bitful

I've been working in the same team for fifteen months now and I have not told anyone I am gay.

Well, nobody asked - and I love and cherish the UK and the people who inhabit this glorious land because they mostly mind their bloody business, one of the qualities that earn my highest esteem and admiration.

Anyway.

These days of Pride celebrations I have been thinking a lot of old me, rather miserable in a previous life in a country where I thought I had no right to be respected for who I am. Hardly surprising, when you think that that country - Italy - five and a half years after I flicked the finger to it and left it for good, is still light years away from even the faintest, most watered-down concept of a recognised same-sex union. Or, to be entirely fair, of any sort of unmarried union, regardless of sexuality.

And so I thought I owed this to old me. I'd love to be able to go back and let my old self know that everything is going to be alright, that I will be living in a place where laws protect me and public opinion respects me.

But because I can't go back in time, I thought instead I'd ask Dr B. to be my 'plus one' at a work do next week. He said yes. I am thrilled.

I am gearing myself up for a reassuring anticlimax though: I have not told anyone, nobody asked, but I have a feeling everybody knows. As lovely Dr B. just told me, 'Do you expect them to think you are straight? Erm, have you seen yourself in a mirror?'

He might have a point.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, July 3rd, 2007 at 9:23 pm and is filed under gay, personal. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.