To mark the first anniversary of the marriage-equality referendum, Charlie Bird asks gay people, and their relatives, how Ireland has changed for them. Among them are Garry Hynes, Bill Hughes, Erney Breytenbach, Brandon Martin, Vivian Cummins, Enda Morgan, Rachel Morgan and Marion Doherty.
Rachel Morgan: ‘I thought, If I’m gay and somebody asks I will deny it’
It was around the age of 12 or 13 that I started to realise that I was a little bit different, without even recognising what that meant or how I was different. But it wasn’t until I turned 21 that it really hit me like a ton of bricks. It was completely inescapable at that point.
But I had always thought to myself that if I’m gay, and if somebody asks me, I will deny it. I will marry a man. I will have two and a half children and all the usual stuff. I was only telling Marion the other day how it was so all-consuming.
At that stage it still absolutely terrified me. Nobody was going to know. Telling Mum and Dad was just not on the agenda.
Eventually I met a girl in Galway. We started going out, getting to know other gay people, and that was how it all began. But I was telling my college friends I was going out with friends from home and telling my home friends that I was going out with friends from college, and my parents thought I was somewhere else.
And that had a really big effect on my mental health at the time. I remember I had gone to Galway to meet some friends in the gay community, and I had told everybody else I was somewhere else. When I was driving home from Galway I was thinking, Where will I tell them I was? I had a huge anxiety attack . All of a sudden I started feeling really weak and warm.
I pulled in on the side of the road, and I rang my mother. I said, “Something is happening. I can’t breathe.” The ambulance took me to Tullamore hospital. I had never really heard of an anxiety attack before.
When I eventually sat down with my parents I just couldn’t get the words out. I am sure everybody who is gay will agree that actually saying the words “I am gay” out loud is probably the most difficult thing ever, because you are kind of saying it to yourself as well.
The way my dad describes when I came out is a bit of a blur to me, because I was a complete basket case, shaking and bawling crying. My parents were absolutely incredible. And after I told them I got to untangle the web of lies I had created. The anxiety just started to go away on its own.
And now I’m obviously flying. I met Marion a couple of years ago. We are engaged. Everything is completely different to what it used to be.
Marion Doherty: ‘When I joined the Garda I kept it from everyone’
I am from a village in Co Donegal called Dungloe. I wouldn’t say I knew I was gay from the age of 12, but I would say I knew I was different. I wouldn’t have had access like Rachel would have had to social media or the internet. So there was nobody to talk to. I used to think that the only way around this was probably to move away.
I would never have had a boyfriend, but I went through the motions. Went to dances, kissed a couple of boys, just because you had to. The last time I kissed a boy I was about 19, and I just thought, That’s enough of that. I’m not going to pretend any more.
I applied for a couple of jobs in Dublin, got one, and just bit the bullet and moved down. I was 22, and my family didn’t know. So when I moved to Dublin I remember telling my mum, and asking her not to say it to anyone else. I was very nervous. I just sat down at the kitchen table and thought, Right, it’s now or never.
I remember getting really upset, and she was really concerned. She kept saying, “What’s wrong with you?” I couldn’t get the words out. It was a wave of emotion. And then, when I got the words out, there were floods of tears and apologising. I was, like, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I don’t want to be like this, but I can’t help it.” She was very good.
It was a weight off my shoulders, but I still didn’t want my dad to know. I was always a daddy’s girl, and I never wanted to let him down. The worst thing I did was to completely deny it when I was confronted by him, and I probably kept up that pretence for another six months.
But it all came to a head, and I had to tell him. Looking back now, it was crazy – and such a waste of a good seven years that I could have just been myself.
At the start when I joined the Garda I kept it from everyone that I was gay, which again was a mistake. The close group of friends I made when I went to Templemore first, I kept it from all of them throughout the two years’ training. You don’t want to walk in the door of your first station and have them think that you are the gay one.
So it was another hiding thing. It puts a burden on you, because it’s another web of lies that you are creating. But as I built friendships I would have confided with one or two people. So eventually everybody knew, and I have never had any difficulty.
Now I am completely comfortable with myself. Looking back, it was an unnecessary burden, because every time someone found out they were perfectly fine. It’s been great now everyone knows. Everyone is delighted to see me settle with Rachel. We’re getting married in August. We’re both going to wear dresses.
Enda Morgan ‘The day Rachel came out to my wife and me, her anxiety stopped’
I’m a married man with four children. My eldest daughter is Rachel. About five years ago Rachel came out to my wife and myself. It was a very harrowing evening when that happened. Not because Rachel is gay – my eldest brother is also gay. What was harrowing about that evening was how upset Rachel was when she told us. She was shaking. She was crying uncontrollably. In such a situation it is very difficult to be a parent and to hold your child in your arms. It was very distressing.
What distressed me most was that Rachel had bottled this up for a number of years before she spoke to us. Rachel had suffered from anxiety and panic attacks for over a year. We couldn’t figure out why. But from the day Rachel came out to us this anxiety stopped. She just blossomed and flourished.
Two years ago she met Marion, the love of her life. Rachel and Marion are deeply in love. It’s the same love that I have for my wife.
I work as a wedding musician. The first same-sex civil partnership I played at was after Rachel had come out to us, and I found it really, really emotional. I looked around the room: grannies, grandads, aunts and uncles. Everybody had a wonderful day.
And the love that walked into that room is the same love that walks into every wedding that I play at.
We have to make our children comfortable, so they don’t have to live with the type of anxiety Rachel experienced. Everybody has a touching point with someone in the LGBT community. It’s our LGBT family.
