2010s – why I’ll miss them

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With only 16 days lef tin this decade, I’ve started to feel more turbulent emotions of how I feel that a huge new chapter is opening in my constantly growing and exhausting life. I don’t mean to say that I have it terribly hard but the last year in particular was much heavier than those that preceded it.

I’m in a boarding school and I’ve tried talking to my roommate about what it feels like to leave this decade, and that’s where we seem to have horrifically differing opinions on what it should mean to us. For him, he doesn’t seem to care very much and that kind of makes me upset. I’m 16 and he’s 17, and I can’t see why he doesn’t see the significance of this decade to us and our generation. It was the 2010s that we began to become who we are today. Before 6 years old I seriously didn’t know anything, other than to walk, talk and sleep. Admittedly I was probably behind most children as it took me until I was seven to learn the months of the year (I was preocupied watching Ben 10 and such other things obviously). This was the decade I began my “serious” education, I began to form my own concious, no longer completely following all my parents and superior’s orders or rules. I questioned authority and really thought about things. This was both good and bad but in the end made me who I am. My last year without a doubt was definetly the one in which I truly became who I am. Up until I was fifteen I had probably grown as a person by 50% and the other 50% was from this last year. I had my GCSEs, I made most of my friends, I embraced my true identity and accepted my suppressed sexuality after so many years and then came out. This academic year I’ve started the works of making LGBTQ+ members of my school more empowered and less afraid, though there still is a lot to do. All I can say is that at the beginning of September last year, I could not have possibly imagined how much my life would have evolved and it makes me both nostalgic and on the verge of tears as I think back to the days of me trying to be someone who was not really me.

Enough on me, I imagine that a lot will have changed for older people on this planet. Some would have gotten married and had kids in this single decade. People have been crossing the globe in a constant fret, so many people that are to dictate the future were born, whilst so many also have moved on to whatever comes after this life. I don’t really know how I feel about a new decade where I am actually concious and thinking, “wow, a new decade”, but I believe it’s something between sadness, regret and a spark of happiness and hope for an even brighter future.

I really hope everyone has enjoyed the last decade as I did for the most part and it’s times like this that make you really think about life I believe. I’m sure you may have regrets about the last decade but also can look back at the good times too.

I think I should probably stop this ramble, whislt I still am somewhat emotionally intact, but thank everyone for the average, crap, mediocre, amazing, fantastic, trash, fab and something of a decade, and wish you the best for 2020.

Love,

John.

one of my biggest regrets

Having no idea what I wanted to talk about in today’s blog post, I did the most obvious thing to do in such a situation; I went to the internet for help. I hardly even had to look for an idea, as one of the first search results was: tell a secret about yourself. So keep in mind that between searching for ideas and beginning writing this post there was probably a pause of about half a minute, in which I had to decide which secret I was going to share today with a bunch of people I don’t know. That’s probably what makes this easier, since the secret I’m deciding to tell, I’ve only told 3 people ever and I’ve had it for almost 10 years now. Before I get started, I would like to say that this is definitely not as intense and serious as some secrets can go, but it made quite the impact on my life.

In early 2010, a couple months before my seventh birthday, my family finally moved from Russia after a 6 year posting there due to my parent’s job. I’ve moved around quite a lot since and a bit before, but what made this slightly unusual was that it wasn’t during the summer so it was in the middle of my last school term. Normally the company that my parent works for schedules the moves/transfers inbetween academic years or terms, but this time it wasn’t the case. Having moved to the island of Borneo, I finished my academic year about 2 months later. Here’s where my memory becomes a little foggy, it was either during the summer after the move or we may have been moving during a school holiday, but either way, we were in my parent’s home country and I did one of the stuppidest things in my life ever (other than probably slicing my leg open, but that’s a story for another day). My father used to wear glasses and now my mother does and at the age of just under seven years old, I decided I wanted glasses, even though I didn’t need them. Yep, that’s the secret. Now before you leave this article, please just hear me out. So, some people naturally have bad eye sight and therefore need glasses to correct the way that it recieves light (through refraction) in order to sharpen your vision since your eyes basically aren’t correctly calibrated to receive light. If your eyes are fine then that’s perfect, but if you suddenly start wearing glasses with a real perscription, your eyes will start to change in order to see clearly again whilst you have your glasses on. This then means that without your glasses you can no longer see clearly anymore. That’s what happened to me; I lied about needing glasses and now I can’t see without them. Whether or not I would have needed glasses in the future, I don’t know and that’s what haunts me, essentially, it is possible that I purposely wrecked my eye sight, yay.

Well, that’s my secret, and I hope you enjoyed it, if not I am terribly sorry. See you next time, and remember you can ask or even suggest possible posts for the future as I will accept them with wide arms.

Love, John.

kissing boys

– QUICK DISCLAIMER: John has never kissed anyone, boy or girl (before he knew). This post should not be taken as an accurate description of what a kiss is but merely a simple yet effective method that John uses to vent his pent-up emotions and fantasies (don’t be dirty…) –

Before I start this post, I’d like to say that I have already written this post before, but it disappeared without a trace 😦 I believe that I lost quite a bit of good material, however I will take it as a sign from the universe not to go off on a tangent about legal sex ages and average loss of virginity ages in the UK.

Now, as another normal boy, I spend my fair share of time imagining situations both sexual and mild. The trade-off between me and others is most likely the difference in the gender of the person I imagine doing these things with. I am no closer to getting a boyfriend than even before I realised I was gay, and currently, I don’t know how I feel about that; I guess I just feel unlucky that there doesn’t seem to be a larger range of people in my school who’d be interested in dating me and vice versa. This doesn’t stop me from imagining my first kiss with Mr Right. I watch a lot of movies, but I’m not a sucker, very few actually give an accurate depiction of what a first kiss is like: weird, uncomfortable and probably awkward. I typically like to imagine kisses in a relationship which, I would hope, would be less messy and more romantic and nice. For example, a kiss in the morning when you first see each other, small, simple but probably amazing or a kiss before some other activities in the bedroom, like jumping on the bed and playing Jenga on a mattress 😉 these kisses would be energetic, full and powerful. Honestly, most of the time I don’t really care how good a kiss is, but rather just hope that I get a boyfriend soon because sometimes I am lonely, and sadly that is because I’m gay. I’m not saying that it is super easy for straight people to find a partner but it’s definitely easier than for non-heterosexuals, especially in boarding schools where we can’t really use devices like dating apps, which as I gather would be the easiest way to find a partner, though isn’t particularly the way I’d like to meet the love of my life.

Anyway, this was a pretty random post but I hope you enjoyed it. Please make sure to share this with others if you feel like it.

Love, John.

gcses and a-levels

So last year I did my GCSEs; I did eleven exams in the subjects: Biology, Art, Physics, Chemistry, Design Technology, Geography, Enlgih Lit and Language, Spanish, Maths and Computing. I was pleasantly surprised late this summer when I received my results to find I had grossly underestimated my knowledge on most of the topics. Here in the UK we use a number system for grading now (I know, it’s really stupid) that goes from 1-9, an 8 being equivilant to what was previosuly an A*, which would mean that a 9 was an A**, or something, right? I think what really happens is that they examiners take the higher percentile of 8 grades and basically change them to 9s, in order to distinguish them. So to get back to me, I was predicted some pretty low grades, and I was truly embarrassed, especially since I associate myself more with “the smart people” rather than the “cool people”, of which most were getting straight 8 predictions. I was even more afraid having taken the real exams and realised that I probably should have started revision a bit earlier, but luckily my best friend short-term memory had been sticking out for me and I managed to achieve a pretty good set of results. In the end I got four 9s, five 8s, one 7 and a 6 (in spanish, have I ever mentioned that I hate languages?).

So those results were followed by incredible relief that I would not have to beg my parents to disown me for wasting their money on school fees. Also, please don’t get the wrong message, I am very grateful for the money my parents invest in my education, but I have a pretty rocky relationship with my attention who enjoys draggin me to see the nest funny video or episode in a dodgy Netflix series (cough, cough, Riverdale, cough!). Jokes aside, Riverdale is amazing! Okay really though, I don’t mean to be a dark-dwelling lowlife who spends most of his life behind a computer screen and obviously I’v been given a second chance in taking my education seriously, so here we are. A-levels are a lot harder than I thought they’d be, I mean we only do four subects now, but it feel even harder than last year. I probably doesn’t help that we’re being told that what we’ve learnt in the past is either completely untrue or a gross oversimplification. Ohhh, I hate Chemistry…

Sorry if this wasn’t what you were looking for, but I hope it was mildly entertaining to read.

. John

don’t be afraid – my story… so far

Chances are that this is the first time that you are reading one of my blog posts. Even though this may be the case, I will not be shamelessly plugging my previous posts, I don’t care if you read them, do what you want to do.

For a long time I questioned my sexuality, mainly based on the fact that I didn’t seem to be as infatuated with girls as all of the other boys. Of course I lied and joined conversations about the girls in my school that “I found fit”, who I liked, you know, the normal stuff. Just under a year ago, I was still just like that. Thinking about that even now seems so bizarre and almost unbelievable. I can’t believe how much my life could have possibly changed in a single year. And just for the record: this is from a kid who moved across the globe for most of his childhood, so yes, I know change. When I found out, no. When I accepted who I was, I was filled with a mangled concoction of feelings, I was happy, still confused, dazed, mildy upset but most of all excited. I had just opened one of the greatest chapters of my life and now I could explore it. I buried myself in research on the LGBTQ+ community, hungry to discover what I was a part of. Even with all of this newfound knowledge and excitement though, I was afraid to tell those closest to me about my true self. I couldn’t tell my loving supportive family for 5 months. I came out through Instagram to everyone, perhaps mistakedly as it led to my aunt accidently outing me to my parents before I had the chance to tell them myself.

Now that I was out, I was hit with another rush of excitement, my life would be so different and for the better. I didn’t have to supress myself for the fear of people calling me gay, because who cares, it’s true. It wasn’t exactly smooth sailing from there and strangely enough I found trouble right where I least expected it: home. In all of the holidays that have passed since coming out, I don’t think I haven’t had a serious argument with my parents. I don’t blame them, in fact I don’t think it has anything to do with them having any problem with having a gay son, and more my frustration that they couldn’t see what I was going through. Coming out wasn’t what I expected. Deep down in my mind I had stupidly thought that coming out would inspire others in the closet to do the same. It wasn’t the case, and by the time the summer vacations arrived I felt more alone than ever before. There was no one I could talk to about what I was going through and about how I felt. Obviously, I had my friends but they don’t understand. As heterosexuals they grew up with role models and people just like them that they could ask anything and be given an answer. As of today, I still have no true friends, or for that matter know anyone in the LGBTQ+ community other than two kids at my school. There are no adults that I can just simply ask questions about what I feel. This feeling of complete isolation and the fact that I’m finally growing and have a enormous amount of hormones flowing violently through my body has led to serious mood swings that I think of as my highs and lows. In my highs I would be energetic, figgity, dancing, chatting and overall just having a great time. In my lows, I’ve reached the depths of sorrow that I previously ignored and didn’t even believe the existence of. I hated myself and took all my anger out on whoever was closest and easiest.

I don’t blame this on myself being gay, more on the society that once was and still has its deep roots in today’s life, keeping hate and fear for non-heterosexuals alive.

If you are still reading this, I am grateful because now I do get to tell you that it does get better, even if only by a little bit in the beginning. Having come back to my school for a fifth year (the longest I’ve ever been in one school) and my second last before I leave for university, I wanted to do something that meant something. If you are a US reader, then this may not seem so impressive, but here in the UK, it is not terribly common to have school LGBTQ+ clubs. That’s why I’ve decided to create my school’s first LGBTQ+ club with the two other “out” people in my year, and honestly planning it and just the thought has sent me spiralling out of this sad, cold depression and it feels like one of my highs without and end!

Please, if you are a young LGBTQ+ member we don’t have to be afraid. I am really sorry for those whom it is dangerous to be out for, but those of us in more accepting environments shouldn’t be afraid. Coming out isn’t a big deal and certainly isn’t something to fear.

Clearly, I am only 16 years old, so I don’t suggest taking my complete word for it, but I really hope that this can help people , and empower those like myself. You aren’t alone, you may just have to look a little harder for your friends than those around you.

Lots of Love, John.

perceptions on being gay

Before I start on what I am about to say, a quick disclaimer: I’ve only really accepted that I was gay about 7 months ago and have been out for 3 months, so I won’t pretend that I am a full grown gay veteran who’s been through all of it. I haven’t. Surprisingly the largest amount of homophobia I have encountered, so far, was during school from a classmate who told me I was gross the day after I came out. I’m not even sure if that was because of my updated sexual orientation status or because I was cramming cheese puffs by the handful in to my mouth…

With this considered, I think that I am extremely lucky to be in an environment where it is not only safe to be gay, but accepted (by almost everyone).

I haven’t been writing recently in my blog because I’ve just had my GCSEs (basically very important British exams students take when they’re 15/16). Luckily, my last exam is tomorrow, after which I get to leave school two weeks earlier than the rest for summer break. Anyway, back to the topic of this post: perceptions on being gay.

Ever since I accepted that I was gay, it became increasingly obvious to myself how my perception on being gay had basically done a u-turn from “it’s probably just a phase” to “I am genuinely happy that I’m gay, and it doesn’t matter that I am.” Before the night of my final acceptance I was actively checking out guys, and this is going to sound weird but I did it because I thought that somehow acting on my homosexual impulses would release all the urges so that I could finally be normal.

When I was twelve, around the time that I started “becoming a man” I had begun to notice that, although I knew the way the other boys were talking about girls was exaggerated, I wasn’t like them. It was like they knew something that I didn’t and it hurt to feel so excluded. Now I tried to find this “missing piece” that held me back from being like the other boys; I chose a girl in my school and said I liked her. I was pretty stupid. She ended up becoming my best friend for a while and I felt empty when she wasn’t around. I thought I had finally become a normal boy, because I was obsessed with a girl.

I’m not really sure if that’s relevant to the point I’m trying to get across, but basically what I’m trying to say is that now, I would never try to do that and I think that has something to do with being open about myself to myself, if that makes sense. To put it simply: before I accepted myself, I pushed myself to like girls and now that I have accepted myself I would be repulsed by the idea of it. Basically my perception on being gay had changed upon accepting being gay and for some reason that really intrigues me.

Quick side note – when I say “accept myself” though I do accept myself being gay, I more mean that it was the moment that I no longer dismissed it as a phase or told myself that I didn’t like boys. It was like a sudden jerk into reality that I was in fact a homosexual.

Let’s get back on track. I know that a part of it could be that I have to change my perception on being gay before I can truly accept myself, yet I’ve heard of so many people who obviously have had their “jerk in to reality” on being gay and still not being okay with it or accepting of others. Why is there a sudden change in perception? Is it because we’re now in the long haul and may as well stop resisting the currents of change? (I know, great metaphor) Why can one day someone be mortified by the possibility of being gay and the next be entranced by it. This was the case for me atleast.

Why do we fear being possibly gay when we aren’t sure and love it when we are sure? I’m not complaining, but I don’t understand the mental shift that we can go through so quickly upon an event that changes our lives such as the “jerk to reality” in discovering our homosexual orientation.

When I try head around it

I hope this wasn’t a complete waste of time for you like it might have been for me with an exam tomorrow after all. Maybe I’m just a dumb simpleton but for me this begs the question of why is there even a shift in perception, because really there shouldn’t be. It 2019 for heaven’s sake! It shouldn’t matter whether your gay, trans, lesbian, straight, pan or anything else, so why are so many people (myself included) afraid to come out to a modern and accepting community (in those countries where this actually applies). Thinking about this right now, when I am tired and totally not ready for an exam tomorrow morning makes me really angry and deeply upset. Is it because even in today’s modern accepting community, hints of internalised homophobia lurk around the corners of our streets tucked out of our view yet still present and haunting. I’m not going to say anymore because I’ve reached the point where I probably need to do more research and analysing of stuff in order to not make an even larger moron of myself than I already have.

Thank you for reading, I wish it was somewhat entertaining on your behalf.

That Boy.

procrastination

As I’ve mentioned before on a previous post, I am terrible at doing revision. A good example to help elaborate how bad my problem is that in less than a month I have my first GCSE exam and I am currently sitting in my father’s office with all my books in front of me, writing about how to not do revision. Now that you know that reading this is probably not in your best interest, continue reading.

  1. Start a blog

If you’re still reading, then my first idea on how to procrastinate is to start a blog and just write about whatever comes to mind. I’ve written almost all of my blog posts during “study” sessions as I simply find it more interesting to write about myself or things that I am thinking than reading textbooks, taking notes and doing tests. I understand that this isn’t a perfect solution for everyone since it still does involve you requiring some mental capacity, but it works for me.

2. Watch Something

This has got to be the most obvious option available to you if you’re revising in a closed environment like your room. You can watch anything whether it be on YouTube, dailymotion or Netflix. My personal favourite is starting a tv series in the middle of a revision session because once I’ve started I won’t stop till it’s finished. YouTube is good if you’re looking for something short or funny; my personal favourite is watching FailArmy or vines. If this is your option though, you must become adept at using keyboard shortcuts for switching/closing tabs and making sure you don’t look like a frantic monkey in the process.

3. Read About Something Actually Interesting

Like the blogging idea, this isn’t something that will tickle everyone’s fancy. I do actually enjoy reading (I know I’m a weirdo), just not plain facts from a textbook that I have to remember. For me, I might read an action/fantasy or romance novel. Strangely enough, reading “She jumped from a cliff, catapulting herself forwards towards the hovering blimp. Knives in each hand, she stretches her arms out and the blades lock themselves into the hard balloon,” keeps me more interested and involved than “In an experiment, comparing temperature against pressure for a fixed volume, we can see a proportional relationship.”

4. Doodle

This is probably the most common way I enjoy to procrastinate during lessons. In lessons you may find some difficulty in being able to watch a video or write an electronic blog when you’re only being provided a pen and paper. I found that the best technique in being able to accomplish procrastination is through using these tools to release your inner emotions and thoughts. This doesn’t particularly have to be through doodling since you can also scribble or even do origami if that helps you. Should you do this during lessons and you have an attentive teacher who likes to stalk the classroom, make sure that you have an extra piece of paper to hide your art when they come around, not that they should be suspicious since it does look like you’re writing.

I’m not going to say that I hope this was useful to read, because really, it’s the opposite. If this was enjoying to read though, make sure to read my other posts and give the post a like. You can follow me on Instagram @anothernormalboy.