From an early age I
knew there was something different about me. In primary school I was too young
to know I was attracted to the same sex, but I was aware that I behaved
differently to the other boys in school. I had some of the typical cliché
characteristics of other gay friends of mine growing up. I wasn’t interested or
good at sports, I was a bit more sensitive and emotionally in tune, and I never
understood why it wasn’t ok to play with the girls as well as other boys.
Nature or nurture I will never know, but most of my gay mates were similar. Not
all of us were ‘feminine’ but most had an awareness that they did not quite fit
in.
I was bullied and
picked on at times. These were the times I think anxiety started to creep into
my daily experience. I was constantly wary of saying anything that might be
seen as too gay, girly or ‘poofy’. There were kids I would go out of my way to
avoid for fear of being picked on or even physically attacked. I remember a
friend poking me once in the side and being surprised by how tense I was—I just
assumed everyone held their muscles tense all day long! I started getting
headaches, bloating and other somatic issues I now know were stress related.
This all fed into the core belief of “There is something wrong with me”.
The late 1980’s was
a time when the danger of AIDS was being heavily pushed onto the publics’
consciousness. The grim reaper was
appearing on TV advertisements bowling over families to an early death. The
media pointed the finger at the spread of the disease to gay men. Messages from
friends, family and the media had already enforced the notion that being gay,
poofy or feminine was bad and unacceptable. Now, it seemed gay men were also
diseased, and were spreading that disease throughout the world. On some
subconscious level this reinforced a core belief that there was something wrong
with me, and the belief that I wasn’t good enough.
High school, like
for many gay men I know, was when the stress of an evolving sexuality really
kicked in. It is a confusing time for all people, but seems particularly so for
those same-sex attracted.
Masculinity and the
expectations of what it means to be a man becomes a huge focus in the building
of a teenager’s identity. I became hypervigilant of saying things and behaving
in a more masculine way so that no one would perceive me as being gay. This
constant attention to my behaviour only increased my self-consciousness in a
negative way. I would worry constantly about what others thought of me. Friends
were beginning to talk about their attraction to girls in class, and I felt
confused about my own feelings. Constantly ‘acting’ straight all day long is
exhausting.
I remember a teacher
once talking about visiting San Francisco and how disgusted he was by all the
gay men he saw holding hands “with no shame”. This teacher also referred to
another teacher at the school as a ‘big poof’ and for us boys to ‘watch our
backs’ around him. This teacher was an ex-football player and much admired by
the boys in the class, so I am sure the message sunk in deep; gays are
predatory perverts who should feel ashamed.
The combination of
negative core beliefs (“there is something wrong with me” and “I’m not good
enough”), hypervigilance about how I was behaving, a (legitimate) fear of social
exclusion, confused self-identity, plus all the hormonal changes of being a
teenager became the perfect recipe for developing severe anxiety.
It was in year 12
that I had my first panic attack. I remember feeling like I was outside of my
own body, an intense sense of impending doom, and waves of terror going through
me. I was convinced I was showing the first signs of schizophrenia, and was
reluctant to tell anyone about my experiences for fear of being medicated or
institutionalised.
This coincided with
an intense pressure building within me to ‘come out of the closet’. I wanted to
be an authentic and honest person. I wanted to love and to be loved. I wanted
the acceptance of friends, family and broader society. To do this I would have
to be honest about who I was. This was a terrifying prospect. Will my family
still love me? Will my friends reject me or treat me differently? What will it
mean for my dreams of having kids? Will I get gay bashed? Or catch HIV?
All this added to my
constant worry.
As with any fear,
the only way to deal with it was to confront it. Slowly I came out to people,
first my sister, then my best mate, then my parents. Each time presented a new
terrifying opportunity to be rejected or shamed. I am blessed to have family
and friends that accepted me as I am; many gay men I know have not had that
luck.
Part of the problem
of being gay is that it’s often invisible. So, every new person you meet, you
are faced with the issue of telling them or not. You don’t realise until you
have to cover up aspects of your life just how often sexuality becomes an
aspect of every day conversation.
In my first job, I
worked as a casual retail shop assistant in a chain with stores all over
Melbourne. I rotated around various stores so was constantly getting to know
new staff I had not met before. Inevitably conversations would turn to whether
you had a girlfriend, or comments would be made about some hot girl that had
come into the store. Each of those times you have to make the choice to be
honest or to lie. Each of those times, you still have the fear that this person
is going to judge you. I think the constant vigilance about revealing yourself
is a big trigger for anxiety in gay men. An experience that straight men do not
have to live with.
Years later, I am
now a happy and proud man, with a wonderful loving partner and an extensive
circle of close friends and community. I have been very lucky to have always
had supportive co-workers too. Many of my mates have not been so lucky. Some
have been bashed by supposed friends, spat at on the street, reached a ‘glass
ceiling’ in their workplace, or even work in such a macho culture that there is
no way they would ever come out and bring their partners to work functions.
This is still the reality for many gay men, and a source of constant worry.
Counselling and
supportive friends, and a willingness on my part to confront my anxiety
triggers has meant that today I am largely free of debilitating anxiety, and I
no longer suffer panic attacks.
Do I think my
anxiety problems were caused by being gay? Of course not, anxiety is caused by
a complex combination of biology, psychology and social environment. But I do
know that living in constant fear of rejection, in a world where people still
equate same sex marriage with beastiality and incest, in a society that still
used the words ‘gay’, ‘fag’ and ‘poof’ as put downs, has put me in a position
growing up where I thought there was something wrong with me, that I was not
good enough, and that meant I had to be constantly watchful for threats. This
indeed magnified my anxiety.
So solving the
anxiety problem is not just a personal issue, it is a social issue. We all need
to be more accepting of difference, and aware that our lives may not be the
same as others, and to be sensitive to what it feels like to be part of a
minority.
By Anon