrified

about now. I'm too scared to go to a

clinic, because they'll know I'm gay.'

These letters echo the postings on

websites set up for young gay men -

from Scotland, Sydney, Salt Lake City -

written by boys who cry themselves to

sleep every night, who wish they weren't

gay, who doubt the possibility of ever

finding someone who will love them.

Last month, Mind published research

(the largest study of its kind ever

undertaken in Europe) showing that

lesbian, gay and bisexual (LGB) people

suffer from more mental health problems

than the rest of the population and that

they are at greater risk of alcoholism

and substance abuse. This may have

something to do with the fact that to

meet other gay people you have to spend

a fair amount of time in bars; but it

seems likely that it also reflects levels of

stress. The study confirmed other findings

that young LGB people are three to

seven times more likely to think about

suicide or to attempt it.

One of the Mind respondents, already

on medication for depression, went to

his GP for a hepatitis injection. Asked

why he wanted it, he 'explained I was

gay, apart from anything else. He just

looked at me, and three days later I

received a letter saying I could find

another GP.' This was an extreme

response, but most of those interviewed

had experienced subtler forms of

discrimination, underpinned by universal

assumptions of heterosexuality and a

related sense that anything else was

substandard.

So it's not surprising that young gay

people internalise negative feelings about

themselves. This term, the first public

high school for LGB children in America

opened its doors in New York. My son,

who has many friendships, some very

close, with straight teenagers, thinks

that ghettoising gay kids as if their

sexuality were their whole identity is a

dreadful idea. But if you have been

bullied and frightened and excluded for

your entire school career, a school where

your sexuality ceased to be a big deal

would probably be a relief.

Chris Dudley thought seriously about

suicide at secondary school. He had no

friends. At primary school, they called

him a girl; later they isolated him. When

he tried to talk to the school counsellor

about 'not particularly liking girls, or

what it might be like to be a gay person,

he'd try to bring it back to my father

having left when I was three'. Chris

spent years feeling depressed - 'It was

like nothing in life mattered' - until one

day his mother Irene came home from

work to find him sobbing. He told her

he wanted to kill himself. She had a

hunch he might be gay, on the basis of

something she'd seen in his diary three

years before about a boy at the swimming

pool, but she didn't want him to think

she'd been snooping.

The next day, though, she happened

to hear a young man phone in to Richard

and Judy to say he wished his parents

would ask him outright if he were gay,

because it would make telling so much

easier. So she asked Chris. 'He said he

was 90 per cent sure. I just felt so upset

for him. He'd suffered all this time on

his own. He'd come close to suicide,

and I love him so much.

'We talked and talked, and the next

day, I wrote him a letter telling him I

loved him, and also, that if anyone

rejected him, they'd reject me.'

'Mum was 100 per cent supportive,'

Chris says. 'If she hadn't been, I'm not

sure I'd be here now.' Both Chris and

Irene are 'now totally out to the whole

world'. It took about a year to tell

everyone. Irene told her own mother in

a tea room in Birmingham. 'She was

hysterical. I had to keep ordering more

and more pots of tea. But the following

year, she came to Gay Pride.'

In 1989, a study commissioned by

the United States department of Health

revealed that across America, a gay and

lesbian youth commits suicide every 5

hours and 48 minutes. To me, as the

mother of a much-loved son, this seems

almost unbearable. The figures have

almost certainly improved since then (a

decade ago, the median age for coming

out was 19). There's less stigma now,

and, the younger people can be honest

about themselves, the less likelihood

there is of them getting caught up in my

netherworld of desperate, risky

behaviour; the greater the chance of

integrating their sexuality into the rest

of their lives rather than have it loom

like some large impediment in front of

them.

There are also many more role models

now. This week in Coronation Street

Todd Grimshaw kissed Nick Tilsley in

the Street's first gay story in its 43 years.

Todd is still mightily confused about

his sexuality at 18, which in real life

seems to be the exception rather than

the rule, but that won't really matter if

it's done well. Meanwhile, there are

major gay characters in Buffy The

Vampire Slayer, Dawson's Creek, Six

Feet Under and Will and Grace. All the

other British soaps have had gay

characters and storylines. Brian Dowling

and Will Young have succeeded in reality

TV. And this winter we are to get a

British version of the American TV hit,

Queer Eye For the Straight Guy, in which

five cool gay men make over a different

hapless hetero every week.

So now that I think about it, it seems

unlikely that Tom, who is thoughtful

about relationships, will disappear into

a wild underworld of hysterical sex. There

really isn't any need. I am rather hopeful

of some charming boyfriends.

I am in Gay's The Word bookshop,

near King's Cross, trying to act

nonchalant and actually falling up the

step in the middle of the shop three

times. The man behind the desk

congratulates me on the purchase of a

novel called Peter, which he wishes had

been around when he was young. If

parents could only read it, he says, they'd

be touched by its gentleness. I want to

say 'I'm a parent,' but don't, in case he

thinks I'm over-anxious to point out

that I am not, myself, actually gay. And

then I feel stupid, because I probably

might as well have a big sign on my

forehead saying 'parent', picking up my

beginner's books on Queer Theory.

But if it takes our children some time

to adjust to their sexuality, it's probably

not surprising that it takes us parents a

little while too. When Maureen Brennan

found out that her 18-year-old son

Stephen was gay, 'all my love turned to

hate'. Stephen had been home from

university for the weekend, picking up

a prize and commendations for his tenure

as head boy at his old school. 'On the

Friday, I was the proudest mum in the

world. On Sunday, as I watched him

leave, he might as well have been a

stranger. I called him at university and

told him he was not the son I'd raised,

and I didn't love him any more.'

A gay friend of Stephen's gave

Maureen the number of Fflag, Friends

and Families of Lesbians and Gay people.

She called the local contact, Norah

Gutteridge. 'Norah said, "Hang on a

minute while I get the cakes out of the

oven." I thought, "How can she bake

cakes when she's got a gay child?"' In

fact, three of Norah's four children are

gay. And two years later, Maureen's

younger son, David, came out. Four

parents in her local Fflag group have

two gay children.

Nowadays, Maureen goes on the Fflag

float at Gay Pride: 'Though it turns my

stomach, some of the things. Thank

God my boys don't do it, showing their

bottoms. I would be really cross if they

did.' She helps train volunteers at Gay

Switchboard. 'It has completely opened

my life up. I'm out to the world and

completely and totally happy with my

boys and their sexuality.' The incidence

of multiple gay children in some families

raises the sticky question of what lies at

the root of sexual preference. It is not

uncommon for parents to blame

themselves when they discover a child

is gay, so the notion of a gay gene,

something that no one could have done

anything about, seems somehow

comforting. So far, though, attempts to

isolate the gene have failed: one study

that appeared to show a mutation on

the X chromosome has been repeated

more than once without producing the

same result. And many gay activists are

resistant to the search, since it could

easily lead to a sickness model of

homosexuality, inviting therapy of one

kind or another.

Many queer theorists, influenced by

Foucault, prefer a model of sexuality as

culturally driven. It seems to me to

make sense to think of sexuality as a

continuum - or rather, as a sort of

spaghetti junction, to do with not just

the gender you prefer, but all sorts of

other things you might like - on which

people locate themselves for a host of

reasons, not least of which is their

perception of their overwhelming desire.

But the notion that one chooses,

consciously, to be a young gay person,

seems to me patently absurd. You only

have to look at the websites for five

minutes to realise how much distress

some young people suffer and how

eagerly they would choose to be 'normal'.

(This was also why I never had any

doubts that Tom was gay. Several people

I told said: 'How does he know it isn't a

phase?' But you don't, at 15, initiate a

discussion with your parents about your

sexual preferences unless you feel it's

absolutely necessary.)

Looking for causes might be

academically interesting, but doesn't get

you very far. My son is gay in the same

sense that another person might be

left-handed; he perceives it as something

that he has neither the ability nor the

inclination to alter. And while the idea

of the homosexual may be relatively

new (there was always plenty of activity,

but no distinct category of persons until

the late 1860s) it exists today, Tom is

implicated and I find myself getting

increasingly militant about it. Gay rights

has always been a part of my battery of

political beliefs, more or less taken for

granted. But suddenly I feel furious.

Section 28 will finally be repealed on 17

November. Although it never applied to

schools, only to local authorities,

Childline and other organisations

working with young people say that

many teachers have hidden behind it.

Discussion of homosexuality has been

avoided. The very existence of Section

28 has suggested to a generation that

there is something less than fully human

about being gay.

I am in despair over the Anglican

Church, tearing itself apart over gay

bishops; at a loss to understand how an

institution supposedly dedicated to

values of loyalty, devotion and lifelong

mutual support could refuse to sanction

marriage of people who are in love and

prepared to make such demanding

commitments. I am revolted by the 1992

Vatican Congregation for the Doctrine

of the Faith, which asserted that when

human rights legislation is proposed to

protect behaviour 'to which no one has

any right, neither the Church nor society

at large should be surprised when

irrational and violent actions increase'.

And I bridle at casual homophobia, not

just school children saying 'the peas are

gay' when they're overcooked, but a

friend of mine saying: 'He's gay, but

he's really successful.' Initially, I was a

little guilty of something like this myself.

When people said to me: 'Oh, Tom's so

lovely,' I thought, well, yes, that's a gay

thing. But now I censor myself. Being

gay is part of his identity, but only a

part. I won't let it occlude him, I won't

let everything be shadowed by his

gayness. He is lovely, and he is gay. It's

not a causal relationship.

I am in Old Compton Street on a

midweek evening. Men sit outside cafés

at tables drinking coffee in twos and

threes. There are piercings, Mohican

haircuts and tattoos, stylish white

T-shirts, leather jackets, anoraks. There's

quite a lot of hanging around, looking

cool. (I would quite like to do this myself,

if I could carry it off). I play what is

probably a very un-PC game, Test Your

Gaydar. It's surprisingly difficult, even

here in the middle of the Scene. There

are lots of different ways to be gay.

I find the place appealing, though; I

am attracted to camp, especially in Susan

Sontag's description of it as 'a sensibility

that, among other things, converts the

serious into the realm of the frivolous'.

I am definitely on the side of the Barbie

Liberation Organisation, the New York

group that stole talking Barbies and GI

Joes from toy stores, changed their voice

boxes and smuggled them back onto

the shelves, so that consumers bought

Barbies who shouted 'Attack!' and,

'Vengeance is Mine!' while the GI Joes

twittered: 'Will we ever have enough

clothes?' and 'Let's plan our dream

wedding!'

I am persuaded by the several mothers

who have told me that parents are very

welcome at gay clubs and bars. 'They

love people who are gay-friendly in the

bars,' Irene says. 'It's like, Mum's out,

we'll all go! I always know someone,

and I've met so many wonderful people.'

So, where does that leave my initial

anxieties? Children - well, we'll see;

boyfriends - probably going to be a

procession of nice men coming home.

One of my closest gay friends advised

me in the first days to impress upon

Tom the importance of being in a loving

relationship. I realised with a little surge

of smug-parent pleasure that I didn't

need to do this; I'd been doing it all his

life. I know gay couples who are devotedly

monogamous and, frankly, I would prefer

this for Tom, because I am a fan of

marriage. But I have seen enough

marriages stutter to be aware that

monogamy isn't a universal panacea.

Whatever, I find it hard to believe Tom

won't be loved, because he is so loveable.

And he's loyal and intuitive, which are

good qualities for success in long-term

relationships.

Finally, the homophobia. It still exists.

But it's not publicly acceptable any more.

And there's no need for Tom to live in

the sort of place in which he might be

exposed to it. US academics Richard

Florida and Gary Gates have found that

the best lead indicator of levels of

innovation and creativity in an area is

the concentration of gay people living

there. This is true in Europe as well as

America, where Florida and Gates first

established their Gay Index. It's not

that the gay people are doing all the

innovating; but lesbian, gay and bisexual

people are attracted to places that are

diverse, open and tolerant. And these

places also attract innovators and foster

creativity. They sound to me like the

best sort of places to live.

I have changed our names (nobody

else's) here for a couple of reasons.

Firstly, we're not out to everyone, and

this wouldn't be the way to do it.

Secondly, Tom is 16 and doesn't need

me exposing him. But by next year I

expect to be out to everyone. I shall be

going to Gay Pride.

I am now able to say what I couldn't

that first night, that I am pleased, that

it's fantastic. My son has already opened

up the world a bit more for me, and I

expect that he will carry on doing it.

Like Jesus in Jerry Springer - The Opera

, I am pleased to be able to say: 'Actually,

I am a little bit gay.'

Gay times

1993 Brookside features the first

lesbian kiss on TV.

1994 The homosexual age of consent

in the UK is lowered from 21 to 18.

1996 The General Synod rules that

Anglican bishops will be able to protect

gay priests from disciplinary tribunals.

1997 The European Court of Human

Rights rules that a lesbian couple looking

after children under a joint residence

order constitutes 'family life'.

1999 Barrie Drewitt and Tony Barlow

become the first same-sex UK couple

legally entitled to register as parents

when they father twins through a US

surrogate mother.

2000 The ban on homosexuals in the

armed forces is lifted and the homosexual

age of consent is lowered to 16.

2002 The House of Lords passes

measures allowing gay couples to adopt.

2003 Canon Jeffrey John is appointed

Bishop of Reading, only for the move to

be shelved amid fears of evangelical

opposition.

[tuky]

Fantastic, thank you mrentoul for posting this. It really touched my heart.

He is lovely, and he is gay. It's

not a causal relationship.

I am not gay, but I sure am lovely. In the world (through my eyes) lovely and gay has always gone together, I have always tried to hide my sensitive/lovely side, my family have always known I am the lovely boy, the sensitive one.

Having that reaction from my family (primarily my mother) has actually made it hard to justify being straight, as silly as it sounds.

When I was still at school (All boys catholic college) my Mother asked me oneday if I was gay, I can't remember her tone as to whether it would be a good thing or a bad thing, but I do remember wondering about myself, knowing deep inside I am attracted to woman but confused about the way the world sees me, and how I should really behave in relation to that.

I mention this to make the point that ones sexual identity is not only confusing for a gay boy, or girl but also a straight one.

In the years since, I have matured and learnt to accept that it doesn't matter so much what people might think, but to embrace the person that I am and the characteristics that made me feel different are actual traits that I should be proud of, which is a blessing because I work in construction in the oil and gas industry, an industry not known for attracting those with a softer nature.

I have often wondered why my Mother asked me all those years ago if I was gay, I suspect it was because of my caring nature but after having read the above article I wonder now if it was possible that she had other reasons, and if it turned out that I was/am gay, how would she have reacted?

What an inspiring arcticle!

[wcr]

Brilliant artical. Can someone tell me how I can forward this on to someone by email?

[wcr]

I've tried that, but it won't let me do it!

[Nat]

My first thought, when he

told us, was that he wouldn't be able to

have children

Thought this was interesting as it's exactly what my mum said when I asked her what she'd think if I was gay. Her main concern was that she wouldn't be a grandmother . However as mentioned in the article this can be overcome.

(ps mrentoul the perfume is Allure by Chanel - the men's is also very lovely)

[ChrisP]

WCR...

I Explorer has to be set to "Plain Text" messages... Or you're right - it won't let you. !

ChrisP

[Ijustwannateach]

Lovely article. I came out to my folks when I was about 26- my stepfather was rather quiet (and anyway not that close to me), and my mother cried (from disappointment). She still hasn't accepted it- though she claims it's not not accepting me, but not accepting my "lifestyle"- as she's one of these rabid irrational Christian types who think it's a "choice." Still, she's softening as the years pass. Perhaps by the time she's 80 or so it won't matter to her so much anymore.

As for the rest of the family, they're fine with it.

"Steven"

P.s. Sorry for dredging up so many old threads, but you guys haven't been posting so much lately! and this one deserves to be back on the front page for awhile!

[Deadcert]

Copy and paste it to an e mail. Should work.