To the stage.

I was thirteen when I realised something was different. As I stood at the side of the dance floor at the school disco, bottle of pop in hand - I had what I would now describe as an anxiety attack. All I knew at the time was a sudden surge of nausea accompanied by an overwhelming feeling of impending doom, because I couldn’t stop looking at the girls.

When I got home my Mother knew something was wrong. I can’t remember what happened but I know I cried, and I know she told me not to worry. For a while her reassurance was enough. My Mother knew the conversation would resurface, that I would come to her with it at a later date when I wasn’t so afraid, or so young.

When I was eighteen that looming sense of shame returned and the following year; I was confined to my family home rarely getting out of bed, having multiple panic attacks a day. This wasn’t all down to that night at the school disco - it was a multitude of traumas, and realising I was different was the icing on a very anxious cake. My Father had bought me a guitar a few years previously, I hadn't used it much but during this time I picked it up. I started writing my thoughts down - a way of getting it out. I found freedom in writing and solace in learning to play. Somehow, at some point - it got better. My brain processed whatever it had shut me down for, and I emerged someone different. I accepted myself, and I knew I was going to move forward in truth, regardless of how frightened I was.

I sought representation in music, film, literature, pop culture and educated myself on the community’s history. I was elevated and shocked by stories of pride and adversity, of Stonewall and of freedom. I couldn't sit back and silently exist with them anymore. I finally came out and gained another family, and a new-found confidence in LGBTQ+ bars and clubs. I found a place in which I felt belonging, and things began to make sense.

I continued to practice writing music and became more committed to it after the unfortunate passing of my Father in 2016. We communicated a lot via email - he wrote: 'Please try and channel your energy into something personally positive and beautiful like your love of music and remember, I shall be thinking of you.'

So I did. I channelled everything into it - and I joined a band. When I stand on stage now I can't believe there was a time in my life where I didn't think I would live to see adulthood. That everything was going to come crashing down because of who I was and who I loved. So much fear, so much misunderstanding and so much shame. I certainly did not get any of those feelings from my parents, so where did they come from? History, society, expectation - 'the norm'. This is why we will always need pride. Things may have gotten better for our community but there is still work to be done, and decades of poisonous oppression and shame to undo - so that the younger generations and those to come, do not have to suffer this internalised guilt.

The tracks I have chosen for my Pride playlist are by LGBTQ+ artists past and present. A combination of those who paved the way and challenged the norm, to those representing and thriving now. All of these artists and songs have given me confidence, allowed me to reflect, comforted me in low periods and inspired me in my own music. So sit back, take a moment to embrace how far we've come and celebrate the talent and diversity of our community in music.

Love is love - and you are loved, too.

Follow this link for the playlist - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OxyD9fH1bQk&list=PLb_hI7USFWUNjIL7pCf9j8iF4pJrzgRTg&index=1