Growing up in my teens I had built a huge fear of rejection through seeing stories in film and TV that held me back from coming out whilst living at home.
It was only after I moved to London and built up a strong friendship group that I felt confident enough to come out, knowing I had a different family to turn to should things go wrong.
I planned to go home one weekend to tell my parents but when it came to it I never found the right moment, not even after the 3rd attempt. One day I got a bit drunk, rang home and told my mum. I was expecting rejection; it wasn’t a big issue for them. I was expecting tears; they stay true to the cold Northern stereotype and were very unemotional.
Whilst I had built up this huge fear, in the end it was the most anti-climactic experience ever, a non-event for my parents; far from the dramatic coming out story I was anticipating.
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