Because I told him. And he was about as amazing about it as I could have hoped he might be. And now writing about all this feels a bit weird, because I’m not just writing about me and something that affects me. I know I’m anonymous, and by extension so is he, but it feels like I don’t have the right to talk about how he reacted in any detail. It’s not just my story any more. Continue reading
I’m 36, single and I live in London, but apart from that, I’m anonymous. Why? I suppose it boils down to the fact that I don’t think that this is anybody’s business but mine. (To be fair, my parents don’t even know that I’m doing this so I’m certainly not about to broadcast it to the rest of the world.)
My sister knows and a handful of my friends know – the ones I can trust, the ones who I know will get it, and will support me without patronising me, or pitying me, or making me the topic of their gossip.
Maybe I’m doing a lot of my friends Continue reading