The first question generally asked is "When did you know you were gay?” I don’t know if this is just a badly phrased question or how they actually think it happens. Like I woke up one morning and went “Hmm pussy”.

Well, anyway, I’m one of those who has kind of always known. Bare in mind, I did not go to school in a time when sex education occurred prior to being 14/15. When we didn’t tell our kids about ALL of the ins and outs. I just twigged that I looked at things a little differently. I’m the tomboy that was in your class, always with the short hair, playing sports, class clown, roughing and tumbling with the boys and often mistaken as one.

Primary school was very uneventful, especially from the perspective of this Blog. Sex didn’t exist for me. I was still up a tree. Of course, I “married” one or two boys as is primary school tradition but then most likely I kicked him in the shins and ran away.

Secondary school began in the same way, everyone was a friend. I had no idea how quickly things would change. By the time year 8 rolled around, (’94) puberty has started to wreak its havoc on our skin, hormones and friendships. Girls kissed boys; boys kissed girls, people graffitied surfaces with declarations of undying love. I knew I had to know what all the fuss was about. So I got in on the act.

Enter Chris. (Now clearly I’m going to be keeping this vague in details and names are just names plucked from whichever programmes I happen to be watching as I right.) Chris was technically my first boyfriend. It wasn’t too last. From day one, I have been a floozy. After a week of serious hand holding and pecks on the cheek, I dumped Chris and promptly took up with his best friend, Matt.

Cue more serious hand holding. And then some double dating! So, of course, now we’re “going out” with each other, the pressure is on. I’m going to have to kiss Matt. I’m going to find out the fuss.

So I raced home from school, got changed and was so nervous, I trudged up the hill to meet my best mate, Rach. Rach was way ahead of me in the boy stakes, apple pie all the way for her. We strolled over to the school (never understood that, moan about being there all day and then as soon as it’s closed and chained up, we’re climbing back in) to meet the boys. Just as we spot the boys, Rach slips some white Wrigley’s in my pocket and gives me a hug. Off we went, up to the playing fields, which were massive and are probably now houses! (Thanks Labour!) As I said, massive playing fields, making it perfect for the boys to show us girls how to play golf…and of course, our ineptitude providing the excuse for close physical contact.

We worked our way down the field in our foursome and soon we’d lost Rach and boyfriend to the gully of trees…the golf pretence dropped, Matt and I walked hand in hand and if I was a bag of nerves, he was a truckload of nerves. Like the blind leading the blind. Eventually we ran out of words and ran out of places to walk; we were in the gardens, by the pond. The sun was waning, dipping away. Everything looked so perfect. Scene set and there I was stood face to face, toe to toe with a boy.

I couldn’t feel anything other than nerves. It didn’t feel wrong, it just didn’t feel right. It wasn’t making sense. I was waiting for the good stuff to arrive and as I leaned into to kiss him, there was a fear in my heart that it wouldn’t be there, that I’d be a freak for my entire life. We kissed; I recall the taste of prawn cocktail crisps, massive overuse of tongue and wiping my mouth (discreetly) afterwards. He, however, promptly turned away, punched the air and stepped in the pond. As we walked home, him with his one footed squelch, I waited and waited and waited for the warm and fuzzy to happen. Wondering when I’d get those feelings of excitement that everyone else seemed to have.

Matt and I ended up going out for quite a while, there were valentines presents and double dates galore and far too much getting off with each other. Matt was such a great guy and no doubt about it, I really liked him. But when his lips touched mine, he stopped being Matt; he was just a mass of flesh pressed against me.

Of course, there were other boys in time. A moment with Mark at the gates, Jake in the art supply cupboard, Steven at the park and Ben in town. But nothing. Never anything at all. It was so hollow and empty. I gave up. Stopped pushing for it to click. The simplest course of action came to me; I picked the most unattainable boy in my world and told everyone I was hopelessly in love with him.

This takes us to year 10 of school (‘96) and I’m 15. Other than some decidedly average kisses, how did I know I was gay? Honestly, I didn’t. I knew I was different, I didn’t know gay was the word for it or that it was the reason why girls held far more attention and appeal for me.

Over the next two years things would be become slightly clearer but without a boy in sight….there are a couple of other encounters with the boykind to come….but join me next time to find out how I finally knew that it was the ladies I was meant to love.