Pete Dillon reflects on the sometimes difficult lives of gay men in rural Victoria.
I guess I was lucky coming out when I did. Mostly because everyone I knew - and quite a few that I did not - had already guessed that I was gay.
But recently I’ve had to think about coming out a little more practically, as two people I know have made the very significant decision to confront the two-step process of outing themselves under different and challenging circumstances.
I say two-step, as there are two issues to consider when coming out.
The first is personally accepting and dealing with your sexuality. This is often the more difficult of the two steps. The second is telling the people who are important to you about your sexuality.
I wonder how most of us would go if we had to tell our wife of 15 plus years: the mother of our two teenage sons and our eight year old daughter? Or how some of us would go about sharing this information with our conservative, Liberal-voting family and work colleagues?
The stories I’m about to share are those of two guys I know whose circumstances are as I’ve just described.
Alex* is 36, and has two teenaged sons and a young daughter. This stay-at-home dad lives in a town of 350 people, not too far from the major rural centre where his wife works as a medical professional. Alex is engaged in various occupations in his local community; while his love is the theatre and the performing arts, with which he’s been involved for many years.
Alex recently had to confront who he is, because his marriage was failing and his wife needed answers – a perfectly reasonable request from anyone’s perspective. However, the ensuing events have caused all manner of trouble for Alex, his wife, his children and his family.
Alex won’t be able to confront his community. He’s already had to face his extended family, with whom he shares an incredibly close bond of love and friendship; and the difficult task of sitting down with his wife, Karen* to tell their children the news. Like any marriage breakdown, this is a difficult enough scenario; but asking your kids to confront your sexuality makes things even more challenging - especially when two of them are teenage boys.
How does Alex convince his wife and family that for the past 16 years he’s been a faithful and loyal husband and father who has not cheated or lied? How does he regain his family’s trust?
Then there’s Patrick*. Pat comes from a regional area on the banks of the Murray River. Aged 27, he’s never had sex - with anyone.
Pat’s a good looking fellow, works in a great job, has travelled overseas for work for extended periods, and has a mate – me - who lives life as an openly gay man. We share meals together on occasion, go out for a drink or to the footy, and have mutual friends with whom we spend time. But Pat can’t come out.
He’s from a conservative, religious family who are strong supporters of the Liberal Party. He’s scared of having a sexual relationship with a woman, as he knows it would be doomed to failure. Nor can he handle the thought of having a sexual encounter with a man. He’s stuck in a sort of sexual limbo that he won’t escape until he faces the question: can he live life as a gay man?
For many of my gay friends, both city folk and country boys and girls, the coming out process began with a hint, or inkling, from their parents or friends. Then, as each matures, the process becomes simpler.
I know many people who were disowned by their parents, siblings and friends. But I know so many more who have had the support of the people they love and respect - whether family or a broader community of friends, work colleagues and acquaintances.
It would be tempting to assume that in the enlightened times in which we live, coming out is no longer the challenge that it once was for those of us from rural communities who came out years ago. But Alex and Pat have to confront conservative families, friends and work colleagues; some of whom have never suspected the true sexual identity of their loved one, and who will now have to grapple with the idea that their brother, son, parent or in-law is not quite the person they’d grown to love.
Both men have to determine how their coming out will affect their families and their local communities. The adage of being ‘the only gay in the village’, especially for Alex, is not humorous. It’s all too real.
As my two friends start to gather their thoughts in order to determine what will be their next step, I’m thankful that I’m not in their shoes and having to face the consequences of their decisions. I can only support them, as their friend; as we should all support those around us when they need us.
* Names have been changed to protect people’s identities.
Pete Dillon reflects on the sometimes difficult lives of gay men in rural Victoria.
