In 2010 my dad came out.
(That’s him and me in the picture, a few years earlier).
In part thanks to this poster.
My sister, brother and I were huddled round this poster outside our local cinema.
“So, what would you do if this happened to us?” my dad asked. “Imagine I suddenly turned round and told you I was gay?” We shrugged in that typical indifferent teenage way and muttered something about it only being a film. Jeez dad.
The following week my dad came out.
Our version of events wasn’t exactly ‘Hollywood’.
IRL we don’t have big life-changing epiphanies. See, my dad knew he was gay for a long time, my mum knew he was gay for a long time, in fact we all knew.
Of course there were critics.
And the biggest blow came when the worst critics ended up being his parents, my grandparents.
But we soldier on…
Our Christmas dinners are filled with boyfriends, step-children and confused acquaintances but we somehow make it work.
And I couldn’t be more grateful to have a gay dad.
I am freakin’ proud of him, and here’s why.