Behind the Olympic glory, one of our swimming greats was drowning.
It is hard to know where to start. Considering my sexuality and grappling with it has consumed my thoughts for so long, I figured it would be easy to put pen to paper and write about it, though as I have found out, it is not easy at all.
Being a gay man with a foot half in and out of the closet is tough; the games it plays with your mind - and more importantly, your heart - are hard to put into words but I am going to try my best.
I finally accepted my sexuality at the end of 2006 following a huge anxiety attack at work. After what were literally years of torment, denial and very, very dark times, I couldn't live a lie to myself any more.
You often read that when people came out they had felt depressed or had suicidal tendencies. I, like them, experienced all of the extremes, but mostly it was the loneliness that was the hardest part of being gay - and still is.
The number of times I have sat on the couch or lain in bed bawling my eyes out, scared and fearful of the future, are too many to mention. I know that people, regardless of their sexuality, experience this feeling, but stupidly in my mind I honestly felt that there was nowhere to go.
I am not sure if being an elite athlete and the values you are supposed to live by compounded this, but it definitely didn't help the situation.
My family, close friends and, of late, my current work colleagues have been very supportive. These people, possibly already suspecting ''what team I batted for'', were always protective. Their protection became even more apparent in social situations where I would notice them deflect negative comments away from me once I had actually told them I was gay.
Regardless of this unconditional support, though, the feeling of isolation is still extremely difficult to deal with. Quite often you don't know where to turn or who to talk to and who to trust.
Growing up in sport and subsequently working in it has made the whole acceptance of who I am extremely difficult for many reasons, but most of all for feeling as though there was nobody there to help me through. I am aware there are phone numbers you can call for advice and support, but it was so hard because there seemed to be a lack of accessible role models who were also elite athletes.
I often think that if I had had people to look up to, to read about, who were elite athletes and were easily accessible - people who had lived some of my experiences as an athlete - then it would have helped the situation. It would have made it easier. But having lived it, I do understand why so few elite athletes have come out. In Australia, there have been Ian Roberts and more recently Matthew Mitcham.
Speculation, gossip, rumour and innuendo are common practice; we all do it, I know I have been guilty of it. Living the lie and deflecting the innuendo grows tiring. It is emotionally exhausting and it flat out hurts no matter how hard you try to block it out. I would be extremely well off if someone gave me 10 cents every time I heard the comment ''don't listen to it''. But, like the gossiping itself, it is almost impossible not to.
This year, more than I can remember in recent times, it seems as though there have been an influx of coming-out stories or gay points of conversation. For the people coming out it is no doubt a courageous step and I truly admire them and am inspired by their stories.
Being a gay man and wanting to talk about it is not just about being more comfortable with who I am but also a reflection of the world we live in. It is 2010 and while there is still a long way to go, there is no question the world is a little more accepting of homosexuality.
I recently read in The Sunday Age (''Stars of the AFL come out for gays'', 11/4) that the AFL, perceived as one of the last bastions of masculinity and homophobia, through its players association was taking a stance to stamp out homophobia by featuring some of its players in a series of campaigns.
This is a huge step and as a gay man something I am extremely appreciative of because at the end of the day this support, and in turn education, is what is needed.
As an elite athlete and career education adviser, day to day I work with athletes promoting balance in their lives and being true to themselves. I can't help but feel like a hypocrite when I haven't been doing it myself.
They inspire me to be a better person and I have worked so hard for their respect.
My only fear in writing this is I truly hope my relationships don't change and that they, like their AFL counterparts, can lead the way in helping to break down barriers.
It has been said, and will continue to be said, that even if you don't think you know a gay person, chances are you do.
Try to put yourself in that person's shoes. Imagine feeling as though you have nobody, being alone and feeling that you don't have anywhere to turn. You may not respect, understand or agree with their sexual orientation, but I hope you can find it in your heart to understand that they may, like so many people, feel a terrible loneliness.
Despite the dark, fearful and lonely times, being able to write this fills me with a sense of freedom, pride and relief. There truly is a genuine sense that everything will be OK.
I wrestled for a long, long time wondering whether being gay made me a bad person, but I can no longer fight who I am and that, simply put, is just me.
It is hard to know where to start. Considering my sexuality and grappling with it has consumed my thoughts for so long, I figured it would be easy to put pen to paper and write about it, though as I have found out, it is not easy at all.
Being a gay man with a foot half in and out of the closet is tough; the games it plays with your mind - and more importantly, your heart - are hard to put into words but I am going to try my best.
I finally accepted my sexuality at the end of 2006 following a huge anxiety attack at work. After what were literally years of torment, denial and very, very dark times, I couldn't live a lie to myself any more.
You often read that when people came out they had felt depressed or had suicidal tendencies. I, like them, experienced all of the extremes, but mostly it was the loneliness that was the hardest part of being gay - and still is.
The number of times I have sat on the couch or lain in bed bawling my eyes out, scared and fearful of the future, are too many to mention. I know that people, regardless of their sexuality, experience this feeling, but stupidly in my mind I honestly felt that there was nowhere to go.
I am not sure if being an elite athlete and the values you are supposed to live by compounded this, but it definitely didn't help the situation.
My family, close friends and, of late, my current work colleagues have been very supportive. These people, possibly already suspecting ''what team I batted for'', were always protective. Their protection became even more apparent in social situations where I would notice them deflect negative comments away from me once I had actually told them I was gay.
Regardless of this unconditional support, though, the feeling of isolation is still extremely difficult to deal with. Quite often you don't know where to turn or who to talk to and who to trust.
Growing up in sport and subsequently working in it has made the whole acceptance of who I am extremely difficult for many reasons, but most of all for feeling as though there was nobody there to help me through. I am aware there are phone numbers you can call for advice and support, but it was so hard because there seemed to be a lack of accessible role models who were also elite athletes.
I often think that if I had had people to look up to, to read about, who were elite athletes and were easily accessible - people who had lived some of my experiences as an athlete - then it would have helped the situation. It would have made it easier. But having lived it, I do understand why so few elite athletes have come out. In Australia, there have been Ian Roberts and more recently Matthew Mitcham.
Speculation, gossip, rumour and innuendo are common practice; we all do it, I know I have been guilty of it. Living the lie and deflecting the innuendo grows tiring. It is emotionally exhausting and it flat out hurts no matter how hard you try to block it out. I would be extremely well off if someone gave me 10 cents every time I heard the comment ''don't listen to it''. But, like the gossiping itself, it is almost impossible not to.
This year, more than I can remember in recent times, it seems as though there have been an influx of coming-out stories or gay points of conversation. For the people coming out it is no doubt a courageous step and I truly admire them and am inspired by their stories.
Being a gay man and wanting to talk about it is not just about being more comfortable with who I am but also a reflection of the world we live in. It is 2010 and while there is still a long way to go, there is no question the world is a little more accepting of homosexuality.
I recently read in The Sunday Age (''Stars of the AFL come out for gays'', 11/4) that the AFL, perceived as one of the last bastions of masculinity and homophobia, through its players association was taking a stance to stamp out homophobia by featuring some of its players in a series of campaigns.
This is a huge step and as a gay man something I am extremely appreciative of because at the end of the day this support, and in turn education, is what is needed.
As an elite athlete and career education adviser, day to day I work with athletes promoting balance in their lives and being true to themselves. I can't help but feel like a hypocrite when I haven't been doing it myself.
They inspire me to be a better person and I have worked so hard for their respect.
My only fear in writing this is I truly hope my relationships don't change and that they, like their AFL counterparts, can lead the way in helping to break down barriers.
It has been said, and will continue to be said, that even if you don't think you know a gay person, chances are you do.
Try to put yourself in that person's shoes. Imagine feeling as though you have nobody, being alone and feeling that you don't have anywhere to turn. You may not respect, understand or agree with their sexual orientation, but I hope you can find it in your heart to understand that they may, like so many people, feel a terrible loneliness.
Despite the dark, fearful and lonely times, being able to write this fills me with a sense of freedom, pride and relief. There truly is a genuine sense that everything will be OK.
I wrestled for a long, long time wondering whether being gay made me a bad person, but I can no longer fight who I am and that, simply put, is just me.
Daniel Kowalski.
What a great letter! I cried reading it. I think a lot of us feel that way.
ReplyDeleteThat was a refreshingly honest letter. Yet another one of us is free. :)
ReplyDeleteAwesome...made me teary too!
ReplyDelete