Friday, June 18, 2010

Homophobia Is Gay!

Homophobia is a complex thing. And believe me; I know this all too well being a homophobe myself. It started when I realised that I might be gay. I was still a teenager and being gay was something that other people did. Normal kids, and I was normal, tried to find out who was gay and write so and so is a lezzer on the toilet walls. Usually the girl in question wasn’t gay at all, she probably had short hair and Dr. Marten boots, but that was enough back then.
So I left the country and went to London to be gay in secret. I knew that I couldn’t possibly be a lezzer myself; I liked Laura Ashley skirts and white court shoes. I had a Farah Fawcett Major hair style and I wore make-up. I convinced myself that I definitely wasn’t one of those abnormal people who committed abominable sex crimes, all I wanted to do was to try it out once, and after that I could go back home and get married to a nice boy.
I was less than an hour in London when I bumped into some friends from home, so the plan died there. Then I went to Germany. I could get it out of my system over there. I didn’t bump into anyone from home until I finally ventured into a gay disco. It was in Berlin, but there he was on the dance floor: a guy from the street I’d grown up on. I couldn’t understand how he realised that I’d be there, but I knew I was caught. He didn’t spend the evening stalking me and taking photos of me to send to my mother, he was busy dancing and showing off his pierced nipples. But I knew he could only be there to spy on me (because I was the only gay in the village!) so I left.
Eventually I did meet a woman, but I couldn’t really connect, because after all, she was a lezzer, so she had to be slightly strange. We had fun, but I slipped out before breakfast in case I’d have to talk to her. It wasn’t long before I came back home and married one of those nice boys like nice girls do.
A few years later, when the really nice boy I married had run away with a lap dancer, a terrible thing happened: I fell in love with a lezzer. That means I didn’t score or get lucky or have a secret night of sordid sex (because isn’t that the only thing that gay people do?) No, I fell in love with someone who didn’t even love me back. In fact she thought I was a pathetic and patronizing homophobe. I became a political gay activist to try and win her heart. I didn’t get the girl but I became enlightened.
Last week one of my kids punched a guy for making homophobic comments. I’m not a friend of punches myself and luckily never received any during my years of delusion. I like the attitude of the new generation though, and I’m proud of my kids whoever they are. I’ll even accept them if any of them turn out to be heterosexuals…

No comments: