Ever since I started writing here on this blog, I’ve been trying to work out the best way to tell you.

I alluded to it with numerous posts about musical theatre, and incredibly insightful articles on the inner workings of girls; something that a straight guy could never do, at least not with such alarming accuracy.

I even tried to tell you through my constant use, and love, of pink. My pink t-shirts, my pink scarves, my pink fluffy love-cuffs — I tried it all! Somehow… somehow you kept holding on, praying that it was all a ruse, a lie. He must be straight, surely…

I even thought it might’ve been the beard, so I shaved that off too.

I’ve told you tales of me waxing off my leg hair, and you’ve seen the photo of me with the handlebar moustache and hot-pink shoulder-padded jacket — that’s what I wear most weekends!

And then, of course, there were all those stories — the one about me turning a girl gay, or the next girl running off to become a priest. You didn’t actually think they were real? They were mere fabrications; figments of an imaginary world that I have lived in for the last decade. A world that I conjured into existence in an attempt to convince my family, my friends and myself that I’m straight.

Well, I’m not straight.

I’m gay.

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Gay, like Boy George rolling up at Mardi Gras in a baby-pink Mini. Gay.

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Time and time again I have sat down to dinner with my mother and father, unable to look them in the eye. ‘Got a girlfriend yet, Seb?’ followed by the words I’ve had to repeat each and every time, year after year: ‘No, not yet, Dad…’

Being a wimp — though, finally coming out must surely be the first step to getting some balls? — I thought I would post this entry, instead of telling my parents in person. They both read this blog.

So that’s that, then.

We have a family dinner tonight. I just know my father won’t be able to keep a straight face when dessert is served and I ask him to pass me the hot fudge sauce.

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Sebastian

I am a tall, hairy, British writer who blogs about technology, photography, travel, and whatever else catches my eye.

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