The exact moment I realised I was a gay gypsy terrified me – but it was family's reaction that really shocked me
MARRYING a woman and having lots of children is how those in the traveller community expected my life to play out.
So when I finally found the courage to break from the Romany Gypsy 'normal' and face the fact that I wanted to be with a man instead I was terrified about how they would react - and I was right to be concerned.
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I come from a family of travellers and men who confess they're gay face the wrath of the community. I've known some take their own lives because the struggle to admit the truth is too difficult.
It's so rare to come out as gay I felt frightened.
Now, I am married to a man - we have four kids together with two more on the way.
From an early age I knew I was different but when I was 18 and kissed a man for the first time I knew there was no turning back.
During my childhood the other boys loved nothing more than mucking about on the Piddlehinton traveller site, near Dorchester in Dorset, where I spent most of my youth.
I wasn't like them - they'd climb trees, make dens and mess about mending cars.
I joined in because I was expected to but at the slightest excuse I'd creep back to my mum's caravan, and help her with the cooking.
I loved the warmth and the delicious smells - I even liked helping her clean by doing the mopping.
I'd watch my older relatives who were so capable and comfortable cutting down trees or working in gardens unable to imagine ever being like them.
They'd say I'd soon be working with them - they'd teach me the skills - but I felt suffocated.
I'm a gypsy & there's strict rules about how me and my man behave in public
As I grew up other traveller boys left school at 11 or 12 and started helping out round the site and going out washing cars.
I was so grateful my mum was determined I'd get an education – even though teachers told her I'd never be academic and the most they could expect was that I'd leave being able to read and write.
It was a double-edged sword though because I didn't fit in at school and was mercilessly bullied. I was called 'gypo' or 'the gypsy boy'- I never felt like I belonged.
I desperately tried to be like the other traveller boys.
I started dating a traveller girl when I was 12 which was arranged and I had to talk to her father before we could date. When she moved on a year later I pretended to be upset, but in reality I was glad. Though back then I really didn't know why.
Until I was about 14, I admitted to myself I might be gay - but even then I hoped it was a matter of finding the right girlfriend and my feelings would go away. I forced myself to date girls from school and when I was 16 I even slept with a few of them.
I've always loved women but I'm not attracted to them and I remember my brain telling me 'you will like it', but going through the motions during sex felt like torture.
I'm one of the only men I know who was pleased to discover that one of my teenage girlfriends was cheating on me – it felt as though her secret boyfriend was doing me a favour.
It was when I was 18 that I started tentatively exploring being with men. By then I was studying an access course to get into university and become a paramedic – something I'd longed to do after helping to care for my grandfather in his later years.
The course was based in Weymouth but other students lived in Bournemouth so I'd socialise there, away from the eyes of the traveller community. I felt safe that I wouldn't be found out.
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Kissing a man for the first time at 18 was the defining moment that put me on the path to where I am now.
Filled with terror
But I was filled with terror. There were no gay gypsy role models I could look up to, no one I could confide in.
It was meeting Andy, now 30, through friends that gave me the impetus to 'come out'. I was 21 and he was 18 and I fell in love and trusted him and knew he'd support me through the inevitable turmoil.
It was exhausting hiding him from my family and in 2013, six months after we started seeing each other, I confided in my aunt.
She was like a second mum so when she asked me why I was so miserable I blurted out the truth.
Her response was incredible and beyond unexpected – she told me that as long as Andy made me happy that was what mattered.
But she also said it was a secret too big to keep and she offered to break the news to my mum - her sister - for me.
While they were talking I packed my bags, shaking with anxiety as I stuffed my clothes into four bin bags, so convinced I couldn't stay.
Mum returned from my aunt's house shocked and crying which made me feel both guilty and sad. She told me she loved me but needed space.
I went to live with Andy in Bournemouth and I never went back to the traveller site.
There was gossip, and one person even refused to share my drink in case he 'caught' being gay. That comment made me more determined than ever to succeed.
I avoided traveller gatherings for two years because I didn't want to cope with any other comments.
Mum didn't really talk to me for three months – I understood, she had to wrap her head around it and she was so worried for me and how my life would play out.
I knew only too well how hard it was for her to grasp – in some travelling communities men are forced into marriage rather than coming out and I was worried that the whole community would turn not only on me, but on my mum too. I didn't fear physical attacks, but I didn't want to be shunned either.
During the months that followed I concentrated on my relationship with Andy. He was so supportive and reassuring and I focused on my studies and ambition to become a paramedic.
It's terrifying breaking out from what's normal in your family. Though I was happy with Andy, our happiness was tainted because I felt I was letting everyone down.
However as with so many things, time was a great healer.
'They watch me'
Gradually, mum and I started talking again and while it took a couple of years for her to accept Andrew into her heart, she now refers to him as her 'second son'.
I always say being a traveller is like being a member of the Royal Family - both are steeped in tradition and rules. It's more acceptable to get a girl pregnant at 15 in my community than come out as gay.
I knew mum really accepted who I am seven years ago. Andy, an electrician, and I bought a four-bedroom house in Bournemouth and she moved in with us.
Though she now accepts us fully and the three of us still share the same house we are careful when we mix with the community at weddings and funerals.
I wouldn't dream of kissing or holding hands with Andy because I know it would make people feel uncomfortable and in turn I would feel the same.
And I accept that – I don't blame them, it's hard to let go of your 'normal' and adjust. Fellow guests sometimes look at me with curiosity as if I've sprung two heads and a tail - they watch me all the time.
After Andy proposed on a beach in Gran Canaria in 2013 we finally married in September 2022. We decided to go abroad to Cyprus to combine a wedding and a holiday.
We invited over a hundred guests but only 60 came - 15 from the travelling community.
I think some genuinely couldn't afford it but I'm sure others didn't feel comfortable - but that's OK.
I wonder if subconsciously I went abroad as I was worried people wouldn't join us.
Being a dad is something I've always wanted.
Two years ago we adopted four children and we're in the process of adopting two more – so at least I'm going to conform with the gypsy community that way, because they too love a big family. Life is chaotic, but wonderful.
I look back on that scared, confused young boy who was terrified he'd never fit in and I wish I could tell him how amazing his life would turn out to be.
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