I Was Beaten Up for Being Gay

I've always tried to write things in here, good and bad, so I can look back on experiences. I always thought it would be good to be reading this in twenty years and have all of these stories to recount and memories to remember.

There are a lot of negative stories and emotions in here, and unfortunately I'm about to add to that list. On Friday night, after walking home from a night out, I was attacked in a dark and murky side street in Bedford. Looking back on the events of a couple of nights ago, I suppose I was a tad foolhardy in my actions, in a number of ways. First of all, I walked home on my own. After 8 years of nights out, I have always walked home as I live nearby and I suppose I am quite lucky that nothing like this has happened before.

Second of all, I was a victim of my own values. I have always tried to stand up for what is right and do the right thing, but on Friday night I now know that there are times where you just need to shut up. I remember a diagram on a two-day residential course I was once on with Stonewall. We were having a discussion on authenticity and learning how to be yourself as much as possible. It was split up into four squares with segments. Two halves were split into 'safe' and 'unsafe'. The other half was 'certain' and 'uncertain'. When is it safe to speak up? And are you certain about it?

 Friday night was very uncertain. And most definitely unsafe.

I suppose the story starts a few hours earlier, when someone called me a "faggot" in a pub. It hurt to hear that word said in such a way, but despite the protestations of my friend, I simply told him to move on and ignore it. (I genuinely think that since the boxer, Floyd Mayweather used that word in a promo for his fight against Connor McGregor - a worldwide box office event - people have felt validated to use it, but that's another story...)

The night wore on. I probably had too much to drink if I was being honest; another mistake that I make far too often, and it was 3am by the time I decided I should really call it a night. It was only a five minute walk home for me, an excuse I always use to validate walking home by myself at that time of day. I was distracted by being on my phone, so planted myself on the floor to sit down (that was stupid in itself), and was texting away until I realised I was sitting on the floor in the middle of a dark street. I got up really quickly, and into the way of a guy and his group of friends, maybe about 6 or 7 of them. I apologised, and again I heard that word.

"You fucking faggot..." Off the cuff. Almost ignorantly. The second time I'd been called that in the space of a few hours, but unlike last time, I suppose this hit a nerve. A mixture of annoyance at the continued use of a homophobic slur in my direction and some twisted form of Dutch courage led me to say something that would put me in a whole world of unwanted danger.

Before I had worked out what the potential consequences were, I heard myself saying, "So what if I am? What's it got to do with you? Fuck off." Foolhardy, yes. There was six of them and one of me, in the middle of the night down a dark side street. I've seen enough films to know what happens next, and before I could do anything, I'd been punched in the side of the head. I fell to the floor and felt repeated kicks to the side of my head. And then that word again... "Fucking fag".

They ran off.

I have no idea what they looked like, or how many of them were involved.

I was left bleeding on the concrete outside an old café I used to frequent on a regular basis. It all happened so quickly, and I can still feel the brutal impact of those kicks. It was like a bomb going off inside my head, but in some perverted way, I am quite lucky to only get kicked a few times. Part of me is reluctant to call it a "homophobic attack" - it was an assault with the use of that word... That damned word... Whether that fits the criteria, I don't know. I've been encouraged to report it as a hate crime instead of an assault, but honestly... Part of me just wants to get on with life now.

It's just a real shame that this kind of thing happens at all. Regardless of whether you want to call it a hate crime or not, I cannot understand what possesses someone to kick someone in the head repeated times. Like I say... I could have been left with worse injuries than a busted jaw, a fat lip and a few bruises. You hear horror stories of life-changing injuries or worse and I'm lucky that isn't me.