As a practicing heterosexual, I was typically socialised to be homophobic when I was young and immature. I didn’t realise the underlying stress my gay friend lived behind. To my defence, he hid it very well. He actively participated in the locker room banter regarding the fairer sex. But that doesn’t mean it was right or less hurtful.

In the training bubble we lived in, while we all trained to become some of the best swimmers in the world, he excelled beyond us all. In fact he blossomed into a world record holding and Olympic gold medal carrying swimmer. I was envious, not having those accolades myself, but at the same time very proud of his accomplishments and all the swimmers in our group returning from international events with numerous medals.

His success validated all of the training our group had endured. Although he stood on the podium alone, that Olympic gold medal was a joint venture of daily training, difficult sets, training camps and years spent working collectively. I jubilantly cheered when he out-touched the favourite in his Olympic final in Barcelona like a brother. I might have even squealed in delight like he used to do in his campish way.

I recently read his book about being a gay jock and it was upsetting to me to read how hard his life was as a person hiding behind a homophobic wall. He described a particularly harrowing event at his high school after which he considered suicide. After that experience he was determined to hide his sexuality.

Living a life like an actor who never breaks from their pretend character would be exhausting.

Bullying in any form is common. Until empathy happens more globally; sexism, sizeism, racism, religious bullying and homophobia will continue. For me, I accepted the homophobia and a wall that everyone inside (and outside) our swimming bubble created. It was normalised. Our friend quietly endured his secret. He was unable to break through until we had all moved on in our adult lives. His life was completely dualistic.

When he ‘came out’, as it is called in normal parlance, it was not a surprise to anyone. It was a validation of most people’s thoughts. What it did for him though was take away the fodder. There’s no point, in pointing out the obvious, that has been pointed out. He was freed from the weight of daily pretending.

Even the most homely looking dudes in our group had had a few girlfriends, including me, so when a guy who later became a model, but never had a girlfriend… it was no surprise when he publicly proclaimed his sexual proclivity for men. What did surprise me was the pain he endured to try to cover up his sexuality. A pain that I had participated in. Was I a bully?

We all live in the world together and empathy certainly seems to be sparsely distributed. In my life, as with most folk, in my old age, I have had friends who are gay or have close social connections that are gay. I remember an epiphany I had when, in a muddled state of inebriation, I asked a friend’s sister what it was that made her gay. A bumbling, but honest question, from a card-carrying hetero, who was becoming a bit more open minded. She simply said ‘I fell in love with her’.

I think something like an event in ‘The Grinch Who Stole Christmas’ happened to me at that moment;

And what happened, then? Well, in Whoville they say – that the Grinch’s small heart grew three sizes that day. 

For the first time in my life the strangeness of the physicality of a gay lifestyle was superseded by the humanity of her answer: she loved this person.

Sometimes it takes a lifetime to learn that the socialisation we endured in our youth to create our value system… was wrong. So Mark, I apologise for calling you Tinkerbell, but you were very annoying at 5am in the morning. It might have been impossible to ‘come out’ in the sphere we were in but it is confusing when someone like you talks about pussy 24/7 when you were my roommate from time to time. Now I know why.

If we could do it all over again I’m sure your life would have been easier. But then again we’d have to change the entire social fabric of life, probably back to the days of ancient Greece, before the tables would be turned. However it is your bravery that has helped to move this slow moving empathy boat forwards.

There are quite a few things about the accepted socialisations of the 1960s, 70s and 80s that I now have shed. So, although your life must have been terribly confusing, or even shit at times, it was confusing for all of us.

Nowadays I don’t mind what sort of proclivity anyone has, as long as they are real. As a teammate you were a good one, you stepped up to score points for the team to race when you were needed, you cheered your team on and you were humble. You could easily have been arrogant as a world record holder. You were not.

Gay or not-gay, I knew you, as you. As a Backstroker. A sprinter. A team mate. And a friend. Maybe not one of my beer swilling, girl chasing friends, but a friend… and you did participate in some good beer swilling events and you certainly always brought some beauties along to the party, since you were so personable, while the rest of us were too shy to speak to the girls. So thanks for that too.

I hope, now that you’ve shed the façade, that life is better for you. I might wish you had been more open but I can’t really imagine what your life was like, so I’m sure you made the best choices.

I personally hope I wasn’t too mean, but you did kick my ass in every backstroke race we did, that’s hard to take since you are younger, however it made me diversify into freestyle and butterfly, which I was better at anyways, so I thank you again!

You’ve gone on to much more amazing things, as expected, and I hope it continues. You don’t need a label, you are just you; just Tewks.