‘In gay years, you’re rather past your sell-by date, aren’t you?’ the person in front of me said, raising an eyebrow. 

The ‘witticism’ was far from original – it’s actually a bit of a running joke in the LGBTQ+ community. And if a friend had said it, I probably would have laughed briefly and moved on, not thinking anything of it. 

But as it came from a relative stranger, the controversial quip felt more derisory than jovial.

Maybe it hit home that bit harder because it came just a few weeks after another younger person condescendingly commented on my age — something I rarely voluntarily disclose for precisely this reason, but in this instance, they had asked and I told them. 

The person said, with a sardonic tone, it must be nice to be older and wiser. 

I replied by saying, yes I see it as a blessing to be older and wiser because many gay men who came before me had their lives cut short in their prime because of AIDS.   

But quite frankly, I was affronted. Because, at 43, I’m discovering that ageism is the last acceptable form of prejudice amongst the LGBTQ+ community. 

To be honest, my age still shocks me. How on earth did I end up in my mid-40s?

I’m not complaining, of course, because I’m happy to be alive. But when I say it feels like I went from 18 to 43 in a flash, that’s no exaggeration. 

I remember an older gay acquaintance once told me to ‘enjoy the halcyon gay years because you’ll be 40 in no time.’ It turns out, they were right.

But they hadn’t warned me about the prejudice I’d face. 

When I was a cocky 20-year-old I, too, was dismissive of older gay people because I was small-minded and thought the gay scene was solely for the young.

I was fixated on appearance and driven by lust. A superficial young queen.  

Then, I entered into a relationship with someone older and as I began to regularly mix with his friends, my ageist attitudes fell away and my mindset changed. 

I realised that mixing with people you wouldn’t normally come into contact with — people beyond one’s age group and spectrum of like-minded friends — broadens the mind and breaks down pre-existing prejudices. Put plainly, it’s seeing humanity in others. 

Now that I am of a ‘certain age’ myself, I see that same behaviour being directed towards me. And even being aware of my own past biases, it hurts to be judged for daring to age — something that is completely natural and only happens to the luckiest of us. It reinforces my subconscious insecurities about growing old, lonely and alone.  

At my age, I no longer feel welcome in various LGBTQ+ places because there is an air of haughtiness from younger folk, which makes me feel on edge and contradicts the very purpose of LGBTQ+ bars and clubs, which should be free of prejudice. Thankfully, there are still many places that are warm and welcoming.  

If anything, ageism is now more explicit than ever before because so much of it is propagated on social media without a thought for the person who falls victim to it. 

There’s often a blasé deployment of objectionable language and tone on social media, which almost certainly wouldn’t be employed if the exchange was happening face-to-face. 

When it was reported that 18-year-old Jake Daniels — the UK’s first active gay male professional footballer — was in a loving relationship with a 46-year-old man, Twitter was ablaze with self-righteous condemnation from LGBTQ+ people. 

Even worse, language like ‘groomer’ and ‘nonce’ — tropes that are routinely used by anti-gay people to publicly belittle us — was being trotted out by my fellow gay men. 

What’s needed to bridge the gap between younger and older LGBTQ+ people is more integration.  

Small changes can make a huge difference, such as clubs and promoters incorporating more older LGBTQ+ people in their promotional material, which would surely make nights that are currently heavily promoted with body-beautiful models feel a little less intimidating.  

LGBTQ+ bars and clubs should adopt policies in order to tackle ageism as they do with other prejudices, and hire a wider age range of staff.  

LGBTQ+ media has improved ever so slightly in recent years, but there is still work to do in representing older people — the Miriam Margolyes cover on British Vogue’s Pride edition is the perfect example of how it should be done.

Because of the deep devastation that AIDS caused to the LGBTQ+ community, which still reverberates to this day, ageing became a foreign idea to many. 

Having assumed for many years that I was going to have my own life cut short because of AIDS, I’m now presented with the fact that I will, most likely, go on to live a long life.

And that is something to be proud of. As a community, we must accept the ageing process.

Instead of dismissing those gay elders who came before us, we ought to pull up a barstool and laugh with and learn from them.

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing [email protected]. 

Share your views in the comments below.

Source: Read Full Article