Letting Go of Shame: A Gay Man’s Journey to Self-Love
I've carried shame my whole life, a heavy, uncomfortable burden. Growing up, I absorbed homophobia before I even understood it. The whispered warnings, the side glances, and the jokes at the expense of people like me, they all seeped in, shaping my self-perception before I could defend myself. Sadly, I was also responsible for sharing these jokes with others to cover up my own insecurities of who I really was.
Internalised Homophobia: The Roots of Shame
Even as a child, I sensed that being gay was something undesirable. When adults around me expressed discomfort or disgust when discussing homosexuality, it sent a clear message: it was wrong. This is how internalised homophobia takes root, subtly creeping in through cultural norms, media portrayals, and casual remarks. By the time I understood my own identity, self-acceptance felt impossible. The shame and fear of rejection led me to hide my true self, maintaining the cycle of internalised homophobia.
Even after coming out, the effects lingered. I second-guessed myself in relationships, felt uneasy showing affection in public, and sought validation from straight people. I monitored my behaviour, desperate to avoid the stereotypes I'd been taught to hate. I struggled with the fear of being "too much," too expressive, too flamboyant, and too openly affectionate, internalising the belief that my existence needed to be visually appealing for others to accept me.
I learnt to adapt, to blend in when necessary, and to mask my emotions in professional and social settings. But in doing so, I lost pieces of myself. The joy, the spontaneity, and the sense of freedom I longed for remained just out of reach, buried beneath years of conditioned shame and guilt.
The Burden of Shame and Guilt
Shame and guilt are destructive forces. They shape the way we see ourselves, how we interact with the world, and how we allow others to treat us.
Shame tells us we're fundamentally flawed, unworthy of love and happiness. Guilt makes us believe we've done something wrong simply by existing. For many in the gay community, these feelings stem from religious and cultural upbringings. People told me that being gay was wrong and a test of my strength, a challenge that required resistance. For years, I prayed every night, begging for change and pleading to be normal. The guilt was unbearable because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't change who I was.
Even those raised outside religion experience this burden. The fear of rejection and being different can make anyone suppress their true selves. We master the art of self-editing, reducing our true selves to gain acceptance.
It wasn't just the fear of external rejection; it was the internal battle that exhausted me the most. I convinced myself that if I was just more masculine, quieter, walked differently, or more reserved, I would be accepted. I let guilt dictate my relationships, leading me to believe that I wasn't deserving of the love I so deeply craved.
Unlearning the Shame
It took years to realise the problem wasn't me. A society that refused to embrace difference imposed the shame I carried. Once I understood that, I began unlearning.
Surrounding myself with accepting people was transformative. Finding my chosen family, other LGBTQ+ individuals and allies, helped dismantle the negative beliefs I'd absorbed. Their love and acceptance showed me what was possible. It wasn't just about hearing affirmations; it was about witnessing people live boldly, unapologetically, and with joy.
Therapy was also crucial. Speaking to someone who helped me untangle my emotions and challenge false narratives allowed me to heal. I discovered that only wrongdoing warrants guilt, and being ourselves is never wrong. Shame is someone else's baggage; I no longer have to carry it.
Reading stories of resilience within the gay community also helped me reframe my narrative. I found strength in knowing that generations before me had fought battles for visibility, dignity, and love. I wasn't alone in my journey.
Reclaiming Joy and Pride
Coming out was only the beginning of my journey. True liberation came when I allowed myself to take up space without apology, when I stopped minimising my queerness to make others comfortable, when I embraced my right to love and celebrate who I am.
I remember the first time I walked into a room without shame, held hands with a man without fear, and kissed him in public without looking around. These moments weren't just defiance; they were self-love.
Reclaiming my joy meant rewriting the way I viewed my own experiences. I celebrated the things I once feared: my laughter, my openness, and my ability to connect with others. I stopped measuring my worth against heteronormative expectations and started defining my happiness on my own terms.
The weight of homophobia, shame, and guilt does not disappear overnight. There are still days when old wounds open, when fear creeps in, when I catch myself slipping into self-doubt. But now, I have the tools to combat those feelings. I remind myself of how far I have come, of the love I have found, and of the resilience within me.
“Homophobia taught me shame, but love taught me freedom. And I choose love, every single time.”
A Message of Hope
If you're carrying shame, guilt, or fear, you're not alone. There's a community waiting to embrace you, a world beyond the narrow-minded beliefs that once held us captive, and cyclically these beliefs from some return to test us.
You deserve to live without fear. You deserve love that does not require you to shrink. You deserve to be exactly who you are.
Homophobia taught me shame, but love taught me freedom. And I choose love, every single time.
The Power of Connection and Healing
One of the most powerful lessons I’ve learnt is that connection is key to healing. When we isolate ourselves in our shame, it thrives. But when we share our struggles with those who understand, we lighten the burden.
Finding community, whether through support groups, therapy, or friendships, helped me break free from the limiting beliefs that had controlled me for so long. I found spaces where I could be vulnerable without fear, where my story was met with nods of understanding rather than judgement. Gay Fathers Worldwide was founded for this very reason, to provide connection, love and healing.
It’s important to note that healing is not linear. There will be setbacks, moments of doubt, and old wounds that open and resurface. But each step forward, each moment of choosing self-love over fear, creates a stronger foundation for a life lived authentically.
Expanding Self-Acceptance Through Advocacy
As I grew more confident, I realised that sharing my story wasn’t just personal, it was powerful. Speaking up about my struggles with shame, homophobia, and self-acceptance not only helped me process my experiences but also allowed others to see they weren’t alone. Bent Couch became a bright beacon to continue to shine this advocacy and open the doors to other struggling.
Advocacy became an extension of my healing. By mentoring other LGBTQ+ individuals, contributing to conversations about representation, and supporting mental health initiatives for queer communities, I found new purpose. Visibility matters, and being an active participant in creating safe spaces is a way of ensuring that no one else has to feel as alone as I once did.
A Final Reflection
Looking back, I see how far I’ve come. The boy who once prayed to be different, who walked through life afraid of his own reflection, has grown into a man who stands tall in his truth. I have learnt that my existence is not something to apologise for, to be controlled by governments, religion or cultures, but something to celebrate.
If you are struggling, know that there is freedom beyond the shame. There is empowerment in embracing yourself fully. There is joy in finding those who love you for exactly who you are.
Homophobia may have tried to define my story, but I am the one writing the ending. And I choose love. Every. Single. Time.
Shaun
