Gay Shorts

By Iain Dale

When Matthew Todd, editor of the bestselling gay lifestyle magazine Attitude, approached broadcaster and political pundit Iain Dale asking him to write a monthly column for the publication, Dale did not have to think twice about his answer. That was back in early 2013 and, since then, Dale has written over twenty columns - or 'gay shorts' - on a variety of subjects appealing to Attitude's readership and beyond. Although initially brought on board to bring more politics to the magazine than its usual contributors, Dale's columns have strayed well beyond the realms of his briefing. Ranging from the emotional and personal to the humorous and sarcastic, his writing is always thought-provoking and entertaining. Now, in one accessible volume, comes a compilation of Dale's best pieces in this fantastic magazine. If you've never read Attitude before, here is all the encouragement you need to take out a subscription!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Biteback Publishing
• Release date: Feb 19, 2015
• ISBN: 9781849548830

Iain Dale

Iain Dale is an award-winning broadcaster with LBC Radio and presents their evening show. He co-presents the For the Many podcast with Jacqui Smith. He has written or edited more than 50 books, including Kings and Queens, The Presidents, The Prime Ministers, On This Day in Politics and Why Can’t We All Just Get Along. Signed copies of all his books can be ordered from www.politicos.co.uk. He is on all social media platforms @iaindale. He lives in Tunbridge Wells.

Book preview

Coming out and why Christmases are difficult

I have been with my partner for eighteen years and yet, until last year, we had never spent a Christmas together. I had always gone to my parents’ in Essex and he to his parents’ in Kent. In later years, he’d make an escape and join me at my parents’ in the evening, but neither of us found it satisfactory.

Why then did we do it? Simple. Because both of us feared that the very year we chose to spend Christmas together would be followed by the death of one of our parents. Irrational, maybe, but one year we would have been right.

This is not something unique to gay couples, of course. Yet, for many gay couples, Christmas can be a time when tricky choices have to be made, especially by those who haven’t come out to their parents. And, even in these enlightened days, there are still many gay people who find that particular conversation difficult to have.

I had that conversation at the ripe old age of forty. My parents had known my partner for five or six years and he often joined me for the weekend at their home. But the penny hadn’t dropped. He was my friend and they liked him very much. But the fact that he was more than that never seemed to click with them. By way of contrast, my partner came out to his parents at the age of sixteen and didn’t like the fact that I wasn’t prepared to rock the parental boat. He was right, of course. I was being a coward.

But when I decided to try to be a Tory MP, I decided that I had to tell my parents I was gay. Everyone in Westminster knew, but I didn’t want the parents reading about it in the Daily Telegraph or one of their friends saying something inopportune. I decided to do it when I reached the second round of a parliamentary selection – possibly not the best or most courageous criterion to use to come out. I remember that drive round the M25 and up the M11 as if it were yesterday. I rehearsed in my mind what I would say, but nothing ever seemed right. Everyone kept saying to me: ‘Don’t worry, it won’t come as a surprise to them. They must know.’ I doubted that very much. After all, I knew my parents, and they didn’t.

My dad is always good in a crisis. He is a man of few words, but I was fairly confident he would be OK. My mother was the sweetest and most kindly woman in the world but I sensed it would be more difficult for her. I won’t go into the details of the conversation but it wasn’t an easy one. There was incomprehension, bemusement and a degree of horror. I explained that John was much more than a friend, that I loved him very deeply and I hoped they could bring themselves to accept that. My dad gave me a hug but my mum just had a far-away look on her face.

But all was well that ended well. They continued to welcome John into their home, came to treat him as a son-in-law and both came to our civil partnership in 2008. However, the subject of my gayness was never spoken of again. My mother died last June. I loved her with all my heart but, in my soul, I know how much I hurt her. But, in the end, we can’t live our lives for other people, no matter how much we love them. We have to be true to ourselves. That’s not being selfish, it’s being honest.

I suspect Christmas is a time when lots of gay people come out to their parents. Is it the best time to do it? Probably not, but for many people there is never a good time and the longer you leave it, the more difficult it can get. Attitudes have changed over the generations, but, for some people, it will never be easy.

Last year was the first year I spent a full Christmas Day with John, but I spent most of it in bed with flu. This year we’ll be in our new home in Norfolk with only the dogs for company. And a Christmas tree. Happy Christmas!

Choosing to be gay

I’ve always known I was gay. Well, when I say ‘always’, I mean I knew I was different to other boys almost from the age of seven or eight. I have absolutely no doubt that I was born gay, yet I find it bizarre that some find that difficult to accept. There are still misguided souls who believe that people choose to be gay.

Well, perhaps we gayers play up to that a little nowadays. After all, legend has it we have the best music, we’re better looking (I exclude myself!), we have the best fashion and we have better skin (I don’t exclude myself from that one). But it wasn’t always like that.

People who believe we all choose to be gay should think back to when I was growing up in the 1970s. Homosexuality wasn’t illegal, but it might as well have been. Being raised in a small village in Essex meant conformity to a relatively conservative rural lifestyle. I loved my childhood and wouldn’t change it for a minute, but it did mean hiding a part of who I was, even from those closest to me. To have come out would have been unthinkable.

To most people, homosexuality came in the form of John Inman and Larry Grayson. It meant camp cries of ‘shut that door’ or ‘I’m free’. It meant furtive fumbles in public toilets. In short, it was seen as a perversion, which few were willing to even try to understand or