Dublin’s Pride Parade takes place today, but, 28 years after it began, coming out as lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgender is still a difficult process. Six people share their experiences
Patrick
18, Dublin student
When I was 14, Dad just asked me, “Are you gay?” I knew if I didn’t answer it would come up again, so I told him. It was fine and just left like that. He told the family for me. That part was easy. My mum worried because of the dangers or whatever.
School found out in fifth year. I thought school was okay, but as time went on it got harder. If you have anything different, people will pick on you. If it wasn’t being gay, it would have been something else. People would throw comments in front of teachers too. Teachers didn’t react. I found there were some teachers who would use homophobic slurs sometimes. There was the same teacher who used a racist slur too: it wasn’t just a gay thing.
I didn’t finish school. The bullying was one of the reasons. The guidance counsellor helped, but there was no LGBT – lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender – society, and out gay people had a tough time. We supported each other.
I suppose for younger kids I’d hope they could find a way to get rid of stress and stay in school. Just keep educating yourself. You’re just different, but there’s nothing wrong. School is not meant to be fun, but it is meant to be safe.
Peter Hussey
47, director of Kildare Youth Theatre, Newbridge
It was illegal to be gay from the start for me. I occasionally heard stories about people being arrested. It was 1982 when I was in college. The threat of Aids was massive. Everything was pitted against coming out socially and politically. In my Catholic boarding school, gay was seen as the worst sin. At 16, I felt different. I started pitting how I felt against the church teachings and knew that they must be wrong. By college, in NUI Maynooth, I still wasn’t out, but some older friends would have known. They would say, “It’s okay to be gay,” but I couldn’t come out and face the embarrassment. I had been lying for the four years. I still find young people who come to our youth theatre are dealing with this. If someone asked, I’d say no and change the topic quickly.
Then in 1990, the World Health Organisation with the stroke of a pen took being gay off the illness registry – the greatest advance in medical history. After that, David Norris was a hero for me. The social fear of being arrested has perhaps been replaced by bullying for the younger generation.
Theatre played a pivotal part for me in being who I am. We’re doing a show in schools about a girl who likes camogie and getting mucky and climbing trees, but her mother wants her to be more like the princess, pink-loving girl next door. So we have her meet Lady Gaga. That message that gender is socially constructed, and you should be how you feel, is important.
Toni
20, Donegal student and youth worker
I realised at 15 I am bisexual. Two months later I told my mum, who thought it was a phase, even though I have a gay older sister. For two years every girlfriend was referred to as my “friend”, until she met one that she hit it off with; then it was “your girlfriend”. The first time I knew Dad knew was when I was watching a Beyoncé music video. He walked in and I changed the channel. “That’s not like you to change the channel when a hot woman is on TV,” he said. I was 17 then – mortified!
I had one of the best coming-out school situations. I came out to friends in third year, and the whole school knew by fifth year. I went to a mixed school of 1,000 people, and they were just grand. If anyone slagged me, I just slagged them worse. After I came out, a lot of other people followed. One of the guys came up to me and said he was leaning towards the gay side but wanted to get married and have kids, and I had to explain to him that just because you’re gay doesn’t mean you can’t do that.
My friend had a conversation with her mam because she didn’t understand why we had gay pride and the term LGBT or how important it is to be visible. You have to come out all the time, whether it’s a new class or course. It’s a constant process.
Vanessa Lacey
47, development worker with Transgender Equality Network Ireland, Waterford
I’m out four years and have two kids, so it was more difficult. People close to me wanted me to leave Waterford, but I stayed. The kids wanted me to stay. I’m no longer in contact with family, unfortunately. That’s not the case with all trans people; it’s a generational thing. As a development worker, I’m seeing greater acceptance and people staying in marriages. There is still a low level of awareness.
I realised from my very first memories I identified as a girl, but I constructed myself as male and went along with society. Waterford in 1960 was not the place to come out.
I have a great relationship with my kids . They’re amazing. The internet provides people with more information, and knowledge is key to changing attitudes. Verbal hate crime and isolation are two of the worst factors. Only two countries in the whole of the EU do not have proper gender-recognition legislation: Ireland and Lithuania. The Government needs to engage with transgender organisations. If it was introduced properly, people could get their birth certs with their recognised gender. It would mean not having to bring in old birth cert to new jobs; you wouldn’t have to out yourself every time.
The transgender organisation that I rang saved my life. It was extremely scary, but with time and support I was able to deal with it all – and with the support of my children, without whom I wouldn’t be sitting here today. Growing up, every day you put on a mask and pretend to people, and that hurt my own family, because they couldn’t understand. Coming out was the hardest decision I ever made, but I don’t need to pretend. I’ve lost a lot but gained so much for being who I am.
Hayley Fox Roberts
45, Leitrim
I came out as a lesbian at 32. It may be all those years before I was working towards that point of awareness, but circumstances then gave me an opportunity to re-examine who I was. I was living in a small town with a man, and there was no gay community support. You could order Gay Community Newsmagazine. It came in a brown wrapper and felt like my connection to the outside world.
I had moved to Ireland two years earlier and was astounded that homosexuality was illegal. The terror that came with coming out in a small town was balanced by the liberation that came from realising who I was. In the end I knew that to stay in Longford would be detrimental to my mental health, so I did what most people did and went to Dublin.
I got a job in Gay Community News. It really helped, because the scene then was particularly pub orientated, and it would have been easy to get lost. GCN was a real community for me and allowed me to be myself. Smaller communities aren’t bad; it’s lack of awareness. Equal-status legislation and civil partnership are great, but they don’t change attitudes.
Fionn Scott
17, Dublin
I’m going into sixth year next September, and want to do medicine or youth work. I’ve been going to BeLonG To, an organisation for lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgendered people aged between 14 and 23, for the past year and a half, and it has inspired me.
I came out to my parents and my sister, so this is a big coming out to the rest of the family. I told my dad and sister about seven months ago. I started figuring it out when I was 14 and then, at 16, I took incentive to go to BeLonG To.
School is kind of mixed: it’s not the best place to come out. I didn’t go to PE class for a while, because it was tough. There aren’t many people out; there have been people who have been attacked. My school is trying to implement the Stand Up campaign to support LGBT people in school.
There’s layers of coming out – you can’t just throw yourself out there – but I do believe the mantra that it gets better. I wouldn’t hold hands with my boyfriend in public, because I wouldn’t want to add fuel to the fire. But I look at people at BeLonG To who are out and happy and I think, I can totally do that.
See belongto.org, teni.org