My Story

My name is Spencer Cooper, I'm 19 years old, male and a student at Goldsmiths University in London. I am currently in my second year of Media and Communications which has opened my eyes to a variety of issues surrounding society in general but more specifically the LGBTQ+ community. It is because of this I felt the urge to build this platform and tell the stories that people are so open with and proud of in order to benefit others! I felt I should share my own story first, how can I expect others to share some of the most intimate and fearful moments of their lives if I don’t share mine?

To me, coming out is more about the acceptance of yourself. People always ask "When did you realise you were gay?", I don't think you realise as such. I found I was one of very few LGBTQ+ members in my hometown and during high school that meant to me that I should remain undercover. Why was I so different and where were my people? So when I eventually came out, it was to accept myself openly but also to bring my loved ones in on my journey of self discovery.

I was 17 when I came out, I was in my second year of college and I had exhausted myself in hiding how I felt and who I was. After speaking endlessly for days with a very close friend of mine at the time, I realised nobody in my friendship group cared whether I was gay, straight or anything else for that matter. I spent a long time conducting messages and writing to various group conversations on Facebook before receiving an overwhelming response from my friendship groups both in College and from High School. For me it was important to have the support of my friends first and then to run with that support and tell my family later.

I wanted everyone to know, myself mainly! But at the same time I didn't want anyone to know. The moment when you hit send just sends your body into shock, I was shaking and felt a surge of sickness run through me. The inner-tensions were beyond excruciating and I felt nothing but regret, before of course receiving the responses from my friends.

Like I said, I sat and conducted messages, first to my friends and then to my father. For some reason the only person I could tell in person was my mother, I waited until she had consumed a few drinks before I just let it out to her. She went on to discuss how "some people may be upset that they wouldn't receive grandchildren, but not her!" To which I couldn't help but giggle, and so I was the one reassuring her that it would be okay and I would love to have children some day. My father was next, never in a million years would I tell him face-to-face, so I told him in a text message, I apologised for bringing him shame and I hoped that this wouldn't change things for us. Our relationship has always been based on intellect and one-way conversations, he is highly intelligent, serious and a brilliant listener but often left my erratic stories and worries with little response or just laughed at my unnecessary dramatics. This taught me to structure how I put things across and to bring only matters of importance to him if I wanted a real, honest response that didn’t end with a joke. I don't remember the entire text message but I do remember asking specifically for him "NOT TO CALL ME!" as I would "freak out". This was an instruction I believed to be rather simple, until of course the phone started ringing. I was at my friend's house in Wrexham and I just didn't want to answer, eventually I picked up and he told me how proud he was of me and that he hoped I wouldn't force him into shopping trips (of which I had been doing for years!). After I knew my parents were okay with the fact and my friends were happy, if not overjoyed at my long awaited emergence from the closet, the rest of my family followed nicely one after another. One phone call at a time.

My reaction from coming out was extremely positive. I couldn't have asked for a better support network. It's interesting, once the people who matter to you know, it doesn't matter if anyone else in the world finds out, what can they do? The fear previous to coming out, is being outed by other people to those you care about, a situation that could spiral way out of your own control.

A response I received from the majority of my friends and family was that they had known for years about my sexuality. Whether this was linked to my persistence in performing shows every weekend dressed as cinderella or little red riding hood, with full make-up, tiara and (heels?) from the age of 6, I will leave that to them. However, this was an increasing pressure during my days in high school. Previous to high school you're painted a picture of an American high school setting, where those who fit in are popular and successful, and those who are different get their heads flushed. Well! Where did I fit into this narrative? I spent the entirety of my high school experience in denial. With very few other members of the LGBTQ+ community out or evident in the corridors I felt incredibly excluded. My sexuality did not control my life as such, but whenever I was asked "are you gay?" on a daily basis, I denied it every time and was sent into panic mode which I also had to hide. During one stage of high school I remember wondering how I could prove my 'straightness' to my friends. This resulted in the emergence of a made-up, online girlfriend. To this day I still don't know how I could be so stupid, but within an hour, I was bombarded with students asking me who she was and how we met, I continually tried to keep up this story but eventually I just blew. I ran upstairs to an empty classroom and hid from everyone, I wasn’t being bullied, but I had created a situation of which I couldn't see a happy ending. With the support of a teacher, I eventually went to class, told everyone I had made it up and moved on as swiftly as possible before another dramatic meltdown emerged. Years later me and my friends laugh this off, particularly since coming out. However I found the positive experience of coming out didn't come easy to me.