On Discovering Queerness in Later Life

I was 47 when I recognised that I wasn’t exactly as straight as I’d heretofore assumed. Now, I flatter myself that I’m about as liberal, open-minded and sex-positive a human as you could hope to meet in normal life, and given that I’ve been pretty open on the kink scene for about 4 years, my ‘normal’ casts a pretty wide net. But no, as far as I was concerned up to that point, I was comfortable counting a pretty wide variety of LGBTQ+ people within my friendship group, openly and on Facebook, but it really wasn’t my thing.

Except. Except … Except lots of things, as it turns out. My fiancée Helena knew. She’d always kind of known, and there were lots of bits of our play that had dropped some pretty broad hints. I was quite happy to slip into a little pleated tartan skirt and take photos to send her, entirely because she ‘needed a laugh and a bit of cheering up’; when I was in San Francisco, I went underwear shopping in the Castro and browsed Grindr (strictly for research); I thoroughly enjoyed anal play (although I found it a difficult thing to ask for). I still deny that my willingness and ability to run up a set of curtains for me and lacy underwear for her on her sewing machine is an indicator.

Continue reading On Discovering Queerness in Later Life