To Be a Gay Man by Will Young

Author:Will Young [Young, Will]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Biography & Autobiography, Personal Memoirs, Social Science, LGBTQ+ Studies, Gay Studies, Lesbian Studies
ISBN: 9780753554265
Google: fBSSDwAAQBAJ
Publisher: Random House
Published: 2020-09-03T20:49:41+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

Ancient and Modern Stereotypes and Homophobia

I recall, back in 2002, walking down Portobello Road, where there was an enormous poster for my first single, ‘Evergreen’. It was common for record companies then to put up a poster near the pop star’s home. As I walked past the poster, some builders on a site pointed up at the poster and called out to me.

‘Way-hey, Will! Go on, my son! You’re a handsome bastard, aren’t you? If I was gay, I’d have a go!’

I mean, it was just amazing. As so often throughout my life, the type of person I had thought would be the most terrifying was actually the most surprising. The obvious lad, for example; the builder. I have found that these guys often have the biggest hearts, and don’t give a shit about what you do or who you are; they just like people who are nice and down to earth. Still, as a gay man, and being a publicly gay man, I found myself putting people into categories based on whether I thought I would be safe or not. I became my own walking Mori poll for homophobia. I was, however, time and again, beautifully surprised by people from different ages, genders, religions or ethnic backgrounds. It was a constant source of joy and still is.

It saddens me that I found myself placing people into boxes and making assessments. I would call them ‘risk assessments’ rather than judgements, as I wasn’t looking to make moral assessments on people. It was more about whether I could get away with being publicly gay around these people. How young were they? What class? What culture? Were they posh? Were they businessmen? Having this radar was imperative. Ask most gay or queer people, and they will tell you that they have a radar, which is constantly on, scanning for danger. Being famous meant I had a double-radar, because I was always subconsciously looking around to see where a phone might be shoved in my face, or a piece of paper and a pen, or rush of ten people. This was my life. It was neither good nor bad; it just was what it was. Sometimes, my assessments about people were wrong, and I was happy to be proved wrong; yet often they were right, and I was desperately sad and hurt.

Having gone to public school, I’d spent a lot of my late teens in Chelsea with all the other rich privileged public-school boys from Eton and Harrow and Radley. It was a stomping ground I was familiar with, and I felt a certain affinity with many of the posh people who lived there. However, when I was walking by the Bluebird restaurant one day, someone driving by shouted at me in a posh voice:

‘Bumboy!’

I immediately felt exposed, ashamed and embarrassed. It’s strange; the silence that occurs after an insult has been hurled can be a silence that creates a sort of complicity. No one says anything; people walk on, and the

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