Coming out ...

We all change throughout our lives. There's a lot of pressure to conform to social norms. But, for me, sometimes these social norms do not allow me to express who I am. I'm going to use this post you share with you, my one & only reader, my deep dark secret. I'm going to come out and to be who I really am.

Well, gosh. This is hard to write. I fear it will cost me a lot of friends. My family may well even ostricize me.

I don't even know where to start. Deep breath. I'll start where my therapist does, my childhood. When I was a kid, every one of my mates had sweetie day on Wednesday. Their mums gave then 10p to buy sweets - and these were the days when you could buy a lot of sweets for 10p. But not my mum. She was cruel and taught my brother and me that a stick of celery was a treat.

Fast forward to me aged 13. I have now become a man of independent means. I have a business. Well, a paper round. For getting up at 5:30am and taking people (including Ronnie Corbett!) their daily tabloids, I get the princely sum of £2 per week. I'm rolling in it! So what do I do with my new found wealth? I buy the 2000AD comic, and with what's left and (you're ahead of me, aren't you) I buy sweets. Mojos, Refreshers, Opal Fruits. But mostly chocolate bars - Marathons, Lion Bars, Kit Kats. I can still remember the excitement when Cadbury's launched Wispa! From going to perhaps having a chocolate bar once a month, I suddenly could have six a week. And I developed the skill to eat six in one go.

Moving forward, in my mid-twenties I became vegan (not VEGAN). Many people said to me, "won't you miss the sweet things - you know, chocolate, cake at the like?" But, my friend, being vegan is not that much of a sacrifice. There is vegan chocolate. There is vegan cake. (Uninterestingly enough, many vegan cakes are World War II recipes because they rationed eggs. More interestingly, they didn't have bananas during WWII - which, I'm reliably informed, directly led to the Ann Summers retail chain.) So, the sweetness continued.

"What's this got to do with anything?" I hear you ask. I know it's what I'm asking myself right now. Where was I? Oh yeah, coming out ...

Another leap in time, to my late thirties. something very strange happened. It was a bit like a switch flipped in my brain and my soul. I now hope that even if you don't understand me, you will be there for me when I confess ...

I don't like chocolate. Or cake. Or biscuits. Or scones.

Phew, it's out there now. I feel a weight around my neck has been removed. There's a new lightness in my step. No more hiding. I can be the real me!

Are we still friends?

 

Footnote
My mum was not cruel in any way. She loved me deeply, and was the best mum anybody could have. She died nearly 25 years ago and I still love and miss her every day. All of the good bits about me are in no small way thanks to her (the bad bits are my own creation). Thanks mum x.