‘There’s no more shame, just a sense of belonging’
Being welcomed by her partner’s family has helped Rosie Wilby find the joy in Christmas again.
‘Suz and her family accepted me right from the start’
Christmas 2010 was an unusually snowy and lonely one. I was five years into a relationship with a woman whose family didn’t know she was gay. What should be a special time of year had become a heartbreaking one. We could never spend it together, so it really brought home how invisible our relationship was – and how she must have been ashamed of it, and me.
I yearned to unwrap presents, kiss under the mistletoe and cuddle up in front of the telly with my partner; that’s what couples did at Christmas, wasn’t it?
‘Can I phone you?’ I asked hopefully as we said our farewells at Paddington station, standing awkwardly by the bronze sculpture of the bear. It was a bit of a cutesy tradition for us to touch
the statue before being separated. Yet Paddington, sitting on his little suitcase, had become a symbol of my feelings of being lost, adrift and far from home.
‘I’ll text you and let you know,’ she said, sounding uncertain.
On the train to my Lancashire family home, where my dad had lived on his own since my mum passed away, I gazed out of the window and tried to comfort myself with the memories I’d made just a few days earlier, of romantic snowball fights. Perhaps, this time, my girlfriend would be brave enough to come out.
When I arrived at my dad’s house, huge icicles hung from the porch; somehow, I knew deep down that my life was still frozen. I didn’t hear from my partner that Christmas. Then at New Year, she broke up with me by email.
Fast forward 11 years and Christmas could not be more different. Now
50, I’m engaged to someone whose family love and accept us.
It took until November 2016 for me to meet
Suz via a dating app. Our first date was at an outdoor Christmas market. We drank mulled wine and kissed in the chilly winter blackness of London’s Hyde Park. A few weeks in, we drank Champagne together on Christmas Eve before she drove off the next day to see her mum, Glenda, to tell her how happy and in love she was.
Suz and her family accepted me right from the start. So now, Glenda along with Suz’s two brothers spend Christmas at our home in Bromley, south London.
Last year, we stayed up late, playing novelty glow-in-the-dark miniature table tennis across our table. I remember Glenda taking Dolly the dog’s front paws in her hands in a joyful little dance to
Rockin’ Around The Christmas Tree.
As we unwrapped our presents by the fairy-lit tree, my heart skipped at how warmly my relationship with Suz is embraced by Glenda. She happily sipped her tea from our Pride mug and paused to ask Siri questions about LGBTQ history. The world feels like much more of an accepting place than it once did.
Suz and I are now planning our wedding for June 2022. This Christmas will be full of excitement as we look forward to a lifetime of being together openly, without shame. This time of year now imbues me with a sense of belonging and home – such a contrast to that sad Christmas of 11 years ago.
The Breakup Monologues (Bloomsbury) by Rosie Wilby is out now