celebrating and creating our own LGBTQ+ history in honour of Sheila McWattie

Archive for February, 2016

day twenty two


Time is fleeting running so fast.

A wealth of life experience building to the last.

Where did it go you ask as days race by

Life love living in the here and now

We are present, it’s our time,

Act Now, it’s Now!



Hilary Cooke, Medway

day twenty one


There’s a lady

Clattering up and down the carriage with a linen bag with cups and saucers in. She keeps moving about the train and clatter they go. In the finance of the carriage she tinkles and clatters. It’s as if she can’t hide the sound, that she knows people will think she stole them from a pricey hotel at lunch time. She wants to use them for some sort of fruit or herbal tea on a daily basis. Just stop clattering them. Please.



Adam, Kent


day twenty

The First One

So there we were, as a gay couple, now absorbed into the social life of the apartment block and invited, by our lovely neighbours, for drinks with the government Minister for the Arts and his charming wife.

With gin and tonic in hand we were introduced to her and about to indulge in the usual small talk one expects to have on these sort of occasions when out she comes with “So tell me Roger, how did you two meet?”

Our hostess, standing just a few feet away descended on us like a hawk and said “Well that’s a long story isn’t it, Roger” and promptly steered the lady away.

Well actually it wasn’t a long story at all, though it wasn’t exactly Barbara Cartland stuff either, for in truth we met in a public toilet! He was already in there, and I followed him in. It was lust at first sight; the meeting of our eyes being actually the second stage. Yet where else could we have met in 1969, life was different then. Grindr didnt exist in those days, even if it been spelled correctly. We often thought later that a blue plaque should have been erected on the wall of that toilet in honour of our love, but it wasn’t, and so we had to be content with naming our weekend house ‘Pinner Green Cottage’. “How quaint!” said our straight friends. “How hilarious!” said the others, in the know.

Thus began almost three decades of Valentines cards and the development of a relationship which carried with it most of what you would expect to find in any one, gay or straight; and, of course, there was one time the  ‘conversation with the flying plates’ too.

The happiness didn’t last, of course. Nothing is forever. There had to be an end and the end began with the development of his Alzheimers. He forgot so many things, even the ability to speak out loud, but after 8 years of decline he still remembered me, and kissed me. He could still mouth the words of the song ‘You are my sunshine, my only sunshine’ and on one day in March, when he came into the house, I kissed him and said “I don’t want to lose you yet” but only a few days after he got lost and that really was the end.

The Second One

I realised that, in spite of the pain, I was still in love with love and went in search of it, though this time public toilets were obviously not the best answer; in any case they were closing them down. No, my world was now more sophisticated and I decided to advertise in the gay press. To my amazement I had 20 replies some of which turned out to be mighty strange and some of them containing just a pack of lies about the sender. I quickly learned that telling the truth was the surest start for any successful relationship. Additionally, like the Pinner Green experience, there remained that element of risk. All relationships carry that burden.

One of my contacts lived refreshingly close to my town and we eventually decided to meet. This time he invited me to his house for dinner. I had read of the most dreadful things happening to gay men in such situations and I was scared. I made sure that someone close to me, knew what I was doing and off I set. Later on we recounted to friends how that evening worked out. It seemed that he was as anxious as me, and had left a letter upstairs giving details about me, just in case I turned out to be the mad axe murderer of Margate.

Thus began 7 years of our growing together. There were holidays spent together; the happy times when we shared our stories with others, as couples do; the times of being there for each other, when the chips were down; and finally, tragically, the seeing through to death and our saying farewell to each other, as most couples are likely to have to.


The Third One

I had been so in love twice now and I told myself that this had got to be the end of ‘that sort of thing’. Love brought just too much pain; best concentrate on cultivating self love instead, which seemed to be less risky and less time consuming too. Travel, culture, volunteering all filled the gap and there was also be the possibility of the occasional ‘fling’. Doing all that was surely quite enough for one life. Yet, to be honest, I knew, deep down, that, even though I was filling in time and achieving an element of happiness, I was not experiencing the real purpose of life, which, for me could only be discovered in loving and being loved. So off I set, once more, to find Mr. Right (what an idiot, eh?).

The internet was now my resource and a new world of discovery opened up. What did I discover? Firstly that so many of my contacts seemed to be seeking a carbon copy of themselves and were surprised at their consequent lack of success. That some had set ludicrous standards from others and that they were certain to be disappointed. I joked with all my partners that their trouble was that they weren’t as perfect as me, but some guys clearly meant it. Then I realised just how out of the closet I had actually become and that no relationship, however exciting, was going to force me back in. I remember telling one perspective lover that I felt like Archbishop Cranmer’s wife, who had to be hidden in a cupboard, when priests, like her husband, were forbidden to marry. Yes, I did also discover some who smelled money, and would have put up with anything if a pound or two was on offer. And then there were those who declared that age would be no problem for them, and then discovered that, actually, it was – you can’t have a partner who can remember the Coronation, can you? Finally, and perhaps most significantly there were those who would only pursue a relationship so long as it didn’t involve any possibility of making seriously deep changes in their own circumstances.

And then HE came along! I fancied him, the first time we met. He was totally unlike me. His experiences were not the same as mine. He hadn’t been to university. He didn’t have money. He didn’t have many interests the same as me. In fact we didn’t have much in common at all – mind you we can both snore for England!!! Yet we bonded. We discovered something about relationships, namely that they don’t magically just work, you have to work at them to be successful, and that is exactly what we have done. The end result is love which, has not been the immature variety of the cheap magazines, but is as St. Exupery puts it ‘love does not consist in gazing at each other – but in looking outward together in the same direction’.

So what is this love like? It is the discovery or the re-discovery that you are not two individuals together but that there are two of you who have become one. It is the action of two people making up for the vulnerability and fallibility of the other. It is two people sharing the same burdens. It is the joining of two separate remembrances into a new joint one. It is the creation of a united approach to other people and other things. It is the bestowing of freedom on the other so that the relationship is not confining but liberating. It is the rejoicing in the exploits, experiences and happiness of the other. It is the ability to smile at yourself and accept how ludicrous your responses can be. It is that feeling of safety as you mould yourself into each other’s arms. It is the joint fundamental realisation that nothing is forever, and that nothing is more important than the present.

I never thought that I would find that love again, but I did and I love you for it Nigel.



Roger Newman, Thanet


day nineteen


‘I was given Grandpa’s Panama after he was dead, it could have been my brother’s, had he had a smaller head’


Brodie, Brighton



day eighteen


by Butch Barbie, Liverpool



I love my dog

and my cat

my Mum

my friends

my gay family


I love being in Love

even when She breaks my heart

As does happen

To me



But I fall again

Into that wonderful abyss

the butterflies

the stomach flips

the twang in the groin

the ache

the desire

the yearning

the wanting

the panting

the kiss

The Release!


I escaped from Love

for many years

She distracts my brain


Just when I forgot

about Love


She snuck up on me


Remember Me?


I do.


You hurt me

again and again

But I did miss you

I am glad you are back

How long will you stay?




That wasn’t long.

Where is my dog

and my cat.


Hello Mum

Hello friends


I love YOU.






day seventeen


The function of the power of perceiving.


I hold my breath and look down, I visualise, I screw up my eyes and I hope. I hope this time when I look down I will see what I want to see, what I need to see, what I know I should see! Slowly I let the light flood into my eyes, my tired and weary eyes, eyes that have felt the burn of too many salty tears. My blurred vision quickly clears just in time for the tsunami of repulsion, confusion and dread to wash over me once more, as I gaze upon it. Limp and flaccid as it mocks and betrays my very core.  It denies who I am and will not allow me to forget, nor will it allow me to move on.

My mind drifts away as the breeze stirs through the conifers,  my eyes track the trails of a plane drifting across the pale blue sky, I wonder where it’s heading and think about its cargo of families heading away for half term in the sun, or meeting up with family separated by borders and continents.

BUZZ BUZZ….. BUZZ BUZZ….  I’m plucked from my daydreams by a nurse call buzzer, one of my fellow inmates calling for the nurse. I begin to remember what I was thinking about before I drifted away, my memories, my torment before I arrived here.  My fears and apprehension, the questions I asked myself a million times, can I do it? Will I do it? Should I do it? The answer the same each time, yes, yes and yes.

Monday was a bit of a blur really and such a long time ago now. Sure I remember parts of it before sleep came for me and drove away my tormentor. Tuesday though, I remember Tuesday! Tuesday is a day that will stay in my mind for a long time, probably forever in fact!

Tuesday was the day they took the bandages away and removed the dressings, Tuesday was the day I stopped visualising, no more screwing up my eyes and hoping, Tuesday was the day I looked down and saw ME for the first time, past the bruising and swelling I saw what I was always supposed to see, Tuesday was the day the tsunami came full of joy, full of peace and full of happiness. Tuesday was the day I stopped longing and wishing. Tuesday was the day I became whole.




Leah Gaynor, Dover


day sixteen



Meet me in a library if you think you have to leave me

Then I can hide behind the fiction

And not think about the drama

Perhaps I’d read some Stephen King as a way to face the horror

Of our own lives as they unravel

Like a badly written story.

It’s not easy when the night comes

And the world is full of demons

And you turn to face the one you love

And they turn to skin and bone


Meet me in a coffee bar if you’ve got something you need to tell me

And if you have to say it quickly

We can order an espresso

Because there’s not much time for reason when the shot is fast and bitter

Best to take it all in quickly

Before it blows your world completely.

It’s not easy when the night comes

And the world is full of demons

And you turn to face the one you love

And they turn to skin and bone


Meet me in a restaurant if you’re going to have to tell me

That you need a second course

And that it’s going to get much harder

I won’t pass any judgements and I won’t ask any questions

I’ll just hold you until the pain stops

Then we’ll rebuild our lives together.

It’s not easy when the night comes

And the world is full of demons

And you turn to face the one you love

And they turn to skin and bone


So we’re saying goodbye my Euroboy

Goodbye my Euroboy

Give him a hand with his luggage

Better kiss him on the forehead

Wave him off from the station

Secretly glad that he’s leaving

Because when he comes back, he’ll come back a man



Anon, Kent