Make Grá the Law

It's half six in the morning and I cannot sleep. In half an hour's time the polling stations will open and Ireland will have the opportunity to vote for equality, in the marriage referendum. I genuinely wasn't planning on addressing anything online concerning this debate. I will explain why again, but today, right now I feel helpless and my urge to write has never been stronger. 

This post is not going to bombard you with constitutional acts or in-depth legislation reports. I'm not going to rhyme off a collection of statistics, polls or surveys in the hope of making you realise the seriousness of this topic. I will not mention or retaliate against anything the No campaign have brought forward or said, despite how much it might have denigrated, offended and upset me or others. 

This is just one person speaking to another. Because I feel that's almost being lost in the sea of abstract arguments and television debates that have overwhelmed us the last few weeks. My personal testimony isn't intended as a desperate, final attempt pity party, the last thing I want is your sympathy. I'm writing this to give people a small insight into what it's like to be an LGBTQ person in Ireland without equal rights and why as a result this referendum is so important.

 ( Photo via Yesequality.ie )

I was born in the maternity unit of Ealing General Hospital, West London on 7 January 1993. I was born with a fraternal older twin sister who arrived thirty-five minutes before me. I was born with bright blue eyes. I was born with two loving, eager but petrified first time parents. I was born with a streak of blonde hair. And I believe I was born gay.

From the offset society's expectations for me were very different, when you see a newborn baby boy lying in a bassinet in the maternity ward you don't ask the parents at what age do you think he'll come out or what do you think his first boyfriend will be like? From a young age I always knew deep down that I was different. When I was seven I wanted to play Barbies with my sisters and by eleven we had already started creating our own synchronised S Club 7 dance moves to showcase at parties. Back then I obviously had no idea over the impact my sexuality would have over my life. 

Coming into my early teen years I started questioning myself, at first assuming that everybody had these thoughts and it wasn't something to be spoken about, that it would eventually go away. But of course, it didn't. The shame, the fear, the panic soon began to consume me and dictate my life. Secrecy, insecurity, loneliness became my own self-inflicted punishment for thinking all these wrong, abnormal thoughts. I became obsessed with lying to myself. Tormented with self-hatred and conditioning myself into thinking that I was straight. Self-censoring, repressing fundamental aspects of my personality and who I was. Refusing to let those around me get to know me. It was a weight that eventually took its toll. I was sick of constantly battling with myself. I struggled for years against being gay, I didn't want to be different, I didn't want to be the object of ridicule and scorn. I was terrified of what lied ahead.

The everyday sneers, disgust and discrimination is something the LGBTQ community can relate to and identify with. People who wouldn't even know you, having personal discomfort with who you are. Belittling your entire existence. Who chooses to live a life full of risks, consequences, uncertainty and danger? Not having the same privileges as others. Having strangers actively campaign against your rights as a human being. Consistently dealing with confused glances and murmured whispers from onlookers. Being a form of amusement for groups of rambling teenagers or late night drunks. Being a target of abuse

 ( Photo via Broadsheet.ie )

This is only a small part of my story, throughout the world there's many others growing up in similar circumstances. Feeling less than their peers, living in fear of rejection, not only from the public but from family members, friends and loved ones. People enduring sleepless nights, experiencing relentless hardships. Exhausted from holding back with every ounce of strength who they truly are, unwilling, unable to accept themselves. A life of second-guessing and hesitation is all they know. Some of these LGBTQ youths have absolutely no one to confide in their loneliness. It destroys lives. 

Today, I love who I am and I'm so proud to be gay. It's taken me twenty-one years to learn to overcome my demons and reach this stage of acceptance. Everyone in life has various dreams and ambitions, but we all share one true desire, the thought of falling in love. Everyone deserves that chance. These hopes and aspirations are no different. An equal Ireland will be the start of a legacy for all those little boys and girls who are currently teased, who are afraid, who can't express themselves freely yet and don't even realise that they are allowed go against the grain to embrace their true selves.  

With this referendum the future of so many young people is at stake. In a world infused with homophobia today is a beacon of hope for so many. Please not only make the right choice but let people finally live their lives openly, fearlessly and proudly. A Yes vote carries a message to love and be supportive of all, regardless of the circumstances. I know we each have that power inside of us, but sometimes we all just need that extra push. 

 (Photo via Irishexaminer.ie )

4 comments Body Image, LGBTI, Lifestyle, Media, Opinion

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