As a child, my understanding of homosexuality was shaped by questionable sources. Strange people in eccentric clothes on TV, church sermons preaching damnation to anyone who strayed from the heterosexual norm. The term “embracing diversity” would only come to make sense much later.
My perception of gay people was moulded negatively long before I even knew what it meant. Derogatory remarks from religious factions and mainstream media only reinforced this belief, strengthened further by similarremarks from those around me, often family members.
Back then, I had no understanding of sexuality, love, or acceptance. Sex was never discussed in our conservative household. These topics didn’t cross my mind, and terms like “moffie” and “faggot” meant nothing to me, except that they referred to outcasts and freaks of society. They were blamed for everything evil in the world and were sure to burn. It never occurred to me that the people being spoken about included me until much later.
The first time I had a “wet dream,” I was convinced I had wet the bed. I was 12 years old and didn’t realise the sticky white substance coming out of me was anything apart from a normal pee. It had a different consistency and look, but what else could it be? I was so mortified and ashamed of wetting my bed that I washed my bedding in the wee hours of the morning and hid it from everyone for weeks.
My mom eventually caught on and sat me down to explain what was happening one morning at three am after waiting for me to make my detour to the laundry room. Although I was relieved to hear that it was a normal thing that happens to all teenagers, I still felt different. Growing up and understanding and accepting who I was often proved to be a challenging experience.
Broken Family Ties
My parents separated at age 12, the emotional turmoil took its toll to a whole new level, and somewhere along the line I decided to commit suicide, by drinking an entire bottle of Bob Martins. Luckily, we never really had many drugs in the house, and the lethal stuff was always locked up.
Suicide by doggy treats. Looking back, it seems silly, and at times I do feel I may have been a bit of a drama queen. The Bob Martins had very little ill effects, except maybe accounting for the amount of body hair I have as an adult, although I am pretty certain that belief is an old wife’s tale.
When your once happy family is falling apart, and you are a youngster with raging hormones, having a hard time understanding why you seem to be different, everything seems worse than it is. Being scared shitless that your parents will find out you are everything you were told most of your life, are evil, is no fun ride. It is traumatic, even if it is just kids stuff.
Acceptance
I had a small group of close friends most of my school life, but I mostly kept to myself. I even asked a girl out a few times to just feel a bit more normal, up to my senior years in high school. That is what young men do. It never lasted for long. The girls were friends, and there were many of them, but I would never be able to see them as anything more than friends. I definitely never felt any sexual attraction or the urge to copulate with them.
Having no point of reference to compare myself to, I struggled to understand why I was different and what it meant through most of my school years. I never spoke to anyone about how I experienced growing up in my early teenage years. The idea that somebody, especially my dad, would find out I was different, and were attracted to guys, most of them a few years older than myself, terrified me.
Coming Out
I finally outed myself as a gay man to my mom in my early twenties, about a year after my dad passed away. Coming out of the closet wasn’t the all-accepting experience I had hoped for. Her initial reaction was to ask me what she had done wrong that I turned out the way I did. It was a gut-wrenching moment. My mom and I were always close. She often had to work long, extended hours to make ends meet after my dad eloped. As a single parent, she provided as best as she could with the limited resources she had, with little to no help from my dad.
When I left her house after telling her I was gay, she informed the whole family, which made it easier for me not to have to tell everyone myself. It also caused a divide in our family that would never fully heal. For a few years, we hardly communicated with each other. I have learned to live my life in private.
The Challenge of Embracing Diversity
Sadly, many people, regardless of age, still live with secrets and are afraid of being judged, rejected, or hurting loved ones if they come out. It’s a sad reality that many countries also still prosecute and imprison same-sex couples, and that plenty of religious institutions still deny gay people the same basic human rights that they themselves feel they are entitled to.
There weren’t many of them, but over time, I had made a close-knit and small circle of friends. After coming out, my LGBT family provided much of the support I desperately needed to get to a place where I was ok with myself. Thinking back, many of my gay acquintences most likely were more into getting into my pants, rather than providing emotional support. At the time, their acceptance healed much of the pain caused by my outing experience.
In 2003, I met Dean. He was the second person I ever had a real relationship with. My first fling burned to a sudden and abrupt halt a few years earlier. He was the first partner I shared a home with. He passed away in 2006, a week before our 4th anniversary.
January 2005
Dean had been sick for months. No answers, and the medical bills piled up. Despite applying for hundreds of jobs, BEE or not, he wasn’t physically able to work, even if he found employment. I knew that, though I didn’t admit it at the time.
To cover our bills, I worked overtime regularly. After a year, we were no closer to understanding his health issues. I was exhausted, emotionally drained.
Household tasks and keeping the apartment tidy were all on me. As Dean’s health worsened, he did less and less around the house. I wanted to help, to make him feel better, but I had no idea how. Even though I knew many healthy HIV-positive people, AIDS never crossed my mind. It wasn’t until a friend who’d lived with HIV for years suggested it that I insisted he take the test. I had run out of answers long ago.
Guilt Trips
A few weeks before Dean passed, I came home late to a messy apartment. I’d stayed up past midnight cleaning the night before, but dirty dishes were piled high, and cups and glasses were scattered all over the living room. Dean sat there, looking frail. He’d had an accident in the bathroom earlier, which I had to clean up. I noticed how weak he appeared, but at that moment, I snapped, feeling helpless, frustrated, and exhausted. I angrily asked him why he couldn’t at least help with the cleaning, being home all day.
The next day, our GP called. It was an emergency. Unless Dean was admitted to the hospital immediately, he wouldn’t survive the week. The HIV test had been done a few weeks earlier, and Dean had been informed of the results just days before. His T-cell count was critical, yet he had refused to answer the phone or open the door when the GP came to our apartment. His office was across the street. I had no idea how little time we had left, but when I confronted him the previous evening, he was already terminal.
That incident still haunts me. I hope he forgave me. I try to remind myself, always, to take a moment to calm down before losing it. Emotional turbulence and helplessness often lead to words spoken in anger. Even unintentionally, words can never be taken back.
When Dean passed from an HIV-related illness in 2006, my family declined to attend his funeral when I asked them. I am a loner, and I am comfortable being on my own. Waiting for the results of my HIV test, and dealing with my now deceased partner’s estate that was anything but straightforward, left me doubting my ability to remain calm and collected. I was emotional, and in a state of depression, many times having suicidal thoughts.
The thing that kept me from doing something stupid was having a half-brother who did shoot himself many years ago, and recognising the devastating effect it had on my family, most especially on my mom.
I guess I simply needed somebody to tell me it will be ok, a support structure outside the immediate circle of friends we had. Being a loner, most of these were friends of my now deceased partner, and the rumours that were being spread surrounding the circumstances of his death and HIV status were pretty unpleasant. The number of friends who were suddenly having HIV tests done was staggering, and in my state of mind I trusted few people surrounding me, with many questions and suspicions milling through my head. Where, when, and who infected him with the virus?
Ghosts
Guilt stayed with me for years after Dean died. Did I not pay attention? How did I miss it? I knew the signs, I understood the virus? Was I too caught up in work? Could I have done something, anything, differently? Would he have survived? Did he trust me so little that he couldn’t be honest with me?
I felt stuck; hurt, angry, completely lost. The legal mess of his estate dragged on for five more years. During that time, I often thought about giving up. I never acted on it. Growing up, I saw how suicide tore through a family. I came close many times.
In between waves of rage and self-doubt, I buried myself in guilt inbetween pushing myself to often work 12 to 16 hours a day. I was angry with my family for not showing up. Angry with Dean, for hiding the truth, for not trusting me, for leaving me to carry the weight. But mostly, I was angry with myself. Taking on excessive work schedules was a way of coping without having to face the issues eating at me on the inside.
Life Goes On
Though I was physically healthy, my mental state was fragile at best. Generally, I felt trapped in a state of despair. I know I wasn’t the easiest person to be around, often keeping to myself.
It was through the art of street photography, a hobbyI had abandoned as a child, that I discovered a simple truth: even though it feels like it will never end, life goes on. Shit happens, but time keeps moving forward.
It took five years. Everything my partner and I built together eventually slipped away. The estate was small, and the fight against his family, mentally and financially, wasn’t worth continuing.
Departed Legalities
It’s devastating how same-sex partnerships are treated when there’s no legal foundation to support them. Without a living will, the surviving partner may be denied the right to make critical decisions or even visit their loved one in ICU, despite having built a life together. Without a solid will, if one partner passes away, the surviving person is often left powerless. They may have to endure costly legal battles to retain what they’ve built together, or worse, be left penniless if assets were solely in one person’s name.
A useful tip: if you leave a will, make sure to sign every single page. You’d be surprised how many people suddenly appear after someone dies, some you’ve never met, others you didn’t even know existed. The greed and toxicity that emerges in those moments can be utterly nauseating.
Amidst the turmoil, my LGBT family remained my pillar. A few long-time friends, some I knew before meeting my partner, offered much-needed support during some incredibly dark times. Though some have moved on or passed away, the unwavering support from a few of my closest, long-standing friends remains invaluable, it was my saving grace. There’s no way to fully express my gratitude, except to say thank you. Ironically, none of the acquaintances my partner introduced to me to during our relationship kept in touch after his passing. None of that relationships survived the progression of time and situation.
Family Ties
Acceptance from me and my family of each other came over many years, after a period where we communicated very little for quite a long time. Despite all that, I will never regret my decision to be true to myself rather than just fitting in.
I still prefer to keep a lot of my private life private, but my family and my partner are my best friends and have become my backbone. Today, my partner is part of my blood family, and I often feel like he is the favourite, which I love every minute of.
It took me a long time to forgive that hurt from my earlier years, even though we never discussed it. In later years, I was as much responsible for the divide between my siblings and parents as their initial reaction to my announcement. My anger at the initial judgement when I came out of the closet resulted in me keeping my distance as much as possible, and sharing very little of my life with my family for most of my younger years. I still do that, but not because the fear of being hurt or rejected by them. It has just become a habit which suits me.
Deceased Family Members
My mom has passed away on 6 June 2022, but when she did, her love was unconditional, and it has been for a long time. I miss her terribly, every day, and miss the long telephonic conversations we had every Sunday, even at times when I really didn’t feel like talking or calling much. My stepmom will never be my mom, but ironically, she has over the years become like a second mother figure to me.
After my dad passed away, to my surprise she and my mom became close friends, and also in-laws. When I outed myself, she never flinched, or judged, apart from bombarding me with countless questions about gay life whenever we spoke, as did my sister-in-law. It was weird, but also exceptionally comforting, knowing that there are people who have no problem in embracing diversity.
My brother’s kids are the closest I will ever come to having my own, which was my choice, but that is a different story. They are the apple of my eye and my heartthrob. They have become beautiful and exceptional young adults, and his daughter now has her own little boy. My brother passed away on 29 February 2024, a few days after his 52nd birthday and a 9-year struggle with total kidney failure.
Death Sentence
Due to the events of the last few years, Covid-19, lockdowns, and generally just life, my brother was never granted the privilege of getting a kidney transplant, despite having several compatible donors in the family from day one. He died young, but did have the blessing of seeing his grandson reaching an age where he is getting the personality of a very busy toddler, and seeing his youngest son find a job.
The greatest challenge when somebody is listed for organ transplant, it seems, is sometimes not finding compatible organs. It is about cutting through the endless loops of government and medical red tape to get the procedure done when you do have a compatible donor.
Chin Up
A lot of ugly have happened in our family. However, if it wasn’t for those circumstances where my dad took off when I was 12, my brother’s kids would never have been, neither would his grandkids and great-grandson. A lot of beauty has resulted from the destructive events in the past and the hurt from my youth. Despite everything, there are no regrets for what could have been, only gratitude for what is.
My stepmom has also told me many things about my dad I never knew lately, it has made me realise he may have been distant because he felt he failed his children. He may actually have been fine with it, if I ever told him about my sexuality. She most probably had the wisdom to realise that I didn’t want to discuss my dad until the last few years, and that at times I have come to miss him.
Bitterness Will Swallow You Whole
I recently spoke to my half-sisters and half-brother from my dad’s first marriage for the first time in almost three decades during a genealogy research trip. I could sense that a lot of my dad’s actions when they were kids have resulted in a lot of pain in their lives. They are a lot older than me, yet they still bear the scars, and some of them still have not forgiven him, even after death. One of them I have never met, although I would have loved to.
She opted not to meet, and indicated via one of her sisters that she wanted nothing to do with my dad’s extended family or any of her half-siblings. Holding on to anger and bitterness often damages yourself more than others. I hope forgiveness finds them all.
Is Society Finally Embracing Diversity?
In modern society, I hope it’s easier for young people to be themselves, express their identities without fear, and live their lives. Being older, I also understand that a lot of the way my family reacted when I outed myself was caused by fear of difference and misunderstanding.
People were raised to fear homosexuality from a young age, and it wasn’t just from their family. They don’t understand it, and I have found that many hate-mongers frequently fear and hate gay people when they feel something similar resonating within themselves. They fear themselves, and therefore abuse others.
Our legacy is that the forces that are supposed to protect all members of society, have taught us that it is all right to judge other people for no reason. Little understanding is needed to do so. It includes the government, society, parents, family, the law and the law-givers. Choosing whom to love is rarely a choice, and the journey is painful and scary. Nobody decides to live a life where they will be rejected, judged or purposely hurt, but typically, it is not a choice. It is what it is, and it is already a bumpy ride.
The Fight for Diversity: Remembering Stonewall
Gay rights are recognised in more places than ever before. These hard-won protections were the result of decades of struggle. Just as they were gained, they can be taken away, often swiftly and without remorse. The rollback can begin subtly: a court ruling in Namibia recognising same-sex partnerships overturned, or a sudden ban on transgender individuals serving in the military. Progress is fragile, and its enemies are patient.
I often wonder if we as gay people are failing, and responsible for the support of same-sex rights that is shrinking. It’s happening, day after day. Pride is to promote same-sex rights, to remind the world that there are diversity, which needs to happen. In other countries, Pride is an attempt to make people aware that in some cultures people can be killed for simply being gay, and it could be any culture tomorrow if it is left unchecked.
LGTBQ+ Responsibility to Same Rights
I am part and respect the LGBTQ+ community. I respect transgender people for the choices they made as adults, although I may not necessarily or agree associate with all of them. I hope and trust that as adults, they will know when to take action and when to ask guidance when they are unsure about what they want, or what gender the would like to associate with. Never had that problem, can’t speak for or against them. I do know that some people will abuse the rights LGBQ society have been fighting for, to benefit their own ends, when their morals are the question under scrutiny.
I am happy that I was a confused kid struggling with my sexuality at a period where sexuality was simply that, sexuality. A matter where being attracted to people from the same gender, nobody attempted to convince me I am attracted to people of the same gender because I wanted to be a girl, or some rhetoric bullshit like that.
While I am sure it may have been easier for a lot of people that don’t like the idea of having a homosexual kid or family member when I came out of the closet, it was never the issue. It still is not. I would have been pretty pissed off if somebody convinced me as a kid to have my private parts chopped off, growing up to find that was never my issue, but rather theirs, for which I have to now carry the longterm consequences because I was too young to even figure out what I wanted from live.
In my late fourtees, I still struggle at times with decisions about what I value in life, and what my goals are. I can only imagine how a chilld can be influenced by the discussions and decisions of the adult around them when they are trying to figure out what they want their life to be as a an adult.
Selective Gender
For me personally, the idea of selective gender is an issue. Biology defines gender. Men are men, woman are woman. I have had the experience where I met up with somebody that neglected to mention that they transgendered to being a man. When you first meet the fellow, you would hardly notice it, except maybe for a lack of an Adam’s Apple, but the rest looks just like a guy. I respect them for the choices thay made, for them, but where does that leave everybody else? I am not defined by my sexuality, but being gay, I am sexually attracted to somebody of the same gender, biologically. If biology doesn’t matter, what is sexuality? Where does it leave the rest of LGBT community when it is ok not to talk about that?
Rights for All
Pride marches where naked or semi-naked men and woman with whip and chain march down the streets where everyday parents and kids also have the right of way. As a parent, gay or straight, would you feel comfortable exposing todlers and children to adult fetishes and roleplay scenarions which probably belong in an appropriate adult setting, or the dark allies if a Pride afterparty, if that is your game.
Add to that, prisoners insisting on being housed in female prisons because they self-associate as female…. most likely just don’t want to become someone’s bitch, but then continue to rape women, impregnating them. Athletes using amenities for the opposite sex because they don’t identify as male, but abuse the protection that claim is meant to give transgender individuals by harassing and perving on woman in their own bathrooms. Use the cubicle in the men’s toilet if using the piss troth is uncomfortable. I do, and I am quite happy being just a normal guy that happen to be gay.
Often, when these transgressors are called out, gay activists and “wokees” are up in arms because the rights of these people are being “infringed” upon, rarely considering that it is a two-way street. You can not have a riot when gay rights is not beign respected, but you do not want to respect the rights of heterosexual and bisexual people. Equal is equal, and it goes both ways. It is not a one-way street. The voices of the gay community that state clearly that this is not who they are, and what they stand for, or what they want to be associated with, is drowned out in the noise of public riots and social media storms when the victim-narrative does not align with the real issues.
Recognising Sexual Equality
Having the same rights, no matter your sexuality, comes with responsibilities. When you fail to recognise that responsibility and choose not to condemn the transgressors who abuse those rights for their own benefit when the loudest voices screams they are being victimised, it reflects poorly on the LGBTQ+ community as a whole, not on the transgressor.
I love the diversity of the LGBTQ+ community: the leather guys, the bikers, queens, bears. But I need to ask this: is there a time and place for everything? Can diversity be on display in taste rather than in excess and sexual nuances? Factually, I know heterosexual folks have their kinks, I rarely see them marching down the streets in their fetish or roleplaying costumes, though. Can we expect to be treated fairly when there is so often so much condemnation of the different cultures withing the broader LGBT+ community by the community itself.
Teenagers be Teenagers
Children that is not old enough to drink, drive or work, but can decide as a teenager that they want to have a sex change. It seems insane that a youngster can make decisions affecting their entire life before they can even leave school. I find it confusing. Most teenagers are awkward and angry. They are going through changes they can hardly understand, in nature they are rebellious, and experience feelings and sexual attractions they do not comprehend and never dealt with before.
Children coming from abusive or absent parental homes deal with even more trauma. Maybe, a good counsellor should inform teenagers that all kids have a hard time when they enter early adulthood, they outgrow it. Suggest child therapy before suggesting a gender change. If that is still what a kid want to do as an adult, go for it, but do not force a child go through all that shit without even realising that kids grow up, they often outgrow these insecurities. Maybe they are just being teenagers with normal hormonal issues, and need somke guidance and info0rmation on sexualitty, not an entire identity make-over. Is it a money-making scam, or what is the deal?
Diversity
LGBT+ is proudly gay, but do we fail to recognise that we are not all the same, and we have the right to not all be the same. It would be a boring place if we were all carbon copies of the mould. We argue that our fetishes and sex life do not diminish us as responsible adults, but yet, often Pride marches have become a full-on display of bedroom fetishes and substance abuse, rather than showing that we are human, responsible adults, we just love and share our lives with people of the same gender.
It’s no joyride being treated as second-class citizens—or sometimes even less than human—because of your culture, identity, or sexuality. While we are fortunate in many ways, my partner and I have faced the double burden of prejudice time and again. In Namibia, we cannot live together openly unless we separate or maintain a long-distance relationship. Thankfully, our relationship is still legally recognised in South Africa—for now.
We have been blessed in many ways, but the future for us often seems hazy, unclear, because of our culture and the shade of our skin. Sins of an era before our adulthood are our inheritance, although I know my parents never got anything for free from anybody while we were growing up. Before they separated, they both worked long and hard hours; we rarely spent time with them except for month-end Sunday drives.
Keep Fighting
As it is, even while being protected in some places, discrimination happens, gay people remain an easy target where some will still think dehumanising and killing them is okay.
Recognise we have succeeded in having LGBT+ recognised in some places, but never stop the fight for equality, never stop being proud, never stop being who you are to make people feel comfortable around you, but choose the right battles at the right times. Only through discomfort can discussions ensue and open cards be dealt to balance the scales. There is a time and place for everything, and some elements will only serve to diminish the meaning of Pride, leaving the entire LGBT+ community worse off. If we don’t see that, the snowball effect will have us back to pre-Pride colonials in no time.
Evolution
I choose to believe that gay people are born because nature has to find a way of balancing and protecting itself. We already have a problem with over-population and a lack of resources on the planet we call home. Same-sex couples rarely have kids, except where they adopt and take care of children who do not have a stable home when legally permitted to do so, or go the surrogate route. However, my beliefs are irrelevant.
No one should be judged or persecuted for whom they love or how they decide to live their lives. Harm none purposely. Treat others the way you would like to be treated, regardless of religion, sexuality, race, or gender. Respect the planet, and remember it is fragile. There aren’t any others around. If there are, humans will most likely not have the technology to reach and populate these planets any time soon. It will be a better world for all if we remember, we are all people, and we only have one planet to share.
Gay Road
As a gay person, I still often find myself subconsciously searching for signs, words, and phrases that make me feel like I belong. I stopped trying to fit in a long time ago, so it may be a subliminal reaction to the confusion and judgement I felt growing up. Being in my forties now, I am very comfortable with whom I have become, but found it amusing when I visited Simonstown and stumbled across Gay Road. Wonder what inspired the street name.
When I looked it up online, I found little information apart from some property ads. I would presume that because most street names are old, except for the renaming of streets and areas to suit the African narrative, it was initially based on the word when it meant happy or light-hearted. If you know more about it, drop a note below. I would love to know more.
Old-fashioned gay adjective (HAPPY)
We had a gay old-time down at the dance hall.
If a place is gay, it is bright and attractive:
The streets were gay and full of people.
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Embracing Diversity: Out Of The LGBT+ Closet
Copyright © Anthony Gillespie
As a child, my understanding of homosexuality was shaped by questionable sources. Strange people in eccentric clothes on TV, church sermons preaching damnation to anyone who strayed from the heterosexual norm. The term “embracing diversity” would only come to make sense much later.
My perception of gay people was moulded negatively long before I even knew what it meant. Derogatory remarks from religious factions and mainstream media only reinforced this belief, strengthened further by similar remarks from those around me, often family members.
Back then, I had no understanding of sexuality, love, or acceptance. Sex was never discussed in our conservative household. These topics didn’t cross my mind, and terms like “moffie” and “faggot” meant nothing to me, except that they referred to outcasts and freaks of society. They were blamed for everything evil in the world and were sure to burn. It never occurred to me that the people being spoken about included me until much later.
Table of Contents
Younger Years
The first time I had a “wet dream,” I was convinced I had wet the bed. I was 12 years old and didn’t realise the sticky white substance coming out of me was anything apart from a normal pee. It had a different consistency and look, but what else could it be? I was so mortified and ashamed of wetting my bed that I washed my bedding in the wee hours of the morning and hid it from everyone for weeks.
My mom eventually caught on and sat me down to explain what was happening one morning at three am after waiting for me to make my detour to the laundry room. Although I was relieved to hear that it was a normal thing that happens to all teenagers, I still felt different. Growing up and understanding and accepting who I was often proved to be a challenging experience.
Broken Family Ties
My parents separated at age 12, the emotional turmoil took its toll to a whole new level, and somewhere along the line I decided to commit suicide, by drinking an entire bottle of Bob Martins. Luckily, we never really had many drugs in the house, and the lethal stuff was always locked up.
Suicide by doggy treats. Looking back, it seems silly, and at times I do feel I may have been a bit of a drama queen. The Bob Martins had very little ill effects, except maybe accounting for the amount of body hair I have as an adult, although I am pretty certain that belief is an old wife’s tale.
When your once happy family is falling apart, and you are a youngster with raging hormones, having a hard time understanding why you seem to be different, everything seems worse than it is. Being scared shitless that your parents will find out you are everything you were told most of your life, are evil, is no fun ride. It is traumatic, even if it is just kids stuff.
Acceptance
I had a small group of close friends most of my school life, but I mostly kept to myself. I even asked a girl out a few times to just feel a bit more normal, up to my senior years in high school. That is what young men do. It never lasted for long. The girls were friends, and there were many of them, but I would never be able to see them as anything more than friends. I definitely never felt any sexual attraction or the urge to copulate with them.
Having no point of reference to compare myself to, I struggled to understand why I was different and what it meant through most of my school years. I never spoke to anyone about how I experienced growing up in my early teenage years. The idea that somebody, especially my dad, would find out I was different, and were attracted to guys, most of them a few years older than myself, terrified me.
Coming Out
I finally outed myself as a gay man to my mom in my early twenties, about a year after my dad passed away. Coming out of the closet wasn’t the all-accepting experience I had hoped for. Her initial reaction was to ask me what she had done wrong that I turned out the way I did. It was a gut-wrenching moment. My mom and I were always close. She often had to work long, extended hours to make ends meet after my dad eloped. As a single parent, she provided as best as she could with the limited resources she had, with little to no help from my dad.
When I left her house after telling her I was gay, she informed the whole family, which made it easier for me not to have to tell everyone myself. It also caused a divide in our family that would never fully heal. For a few years, we hardly communicated with each other. I have learned to live my life in private.
The Challenge of Embracing Diversity
Sadly, many people, regardless of age, still live with secrets and are afraid of being judged, rejected, or hurting loved ones if they come out. It’s a sad reality that many countries also still prosecute and imprison same-sex couples, and that plenty of religious institutions still deny gay people the same basic human rights that they themselves feel they are entitled to.
There weren’t many of them, but over time, I had made a close-knit and small circle of friends. After coming out, my LGBT family provided much of the support I desperately needed to get to a place where I was ok with myself. Thinking back, many of my gay acquintences most likely were more into getting into my pants, rather than providing emotional support. At the time, their acceptance healed much of the pain caused by my outing experience.
In 2003, I met Dean. He was the second person I ever had a real relationship with. My first fling burned to a sudden and abrupt halt a few years earlier. He was the first partner I shared a home with. He passed away in 2006, a week before our 4th anniversary.
January 2005
Dean had been sick for months. No answers, and the medical bills piled up. Despite applying for hundreds of jobs, BEE or not, he wasn’t physically able to work, even if he found employment. I knew that, though I didn’t admit it at the time.
To cover our bills, I worked overtime regularly. After a year, we were no closer to understanding his health issues. I was exhausted, emotionally drained.
Household tasks and keeping the apartment tidy were all on me. As Dean’s health worsened, he did less and less around the house. I wanted to help, to make him feel better, but I had no idea how. Even though I knew many healthy HIV-positive people, AIDS never crossed my mind. It wasn’t until a friend who’d lived with HIV for years suggested it that I insisted he take the test. I had run out of answers long ago.
Guilt Trips
A few weeks before Dean passed, I came home late to a messy apartment. I’d stayed up past midnight cleaning the night before, but dirty dishes were piled high, and cups and glasses were scattered all over the living room. Dean sat there, looking frail. He’d had an accident in the bathroom earlier, which I had to clean up. I noticed how weak he appeared, but at that moment, I snapped, feeling helpless, frustrated, and exhausted. I angrily asked him why he couldn’t at least help with the cleaning, being home all day.
The next day, our GP called. It was an emergency. Unless Dean was admitted to the hospital immediately, he wouldn’t survive the week. The HIV test had been done a few weeks earlier, and Dean had been informed of the results just days before. His T-cell count was critical, yet he had refused to answer the phone or open the door when the GP came to our apartment. His office was across the street. I had no idea how little time we had left, but when I confronted him the previous evening, he was already terminal.
That incident still haunts me. I hope he forgave me. I try to remind myself, always, to take a moment to calm down before losing it. Emotional turbulence and helplessness often lead to words spoken in anger. Even unintentionally, words can never be taken back.
Loss
When Dean passed from an HIV-related illness in 2006, my family declined to attend his funeral when I asked them. I am a loner, and I am comfortable being on my own. Waiting for the results of my HIV test, and dealing with my now deceased partner’s estate that was anything but straightforward, left me doubting my ability to remain calm and collected. I was emotional, and in a state of depression, many times having suicidal thoughts.
The thing that kept me from doing something stupid was having a half-brother who did shoot himself many years ago, and recognising the devastating effect it had on my family, most especially on my mom.
I guess I simply needed somebody to tell me it will be ok, a support structure outside the immediate circle of friends we had. Being a loner, most of these were friends of my now deceased partner, and the rumours that were being spread surrounding the circumstances of his death and HIV status were pretty unpleasant. The number of friends who were suddenly having HIV tests done was staggering, and in my state of mind I trusted few people surrounding me, with many questions and suspicions milling through my head. Where, when, and who infected him with the virus?
Ghosts
Guilt stayed with me for years after Dean died. Did I not pay attention? How did I miss it? I knew the signs, I understood the virus? Was I too caught up in work? Could I have done something, anything, differently? Would he have survived? Did he trust me so little that he couldn’t be honest with me?
I felt stuck; hurt, angry, completely lost. The legal mess of his estate dragged on for five more years. During that time, I often thought about giving up. I never acted on it. Growing up, I saw how suicide tore through a family. I came close many times.
In between waves of rage and self-doubt, I buried myself in guilt inbetween pushing myself to often work 12 to 16 hours a day. I was angry with my family for not showing up. Angry with Dean, for hiding the truth, for not trusting me, for leaving me to carry the weight. But mostly, I was angry with myself. Taking on excessive work schedules was a way of coping without having to face the issues eating at me on the inside.
Life Goes On
Though I was physically healthy, my mental state was fragile at best. Generally, I felt trapped in a state of despair. I know I wasn’t the easiest person to be around, often keeping to myself.
It was through the art of street photography, a hobby I had abandoned as a child, that I discovered a simple truth: even though it feels like it will never end, life goes on. Shit happens, but time keeps moving forward.
It took five years. Everything my partner and I built together eventually slipped away. The estate was small, and the fight against his family, mentally and financially, wasn’t worth continuing.
Departed Legalities
It’s devastating how same-sex partnerships are treated when there’s no legal foundation to support them. Without a living will, the surviving partner may be denied the right to make critical decisions or even visit their loved one in ICU, despite having built a life together. Without a solid will, if one partner passes away, the surviving person is often left powerless. They may have to endure costly legal battles to retain what they’ve built together, or worse, be left penniless if assets were solely in one person’s name.
A useful tip: if you leave a will, make sure to sign every single page. You’d be surprised how many people suddenly appear after someone dies, some you’ve never met, others you didn’t even know existed. The greed and toxicity that emerges in those moments can be utterly nauseating.
Amidst the turmoil, my LGBT family remained my pillar. A few long-time friends, some I knew before meeting my partner, offered much-needed support during some incredibly dark times. Though some have moved on or passed away, the unwavering support from a few of my closest, long-standing friends remains invaluable, it was my saving grace. There’s no way to fully express my gratitude, except to say thank you. Ironically, none of the acquaintances my partner introduced to me to during our relationship kept in touch after his passing. None of that relationships survived the progression of time and situation.
Family Ties
Acceptance from me and my family of each other came over many years, after a period where we communicated very little for quite a long time. Despite all that, I will never regret my decision to be true to myself rather than just fitting in.
I still prefer to keep a lot of my private life private, but my family and my partner are my best friends and have become my backbone. Today, my partner is part of my blood family, and I often feel like he is the favourite, which I love every minute of.
It took me a long time to forgive that hurt from my earlier years, even though we never discussed it. In later years, I was as much responsible for the divide between my siblings and parents as their initial reaction to my announcement. My anger at the initial judgement when I came out of the closet resulted in me keeping my distance as much as possible, and sharing very little of my life with my family for most of my younger years. I still do that, but not because the fear of being hurt or rejected by them. It has just become a habit which suits me.
Deceased Family Members
My mom has passed away on 6 June 2022, but when she did, her love was unconditional, and it has been for a long time. I miss her terribly, every day, and miss the long telephonic conversations we had every Sunday, even at times when I really didn’t feel like talking or calling much. My stepmom will never be my mom, but ironically, she has over the years become like a second mother figure to me.
After my dad passed away, to my surprise she and my mom became close friends, and also in-laws. When I outed myself, she never flinched, or judged, apart from bombarding me with countless questions about gay life whenever we spoke, as did my sister-in-law. It was weird, but also exceptionally comforting, knowing that there are people who have no problem in embracing diversity.
My brother’s kids are the closest I will ever come to having my own, which was my choice, but that is a different story. They are the apple of my eye and my heartthrob. They have become beautiful and exceptional young adults, and his daughter now has her own little boy. My brother passed away on 29 February 2024, a few days after his 52nd birthday and a 9-year struggle with total kidney failure.
Death Sentence
Due to the events of the last few years, Covid-19, lockdowns, and generally just life, my brother was never granted the privilege of getting a kidney transplant, despite having several compatible donors in the family from day one. He died young, but did have the blessing of seeing his grandson reaching an age where he is getting the personality of a very busy toddler, and seeing his youngest son find a job.
The greatest challenge when somebody is listed for organ transplant, it seems, is sometimes not finding compatible organs. It is about cutting through the endless loops of government and medical red tape to get the procedure done when you do have a compatible donor.
Chin Up
A lot of ugly have happened in our family. However, if it wasn’t for those circumstances where my dad took off when I was 12, my brother’s kids would never have been, neither would his grandkids and great-grandson. A lot of beauty has resulted from the destructive events in the past and the hurt from my youth. Despite everything, there are no regrets for what could have been, only gratitude for what is.
My stepmom has also told me many things about my dad I never knew lately, it has made me realise he may have been distant because he felt he failed his children. He may actually have been fine with it, if I ever told him about my sexuality. She most probably had the wisdom to realise that I didn’t want to discuss my dad until the last few years, and that at times I have come to miss him.
Bitterness Will Swallow You Whole
I recently spoke to my half-sisters and half-brother from my dad’s first marriage for the first time in almost three decades during a genealogy research trip. I could sense that a lot of my dad’s actions when they were kids have resulted in a lot of pain in their lives. They are a lot older than me, yet they still bear the scars, and some of them still have not forgiven him, even after death. One of them I have never met, although I would have loved to.
She opted not to meet, and indicated via one of her sisters that she wanted nothing to do with my dad’s extended family or any of her half-siblings. Holding on to anger and bitterness often damages yourself more than others. I hope forgiveness finds them all.
Is Society Finally Embracing Diversity?
In modern society, I hope it’s easier for young people to be themselves, express their identities without fear, and live their lives. Being older, I also understand that a lot of the way my family reacted when I outed myself was caused by fear of difference and misunderstanding.
People were raised to fear homosexuality from a young age, and it wasn’t just from their family. They don’t understand it, and I have found that many hate-mongers frequently fear and hate gay people when they feel something similar resonating within themselves. They fear themselves, and therefore abuse others.
Our legacy is that the forces that are supposed to protect all members of society, have taught us that it is all right to judge other people for no reason. Little understanding is needed to do so. It includes the government, society, parents, family, the law and the law-givers. Choosing whom to love is rarely a choice, and the journey is painful and scary. Nobody decides to live a life where they will be rejected, judged or purposely hurt, but typically, it is not a choice. It is what it is, and it is already a bumpy ride.
The Fight for Diversity: Remembering Stonewall
Gay rights are recognised in more places than ever before. These hard-won protections were the result of decades of struggle. Just as they were gained, they can be taken away, often swiftly and without remorse. The rollback can begin subtly: a court ruling in Namibia recognising same-sex partnerships overturned, or a sudden ban on transgender individuals serving in the military. Progress is fragile, and its enemies are patient.
I often wonder if we as gay people are failing, and responsible for the support of same-sex rights that is shrinking. It’s happening, day after day. Pride is to promote same-sex rights, to remind the world that there are diversity, which needs to happen. In other countries, Pride is an attempt to make people aware that in some cultures people can be killed for simply being gay, and it could be any culture tomorrow if it is left unchecked.
LGTBQ+ Responsibility to Same Rights
I am part and respect the LGBTQ+ community. I respect transgender people for the choices they made as adults, although I may not necessarily or agree associate with all of them. I hope and trust that as adults, they will know when to take action and when to ask guidance when they are unsure about what they want, or what gender the would like to associate with. Never had that problem, can’t speak for or against them. I do know that some people will abuse the rights LGBQ society have been fighting for, to benefit their own ends, when their morals are the question under scrutiny.
I am happy that I was a confused kid struggling with my sexuality at a period where sexuality was simply that, sexuality. A matter where being attracted to people from the same gender, nobody attempted to convince me I am attracted to people of the same gender because I wanted to be a girl, or some rhetoric bullshit like that.
While I am sure it may have been easier for a lot of people that don’t like the idea of having a homosexual kid or family member when I came out of the closet, it was never the issue. It still is not. I would have been pretty pissed off if somebody convinced me as a kid to have my private parts chopped off, growing up to find that was never my issue, but rather theirs, for which I have to now carry the longterm consequences because I was too young to even figure out what I wanted from live.
In my late fourtees, I still struggle at times with decisions about what I value in life, and what my goals are. I can only imagine how a chilld can be influenced by the discussions and decisions of the adult around them when they are trying to figure out what they want their life to be as a an adult.
Selective Gender
For me personally, the idea of selective gender is an issue. Biology defines gender. Men are men, woman are woman. I have had the experience where I met up with somebody that neglected to mention that they transgendered to being a man. When you first meet the fellow, you would hardly notice it, except maybe for a lack of an Adam’s Apple, but the rest looks just like a guy. I respect them for the choices thay made, for them, but where does that leave everybody else? I am not defined by my sexuality, but being gay, I am sexually attracted to somebody of the same gender, biologically. If biology doesn’t matter, what is sexuality? Where does it leave the rest of LGBT community when it is ok not to talk about that?
Rights for All
Pride marches where naked or semi-naked men and woman with whip and chain march down the streets where everyday parents and kids also have the right of way. As a parent, gay or straight, would you feel comfortable exposing todlers and children to adult fetishes and roleplay scenarions which probably belong in an appropriate adult setting, or the dark allies if a Pride afterparty, if that is your game.
Add to that, prisoners insisting on being housed in female prisons because they self-associate as female…. most likely just don’t want to become someone’s bitch, but then continue to rape women, impregnating them. Athletes using amenities for the opposite sex because they don’t identify as male, but abuse the protection that claim is meant to give transgender individuals by harassing and perving on woman in their own bathrooms. Use the cubicle in the men’s toilet if using the piss troth is uncomfortable. I do, and I am quite happy being just a normal guy that happen to be gay.
Often, when these transgressors are called out, gay activists and “wokees” are up in arms because the rights of these people are being “infringed” upon, rarely considering that it is a two-way street. You can not have a riot when gay rights is not beign respected, but you do not want to respect the rights of heterosexual and bisexual people. Equal is equal, and it goes both ways. It is not a one-way street. The voices of the gay community that state clearly that this is not who they are, and what they stand for, or what they want to be associated with, is drowned out in the noise of public riots and social media storms when the victim-narrative does not align with the real issues.
Recognising Sexual Equality
Having the same rights, no matter your sexuality, comes with responsibilities. When you fail to recognise that responsibility and choose not to condemn the transgressors who abuse those rights for their own benefit when the loudest voices screams they are being victimised, it reflects poorly on the LGBTQ+ community as a whole, not on the transgressor.
I love the diversity of the LGBTQ+ community: the leather guys, the bikers, queens, bears. But I need to ask this: is there a time and place for everything? Can diversity be on display in taste rather than in excess and sexual nuances? Factually, I know heterosexual folks have their kinks, I rarely see them marching down the streets in their fetish or roleplaying costumes, though. Can we expect to be treated fairly when there is so often so much condemnation of the different cultures withing the broader LGBT+ community by the community itself.
Teenagers be Teenagers
Children that is not old enough to drink, drive or work, but can decide as a teenager that they want to have a sex change. It seems insane that a youngster can make decisions affecting their entire life before they can even leave school. I find it confusing. Most teenagers are awkward and angry. They are going through changes they can hardly understand, in nature they are rebellious, and experience feelings and sexual attractions they do not comprehend and never dealt with before.
Children coming from abusive or absent parental homes deal with even more trauma. Maybe, a good counsellor should inform teenagers that all kids have a hard time when they enter early adulthood, they outgrow it. Suggest child therapy before suggesting a gender change. If that is still what a kid want to do as an adult, go for it, but do not force a child go through all that shit without even realising that kids grow up, they often outgrow these insecurities. Maybe they are just being teenagers with normal hormonal issues, and need somke guidance and info0rmation on sexualitty, not an entire identity make-over. Is it a money-making scam, or what is the deal?
Diversity
LGBT+ is proudly gay, but do we fail to recognise that we are not all the same, and we have the right to not all be the same. It would be a boring place if we were all carbon copies of the mould. We argue that our fetishes and sex life do not diminish us as responsible adults, but yet, often Pride marches have become a full-on display of bedroom fetishes and substance abuse, rather than showing that we are human, responsible adults, we just love and share our lives with people of the same gender.
It’s no joyride being treated as second-class citizens—or sometimes even less than human—because of your culture, identity, or sexuality. While we are fortunate in many ways, my partner and I have faced the double burden of prejudice time and again. In Namibia, we cannot live together openly unless we separate or maintain a long-distance relationship. Thankfully, our relationship is still legally recognised in South Africa—for now.
We have been blessed in many ways, but the future for us often seems hazy, unclear, because of our culture and the shade of our skin. Sins of an era before our adulthood are our inheritance, although I know my parents never got anything for free from anybody while we were growing up. Before they separated, they both worked long and hard hours; we rarely spent time with them except for month-end Sunday drives.
Keep Fighting
As it is, even while being protected in some places, discrimination happens, gay people remain an easy target where some will still think dehumanising and killing them is okay.
Recognise we have succeeded in having LGBT+ recognised in some places, but never stop the fight for equality, never stop being proud, never stop being who you are to make people feel comfortable around you, but choose the right battles at the right times. Only through discomfort can discussions ensue and open cards be dealt to balance the scales. There is a time and place for everything, and some elements will only serve to diminish the meaning of Pride, leaving the entire LGBT+ community worse off. If we don’t see that, the snowball effect will have us back to pre-Pride colonials in no time.
Evolution
I choose to believe that gay people are born because nature has to find a way of balancing and protecting itself. We already have a problem with over-population and a lack of resources on the planet we call home. Same-sex couples rarely have kids, except where they adopt and take care of children who do not have a stable home when legally permitted to do so, or go the surrogate route. However, my beliefs are irrelevant.
No one should be judged or persecuted for whom they love or how they decide to live their lives. Harm none purposely. Treat others the way you would like to be treated, regardless of religion, sexuality, race, or gender. Respect the planet, and remember it is fragile. There aren’t any others around. If there are, humans will most likely not have the technology to reach and populate these planets any time soon. It will be a better world for all if we remember, we are all people, and we only have one planet to share.
Gay Road
As a gay person, I still often find myself subconsciously searching for signs, words, and phrases that make me feel like I belong. I stopped trying to fit in a long time ago, so it may be a subliminal reaction to the confusion and judgement I felt growing up. Being in my forties now, I am very comfortable with whom I have become, but found it amusing when I visited Simonstown and stumbled across Gay Road. Wonder what inspired the street name.
When I looked it up online, I found little information apart from some property ads. I would presume that because most street names are old, except for the renaming of streets and areas to suit the African narrative, it was initially based on the word when it meant happy or light-hearted. If you know more about it, drop a note below. I would love to know more.
Old-fashioned gay adjective (HAPPY)
gillespiea
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2023-04-09
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