|
To come out as gay or to be one is not the easiest thing at all I found. As a young boy living both London (from the age of 10 years old) and Somalia, I had vision, clear in my head that I will grow to love and be with another boy. Being stubborn and naive, I never registered the negativity of the community I was in towards the gay community. Maybe this was because I imagined there was a place where one day I will make this dream come true. Therefore, I did not paid attention towards them.
Of course, this was so important to me, to be with someone in loving relationship, because all of my classmates had it too. Its human need why should I be omitted, after all I am part of this world. I was jealous but my imagination of that place where one day I will make my dream come true gave me the strength to overcome the misery of not being able to be who I am. Living in strict family who banned all forms of entertainment such as TV at home lead me to dream and dream each day until I got lost in my fantasy world. It felt good. I was everything that I could not be in my community such as being part of romantic relationship. Of course, it is sad to feel this way at the beautiful ages from 11 year old to until 18 years of age when I decided I would move out of home and away from misery.
I was called names at home such as ‘Aisha’, which of course is feminine name. I was called softy and was constantly asked to ‘speak like a man'! This I hated. Being the eldest boy at home I felt smaller than my little brothers are, in fact I felt I did not exist at home at all. Of course, I made several mistakes (as they thought). I spent most of my time with my sister and mother because my father was the most difficult person to be close to. Like a man of his age he challenged me mentally and caused misery in our household. As a dedicated teacher he did taught us well which made him excellent teacher but heartless father. I learned to cook food, which was women’s role in Somali culture. In my GCSEs I took fashion textile at school where I designed a bra (this was embarrassing for my father). I sung in the shower and twice wore my mother’s dress (!). One might look at this scenario and say ‘what is wrong with that?’ Exactly. However, I was made to feel bad about these because it was not what my ‘other’ brothers or other boys in the community were doing. ‘Cooking? That is total gay’, said the elders in North London community. ‘Fashion’? The work of Queers’ was my father’s answer. I always felt I had potential to do well but was so let down by some of my family and the Somali community. Anyway, I moved out of home at 18 to study at University in another town.
Boy, this felt good. Really, good. The fact that I was out of the harassment, away from the jail into 3 foot by 3-foot room where I could dream was very liberating. This probably was not something I felt because I was gay but my straight friends were also eager to leave home. I only had excellent reason. I thought this is it I was free until I realised I had to go back home on every weekends where I was made to feel like shit. I was innocent young boy who did not do more than go to lectures and my room and I was accused of having sex with’ someone’ which is not clear man or woman which my father meant. Cheeky monkey. At university halls I was the most happiest. In my second year, all my straight friends had girlfriends. Therefore, I started looking someone for me. I came across ‘0800’ number advertised on the newspapers, which read ‘Chat with Gay men’. I did. It was liberating. I chat every evening until the phone bill mounted to high and come through my family’s letterbox. It was war at home but I met this person called Steven Frost. We chatted every day for hours adding on the phone bill. It felt great. I could sit with my friends, who I shared house with, head high as I also had romance blooming for me too. Months on end, we talked over the phone.
Steven Frost and I decided to meet up. He lived in Cleethorpes near Doncaster up in Derby shire. I decided to see him. I took the train from Kings Cross Station to Cleethorpes changing at Doncaster. I did not even know how he looked like. I got to the station feeling solitary, nervous and not knowing what to expect. I suddenly realised I was the only coloured person in the town. I rang Steven Frost and someone nearby answered the phone. I did not see first but I noticed he stood next to me. I looked at him for the first time. I was in love. He was 17 going to 18 and I was 18 going to 19. We both did not know what would happen. He looked at me in strange way like if he was expecting me to look in some other way. On the other hand, I was breathless seeing this beautiful hunk standing in front of me. It was getting dark so we walked out of the station to find me hostel to spend the night. We tried several hostels but no vacancy. I thought it was my colour. Who knows? As we knocked the door on one of the hostels, Steven gave me a kiss. My body melted at what turned out to be my first kiss ever. I was like if I died and went to heaven. I do not know if any one saw us, as it was dark.
Then Steven suggested we go to his house because his Aunt was not at home. We went to his place and sat at the couch. What happen there let us to his bedroom. Now was the moment I imagined so much. How do I put it into practice? We both did not know where to start. We were like two hungry ants who found pot of honey drowning in it as they feed their hunger. To me Steven was gorgeous, beautiful eyes and sensational kisser. His look assembled Shane from west life but with curtain hair that was gelled to neatness. We talked so much and I learned his mother gave up on him. His aunty did not treat him well and he had anger management disorder but never lost it while we were together. He said he was going to join the Army but now he want to come to London to move with me. Fat chance I thought. Not that I did not like him but what am I going to do about my family?
Steven and I spoke on the phone a lot. I went back to Cleethorpes several times and we stayed in Hostels having the best time together. One day we planned to go to the town centre and we went to this shopping mall. We behaved like proper teenagers giggling and eating ice cream. We watched a film and took so many funny photos, which I saw again after nearly ten years later. This beautiful day at the mall nearly turned into nightmare when some old man attacked me in Boots pharmacy calling me nigger. With the Doncaster accent, I did not hear it correct but I saw Steve pushed the man and got hold of my arm towards the exit. The man kept shouting and suddenly my brown colour got attention. I asked what happen and Steven told me the man was drunk and was treated badly by a black doctor while in London. Despite this incident, looking back, it was one of my best memories. I loved Cleethorpes, small town by the sea where children throw stones at the passing by trains at the railways. Steven worked part time for anglers. He always stank of the sea.
One day he left me in a Kebab shop. He crossed the street and went into a laundry where he watched me to see what I do. I was scared without him. It was late afternoon in springtime. I looked around but could not see him so I headed towards the hostel. I was mad, pissed, and furious. As I entered the hostel’s front door, he came in. I acted if nothing happened. We went into my room and had sex like mad. Then he asked me for money to buy drinks and I gave him £20. He constantly drank Bacardi Breezer and smoked like a chimney. I did not have any addiction then but was not against it either. I was still mad at him. We watched a bit of TV and then he disappeared knowing my train was in two hours. I just left and headed for London. He constantly called me for the whole four hours journey but I was mad at him so did not either answer or made quick short conversations.
Coming back to London and University I got busy. I had my sister who got married. Then I had Elective placement in two months later where I chose to go to Canada. It was the end of Cleethorpes, Steven Frost and the beginning of new life I did not see into it at that time. Going to Canada liberated me further. It has opened a door full of energy and excitement. Of course I went there as student but being placed in the middle of down town Toronto one couldn’t give blind eye to Queen Street gay couples holding hands as I head to my hotel after training at Toronto General hospital.
One Saturday, instinct in me followed a gay couple to a bookshop in Queen Street in search of discovering the gay scene and life _style_. I was so glad to have finally discovered this so I dived in to the books one by one. In London I had spend a lot of time in bookshops, although not gay but they had gay section. I looked around me with wide-open eyes to absorb every detail in the shop. Gay guys everywhere. There was no family to worry about. Its summer and I have shorts and vest. I dyed my hair the first night I landed with bronze copper and wore fake earring, which I made out of key ring. I was covered with Calvin Klein White sprit from Eaton centre shopping mall. I thought I was in heaven. People in the shop sensed my excitement brewing inside me. I received several glances but was too far new to have dealt with. I bought myself a book to read and walked out of the shop after about two hours. Then I discovered internet cafe, which happened to be gay as well so I got on gay.com in no time. I used this website in London to watch porn at the universities private study rooms. I met a person who we arranged to meet.
I headed towards the cinema at Young street where I arranged my new date. On the way, I discovered more cool bars and drop dead gorgeous boys. I was high with joy to be in one of my dreams. Never did I went into gay area where everyone seems be normal than what straight community or on TV portrait it as. Everyone was enjoying life to the full. Gay men looked fabulously dressed in latest fashion, worked out in the gym, and tanned body. They drank coffee and liquors with tasty meals outside restaurants and bars underneath the summer sunshine. Suddenly a group of boys got together at Starbucks coffee across the street. They all kissed on the cheeks and hugged one another. I suddenly felt cold in the heat and somehow jealous of how these gorgeous boys embraced each other’s company and not fought one another or acted like rude boys disturbing the piece from the serene atmosphere. That was the life I wanted to be part of.
I continued walking down Queen Street appreciating the Canadian life _style_ and a bit nervous about the person I am about to meet. I reached Young street and sat on the steps outside the cinema. I waited about 20 minutes when a young person about my age walked up to the cinema looking around for what it seemed to be someone else. He almost fit the de_script_ion of my date. I approached him with fixed eyes as he looked at me hard and then approved of me. He introduced himse as Jon and I introduced myself as James, a name I gave myself when I met Steven Frost. Jon was 19-year-old Canadian mixed with oriental. He carried School bag and deeply scented with Calvin Klein Obsession Night. He was my height but rugby build. Jon was excited to have met me and I was excited too but Jon was not the guys I usually go for. We have chatted along the way back to Queen Street. Jon lived in Niagra Falls with his sister and mother who recently he came out to. He told me his sister believed he was tricked into being gay and she believed he was not although she gave him support to deal with it. We decided to eat at Subway grabbing quick bite. Then it was time for me to head back to student halls to get changed for the evening.
On the way I have noticed posters on the newspaper boxes along the street. There were two cow boys sitting on a horse with beautiful hilly background. They held each other in caring masculine way while they sat front to back on the horse. I suddenly noticed Jon’s presence as I warmed towards him. The poster was Marlborough cigarette advertising and underneath it read ‘has safe sex, use condoms’. I cannot remember much of what we have talked about until we have reached the student halls at St Patrick Praed. I felt the excitement of Jon but I also felt he was self cautious. The Canadian Cadets were staying at the student halls as it was summer holidays. As we approached the building they lined in neat rows looking young and glamour in their army green uniforms. Some I recognised as they stayed adjacent rooms on the 7th floor. We went up to my room where I headed for the shower. I came back to Jon staring at the window which had views of the CN tower and the Blue Jays stadium as he applied hair jell from the sink in the room. He immediately complained about not getting the frizzy look he wanted to achieve.
So I gave him a hand. As I applied the gel on his soft dark hair I scented the sweet smell of his after shave. Still wearing only towel I started feeling warmth rushing up my body. Jon noticed my dilated pupils absorbing him completely. I felt the fast beat of his heart. Then something in me stopped going any further and I just said ‘that is it, done, you look great’. My outfit for that night did not surprise me. Inspired by the Canadian cadets earlier I put on Army green jumper from GAP and matching Jeans which lasted me till this day. Despite the long day I had I was ever so full of energy to survive the night ahead.
We went down and out of the student hall building. It was now dark but very warm outside. Everything still looks big and just how I saw North America on films. We grabbed Red Dragon which was like Red Bull and speeded back to Queen Street. We scanned all the vibrant bars and clubs. My eye caught a bar across the road named ‘Woody’s’. I quickly recognised this bar from my travel guide book which I read this section and book marked on the flight in. Woody’s bar was the best place to hang around. It always had something going on, all different things at the same time. It had snooker table which attracted masculine gorgeous boys. There were drag shows which I found hilariously funny. I had my eyes wide open and this energy which I did not knew where it came from just kept kicking in me. I scanned my horizon using my first gaydar for the first time ever.
TO BE CONTINUEED.......
 Quote this article on your site
Only registered users can write comments.
Please login or register. Powered by AkoComment Tweaked Special Edition v.1.4.6
AkoComment © Copyright 2004 by Arthur Konze - www.mamboportal.com
All right reserved |
