—
Since all I had known throughout my life was alcohol and pub crawling, I didn’t know anyone else outside that circle. Most of my friends (apart from a select few) were beer-addled partygoers that couldn’t see past the end of their alcohol bottle. Nights were long and substance fueled, and mornings were even longer as the alcohol slowly and horribly left our bodies. I always remember the morning after; those times were fueled by anxiety and fear, mixed with shame and regret.
It was hard opening up and meeting new people. How was I going to do that when I had already worked up a reputation as a lager lout? And I expect anyone that lived their lives remotely different probably wouldn’t have given me the time of day. Branching out was hard because it meant stepping out of my comfort zone and getting myself into situations that I didn’t feel secure in. I felt judged and criticized, but I know now as I look back, that again, this was my own insecurity talking.
It didn’t take long until I realized that at my new voluntary position I was already making new friends. Richard, who had taken me on as a sort of surrogate son was quite happy to socialize with me outside of work; we spent many times sitting on my sofa, drinking coffee, reminiscing at old times, laughing at some of the stupid situations we’d found ourselves in.
His calmness and security was infectious to me. I must admit that I liked being in the presence of calm and collected people, it was subconsciously therapeutic. He was the first new friend I had made in my new venture. I hadn’t realized it yet but this was me slowly branching out. It just isn’t an instant thing; friendships take a while to foster.
◊♦◊
There was also Mark. He was a young man whose time was cut short at our voluntary place as he was trundled off to Tesco’s to start work in his very first proper job. The powers that be secured him a trial working as a shelf stacker that later secured him a full-time position. He was never work shy was Mark, someone only needed give him that opportunity to prove himself. Thankfully, this time it was Tesco’s.
Our friendship long outlasted his time at New Thresholds. He would visit me at least once every week and we would play games on the PlayStation. I had a PlayStation 2 and Mark was a hardcore gamer. I was a gamer too but I hadn’t truly owned that title yet.
I remember being very jealous of Mark and Richard. That our voluntary positions and the powers that be had given them the chance to move on and work other places, and quite quickly too. Mark had lasted about three weeks before they sent him off to Tesco’s and that’s where he ended. He’s still there today as I write this. Richard was sent away after thirteen weeks to a place like what we were but to work as a member of staff.
I remember the envy creeping through my body, slowly infecting the human parts of me as I tried to justify why my friends had been given opportunity and not me. Here was me, still jobless, still volunteering, still trying to make ends meet. What I hadn’t realized at the time is that they had massive plans for me. I was one of these rare people that came along that was so eager to change that I would do practically anything to achieve it.
Their plans were tremendous in scale. I had yet to discover what laid in wait for me.
◊♦◊
Later that year Mark outed himself to me as transgender. He really wanted to be a woman. It took a while getting my head around the complexity of the situation but it’s safe to say that I let him dress up as a woman at my house as a safety net. He thought his parents would never understand, and whilst he came to terms with that I let him be who he liked at my house. No one to judge him, just let him be whoever he wanted at any time. I thought this was an important step for Mark.
Mark was my first ever brush with true diversity. A person that was so distinctly different from myself that I couldn’t understand the thoughts that drove him to want to be a woman inside. Knowing him brought the beginning of a comfortable acceptance to the difference of life for me, that people can be different in many ways, even friends.
I’ve met many other people since then. As life progressed, my old ways, habits, and friends seemed to ebb away into the background. Those that were accepting of the new me for who I am stayed as my friends. Those that weren’t comfortable with the new person I was gradually becoming slipped away into the nether, never to be heard from again. I don’t blame them, of course.
When someone changes from the core it challenges a way of life at the very base level, and that can be threatening to some who just want to keep going as they are. They don’t want to challenge themselves or see the path that can be laid out in front of them. Having me in their life is a constant reminder that there are other ways to do things, and sometimes that can be uncomfortable.
◊♦◊
I will say that all the people I have met since I made a change haven’t had a bad word to say about me. In their presence, they were always supportive and had good things to say about our friendship. It was a striking new era for me. A new horizon. One that I hadn’t realised I was in until much later.
Previously, my friendships were consistently putting me down and making me feel bad for myself. I was always a follower of the crowd. A follower that had questions about everything, but because those questions challenged the knowledge of the leaders, I was often slapped down and made to feel stupid at daring to ask anything. I eventually stopped asking altogether.
My new friendships welcomed questions by the abundance. It was a shining new era in my growth. Richard was an absolute wealth of information when it came to life experience and giving up alcohol, and Mark was a power-house when it came to knowledge on gaming.
These experiences opened me up to sharing my wealth too. My knowledge. That asking me for what I understood wasn’t a sly attempt to catch me out in something I didn’t know, or even an attempt to best me, it was because they were genuinely interested. It’s where I found my passion for teaching others. Through the sharing of information
Get the best stories from The Good Men Project delivered straight to your inbox, here.
—
Photo Credit: Getty Images