I grew up in South Africa during the '80s. Reflecting on this now as I write this, as a child, I don’t think I was aware of the concept of being gay – that it was even a ‘thing’. I recall, for years, living with an increasing, overwhelming sense of guilt and shame. Why did I feel this way? What was wrong with me? Why me? I hid it from everyone, or so I thought. I remember being bullied by boys from a visiting school in my early teens for being gay (they used terms I won’t repeat here). They were onto me and my secret... 

I plucked up the courage to say ‘I’m gay’ for the first time to a close friend when I was 26 years old. Actually I couldn’t say the words, so I wrote her a note. I had lived with this giant secret for as long as I could remember - through school, university, and my early career. It’s hard to describe the sense of relief and elation you feel after telling someone who responds with acceptance and support. Trusted friends and allies, never underestimate your impact and importance! Again, reflecting on this now reminds me that I’ve been fortunate to have some incredible women in my life (past and present). 

It took me another two years to finally tell my family. I was terrified. I needn’t have been. They were loving, supportive and accepting. Of course, not everyone’s as lucky.

Today the world has changed so much. We see queer people around us on mainstream media and social media. We celebrate Pride at work. Hopefully this means fewer young people have to go through the long and difficult process so many of us went through years ago. I will never forget the weight of those feelings, the sense of not belonging, of being different. 

However, having said this, I still hesitate before referring to my partner as a ‘he’ in front of a room of strangers (in my profession, a space I find myself in often). In fact, I probably avoid mentioning it most of the time. And when I do, there’s a fleeting moment of doubt, a flinch. I’m sure I blush a little (it happens easily for me). Will this affect my credibility? Will they think less of me? I ask myself why do I feel this way? It shouldn’t bother me, but it does. I guess it’s a journey. There’s still work to be done, and I have a responsibility to do more. 

Driven by an understanding of the importance of role models, I am trying to do more in this space to help others, and myself. To be more visible, to share my story in a way that’s comfortable for me, in the hope that it might help others. And perhaps it will make me more comfortable referring to my wonderful partner as a ‘he’ in front of that room of strangers…

I firmly believe in strength through diversity. Diversity at every level, in every way. As leaders, making sure we create and foster inclusive environments that allow people to be themselves, to feel that they belong and therefore thrive, can only be a great thing for everyone, and good for business.

As co-vice chair of the City of London Law Society Training Committee, working with our chair (Patrick McCann of Linklaters – a personal (gay) role model and mentor) and a group of other incredible, inspiring people, we are in the final stages of building a transformation development training programme for queer-identifying emerging legal leaders. An opportunity I am extremely grateful for, and proud to be a part of. 

If only that young boy growing up in South Africa knew what the future would hold. He might not have been so hard on himself, for so long.