Mum’s The Word

The relationship between a mother and her (gay) son is a well known, special bond. She’s usually our greatest protector, the one we confide in, and undoubtedly the most important woman in our lives. Ben Kelly meets three Attitude readers and their mums to chat about growing up, coming out, and staying close.

WORDS BY BEN KELLY

PHOTOGRAPHY BY FRANCISCO GOMEZ DE VILLABOA

ADRIAN (33) AND GILL (69), LONDON

ADRIAN

I’ve never been that close to my dad, but it didn’t really make a difference because Mum was like my mum, dad, auntie and uncle, all rolled into one, so I never felt I missed out on anything. I was at every after school club: drama, gymnastics, swimming. I had a bit of a hippie upbringing. Mum never had us christened, because she said, ‘You might want to marry a Muslim, or a Buddhist,’ which I always admired.

She was very much of the mindset that you can do whatever you want, or be whoever you want. That’s why I went into acting. All my other friends’ parents were worried about it not working out for me, but Mum just said, ‘You can give it up tomorrow, if you want. Just do it for as long as you enjoy it’. She was so encouraging, but I never felt pressured about anything. It was always about doing your best. She would have celebrated if I got a Grade D in something.

When the acting became quite serious, she was working as a nurse, and she took on a second job to send me to drama school, literally scraping together the pennies to send me. Still there was no pressure for me to have to stay – which I think is the reason why I did. She would say, ‘If you want to stop tomorrow, you can’. Other parents would force their kids and bribe them with rewards, but my mum was never pushy. I came out to her when I was about 20, and the only reason I waited until then was because I wanted to be in a serious relationship, which I was then. It was a bit of a big thing for me, but I knew she’d be OK with it.

We used to have a spare room, and she rented it out to a transvestite, when I was about eight or nine. He used to come to our house because he couldn’t be himself anywhere else, and he would dress up in our home, wearing dresses and make up, and she would compliment him. One of the things that really stuck in my mind was that he came in and sat down, all dressed up, but still with a bit of a beard, and me and my brother started giggling, because we were kids. Mum brought us into the kitchen and said, ‘What are you laughing at? How dare you. People will make fun of you because of who you are, so don’t you ever treat someone else like that again’. That really stuck with me; I never forgot that.