a good luck post for Susan Calman
Dear Susan
You won't remember me, but in March 2011 you said a very brief hello as you rushed past
adding. "Sorry, I'm desperate for a cigarette." It was the last night of London Southbank Centre's inaugural Women of the World Festival and moments earlier you were sharing a stage with Sandi Toksvig, Sue Perkins and Marin Alsop. It was brilliant. I remember saying to a (now ex) friend when we we both silly-excited in the front row of the Queen Elizabeth Hall, "Oh my god, I've never seen so many lesbians." And it felt brilliant.
I don't get out much. It may sound like a bit of an oh woe is me excuse but wheelchairs and going out don't tend to mix well. I am not able to get about without help from my family or friends. Wheelchairs and going out in London can be even trickier and when you realise I'm a disabled lady-gay then it can feel almost impossible. I still haven't attended a Pride event. I can't find any LGBT groups locally and as autumn sneaks in, I can feel the dark nights and isolation breathing ominously down my neck. I came out (for the first time) nearly ten years ago and I am still racked with guilt over what it did to my two brilliant kids, then-husband and family. We got through it but it hurts, as necessary as it was. Yet if I had kept quiet I am not sure that I would still be here now being all self indulgent and quite dull. Sorry. Nevertheless, it was the right thing to do and even though I don't have a missus like you nor as many cats I am still proud to be gay, and for all my faults, me.
It makes me sad and quite frustrated to read today that you will be having a Twitter hiatus whilst you are taking part in Strictly Come Dancing. I follow you and your cats and I was looking forward to sharing your excitement, lots of glitter ball gossip and sneaky photos. But never mind. I can understand why, but it is such a shame that the abuse you have been admirably tolerating has played such a part in your decision. As you say, no gay male contestants get picked on. The double standards and misogyny is infuriating. You are no less a lady-gay for having a male dance partner (and a bloody brilliant one I hasten to add 😉), or wearing dresses to dance in. And similarly, to the stranger I overhead a few years ago, who said a little too loudly accidentally on purpose perhaps - "I didn't know that you could be disabled and gay! Well you can and I am bloody good at it too! (But that's enough about me.)
I am certain that I speak for many when I say that you are brilliant, Susan. Being gay is not necessarily a part of that but perhaps I am a little biased... You are always great on telly and the wireless and your accounts regarding mental health are candid and important. Thank you. When you hit that dance floor, do not worry about any one else. Go out for you, but know that there will be loads of folk cheering you on and supporting you all the way. You are fabulous. Be brilliant. Be you. Twitter will miss you but looks forward to seeing you again at Christmas.
Love
D x
You won't remember me, but in March 2011 you said a very brief hello as you rushed past
adding. "Sorry, I'm desperate for a cigarette." It was the last night of London Southbank Centre's inaugural Women of the World Festival and moments earlier you were sharing a stage with Sandi Toksvig, Sue Perkins and Marin Alsop. It was brilliant. I remember saying to a (now ex) friend when we we both silly-excited in the front row of the Queen Elizabeth Hall, "Oh my god, I've never seen so many lesbians." And it felt brilliant.
I don't get out much. It may sound like a bit of an oh woe is me excuse but wheelchairs and going out don't tend to mix well. I am not able to get about without help from my family or friends. Wheelchairs and going out in London can be even trickier and when you realise I'm a disabled lady-gay then it can feel almost impossible. I still haven't attended a Pride event. I can't find any LGBT groups locally and as autumn sneaks in, I can feel the dark nights and isolation breathing ominously down my neck. I came out (for the first time) nearly ten years ago and I am still racked with guilt over what it did to my two brilliant kids, then-husband and family. We got through it but it hurts, as necessary as it was. Yet if I had kept quiet I am not sure that I would still be here now being all self indulgent and quite dull. Sorry. Nevertheless, it was the right thing to do and even though I don't have a missus like you nor as many cats I am still proud to be gay, and for all my faults, me.
It makes me sad and quite frustrated to read today that you will be having a Twitter hiatus whilst you are taking part in Strictly Come Dancing. I follow you and your cats and I was looking forward to sharing your excitement, lots of glitter ball gossip and sneaky photos. But never mind. I can understand why, but it is such a shame that the abuse you have been admirably tolerating has played such a part in your decision. As you say, no gay male contestants get picked on. The double standards and misogyny is infuriating. You are no less a lady-gay for having a male dance partner (and a bloody brilliant one I hasten to add 😉), or wearing dresses to dance in. And similarly, to the stranger I overhead a few years ago, who said a little too loudly accidentally on purpose perhaps - "I didn't know that you could be disabled and gay! Well you can and I am bloody good at it too! (But that's enough about me.)
I am certain that I speak for many when I say that you are brilliant, Susan. Being gay is not necessarily a part of that but perhaps I am a little biased... You are always great on telly and the wireless and your accounts regarding mental health are candid and important. Thank you. When you hit that dance floor, do not worry about any one else. Go out for you, but know that there will be loads of folk cheering you on and supporting you all the way. You are fabulous. Be brilliant. Be you. Twitter will miss you but looks forward to seeing you again at Christmas.
Love
D x
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