There’s a poignant moment in the 2026 British television min-series when the character Melba ( Paul Rhys) explains to Leo (Alan Cumming) that Gay rights have been rolled back decades with the election of populist right wing governments in the USA and parts of the EU. Melba no longer feels safe outside of the popular Gay enclaves of clubs and cafes where he lives. He suggests that coming out has made us feel less safe, and more vulnerable to persecution by homophobes, bullies and bigots who have no empathy or compassionate understanding of difference and how those of us who are different (which is the whole LGBTQIA+ communities) still live in fear and insecurity for our overall safety and well being, even in 2026! It is a series which pulls no punches on this topic, and on other sensitive issues around, sex, sexuality and sexual identity.

Whenever I watch, listen or read the personal stories of men like the former NRL player, Kane Evans, and his personal struggles in accepting himself as Gay, I am reminded of how it is the story of many of us who are held captive to the dialectical reasoning of heterosexuality, and what it means to be male when one is different.  

Conformity to a precondition notion of masculinity destroys lives. His deeply moving interview on how he has been fighting a war within since he was 15 years old, and it was not sustainable strongly resonated with my own story.

There is a strong element of toxicity in how cultures define masculinity and what it means to be male. Notwithstanding the progress on Gay rights, and the fact our rights are enshrined in legislation (well at least in more progressive Western societies), legislation alone doesn’t change people’s attitudes.

I wouldn’t want to go through my life again, growing up Gay. It was too difficult, extremely traumatic, and even when I did come out, it was disappointing in every way. Growing up I had a father who called me a sissy. He enrolled me in the local rugby league club when I was around 8 or 9 years old, and I was placed in the under 5st 7 oz. team. I loathed it with a passion, because I failed so miserably at the game. My father withdrew me because of the embarrassment it caused him. I never excelled in sport at high school, but completed the obligatory classes and endless harassment from the PE teacher. Although, as an adult I taught myself to swim, and eventually swam island to island marathons when posted to a school in Papua New Guinea. I ultimately entered triathlons when posted to the Middle East. I was very successful in these sporting pursuits.

I came out to my mother as an adult, some 20 years after my father died. She told me she didn’t want to talk about it, and to have regular health check-ups. She also said what I needed in my life was a good woman. My four brothers rejected me outright, and told me I wasn’t really gay. My sisters appeared indifferent at the time. My friends perceived me as a bit of a clown, attention seeking, and simply going through a stage in life. As a teenager, alcohol and drugs provided a kind of anaesthetic to the pain of living as a young homosexual. Several futile suicide attempts resulted in being sent to a family member’s in-laws farm for a couple of weeks to recover.

At 15 years of age I left high school. It was the usual nightmare; being bullied and called a homo and poofter because I didn’t fit in with the usual shenanigans in the playground, and because I found myself attracted to boys my own age. When I began working I visited my local GP, to see if he could cure me of my same sex attraction. He prescribed me diazepam, and sent me to a hypnotherapist, who tried to hypnotize me into heterosexuality.

I later sought out religion and religious life to escape the perceived curse of my homosexuality, only to be seduced by an older scholastic in my third year. After several months of an intense and passionate relationship within the privacy of our cloistered rooms I left, because I realized that being Gay and attempting to live a life of poverty, chastity and obedience wasn’t what I was cut out for. There’s no escaping who you are!

I sought out a former associate who was a Carmelite priest, and was hoping he’d help me find some kind of teaching or pastoral role after I left religious life. I invited him for a meal to discuss the possibility, only to be propositioned, grabbed and forcefully kissed with his tongue down my throat.

Later, I entered therapy. One therapist told me he didn’t think homosexuality was in my bones. Another one forced himself upon me with a tongue in mouth kiss, and in another session indecently assaulted me.

I had no idea how to meet anyone when I did come out, and could not assuage the deep loneliness in my life. Most of my encounters, like other Gay men who grew up in the 1950s and 1960s, were furtive ones; seeking out comfort and physical intimacy in the Gay bathhouses and Gay bars prevalent in the 1980s. But technology came to the rescue in the early 90s, and MIRC was developed. Its Gay only chat rooms enabled me to meet other Gay guys safely with a degree of anonymity.

I buried myself in academia as an adult, and became a teacher and higher education lecturer. Throughout my career in international education I was subject to bullying, homophobic slurs, and treated with suspicion because I was not married, and didn’t fit in with the heteronormativity of expatriate life. I recall once taking up a senior post in a country, and a member of staff from the school I had left wrote to someone he knew at the school of my new appointment. He told them I was a shirt lifter and a fudge packer. It didn’t bode well during the 4 years I endured at that school. When I did find other Gay men on the circuit, I was held captive to a somewhat cruel, camp clichéd culture, where if one didn’t participate or fit in, then there was simply no place for you. However; it wasn’t all so tragically Torch Song; there have been some wonderful moments of joy and celebration in my life

But, throughout my life I have defined my own pathway, especially through study and have been very successful, with four degrees including a doctorate under my belt. It meant sacrificing other areas of my life for 15 years. I also read everything I could find on the history of homosexuality from antiquity to the modern age. I read books by Catholic theologians who called for a greater tolerance and acceptance for Gay men, and for a balanced approach in the Catholic Church’s moral teachings on sexuality and sexual identity. I also wrote on these topics, quite successfully, with a couple of papers published in an International Educational Journal.

I am an old man now in my seventies, and on the fast track to my eighties, if I live that long. I acknowledge that I’ve had little success in any long term relationships; I think partly because I chose a serendipitous lifestyle, and worked and travelled instead of the usual stay in one place and settle down lifestyle. Perhaps also because of the traumatic upbringing I experienced; but more so because there were no Gay role models in my life that I knew of when I was growing up.

I recently lost a close friend of some 30 years, who was also Gay. Our friendship was platonic, but perhaps the closest I have had as a faithful, loving and dear companion.  There were other opportunities I missed, because of an earlier conditioned mistrust of close, intimate relationships. The several I have had lasted for only a couple of years, and ended due to my partners having affairs or simply meeting someone else.

Thus, Gay Pride. Yes, I am a proud old Gay man, yet there was a time when I was younger, when I could turn an eye or two on a busy street, and a chance encounter took place. But not now. I’m invisible. Yet, I look back on my life with its ups and downs, struggles, challenges and its successes, and having suffered the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, for being Gay, I am grateful for it.

So, thank you Kane Evans. You are a very brave and courageous man, and yes, you are very blessed that you can talk about your personal journey, and in the process save a life or two