I kissed a cute guy – then he mugged and attacked me

I’ve been attacked because of my sexuality on multiple occasions (Picture: Jules Von Hep)

As I left the bar at a concert a few weeks ago, a man muttered a homophobic slur under his breath at me. 

I went cold – there’s that hate again. 

Shame hit me. I wanted to ignore him and move on, but slurs are something I’ve been called most of my life and I shouldn’t have to accept it. 

‘What did you just call me?’ I shot back. His friends profusely apologised and made excuses. He didn’t. 

I walked away and let it go. I didn’t report it because I’d have needed his details and trying to obtain them from a group of men when I was on my own was not something I wanted to tackle.

It wasn’t the first time I’d been verbally or physically abused for being gay. In fact I’ve been attacked because of my sexuality on multiple occasions, and it’s sometimes made me want to hide away from the world. 

But, after years of working hard to shake off internal shame, I’ve found strength in family, friends and queer community and it’s what I’ve needed to keep going and hold my head high with pride.

In my twenties I still struggled with confidence (Picture: Eoin Greally)

Growing up, I was homophobically abused pretty much every week – Nottingham in the early noughties didn’t feel LGBT friendly. 

As a teenager I was spat on, had ‘fag’ yelled at me from cars, water thrown over me, and even been punched in the street – you name it, I suffered it. 

By the time I turned 18, my confidence was depleted. 

Luckily, my female friends were incredibly supportive – they encouraged me to go to gay bars and helped me understand nothing was wrong with me. 

But in my twenties I still struggled with confidence, especially around my appearance. 

Convinced I was ugly, I blamed my body and looks for why awful things would happen to me. 

This shaped my experiences, and on reflection, I made some poor and dangerous choices – but one theme remained consistent: homophobic abuse.

The abuse I suffered led me to make poor decisions (Picture: Eoin Greally)

One incident was during university in 2005, when I met a man who chatted me up and asked me to go home with him. 

We kissed outside – and then and he mugged me, punching me in the stomach and calling me a fag. 

I was so used to receiving homophobic abuse that I didn’t report it to the police because I thought it was normal.

Stonewall reports that 64% of LGBTQ+ people had experienced anti-LGBT+ hate crimes – with 92% of those experiencing verbal abuse, 29% physical abuse and 17% experienced sexual violence. 

In 2018, I was on a night out with friends on Canal Street in Manchester. I was violently attacked at random on the dancefloor of a gay bar. I was struck with a blow to the head and kicks to my stomach and ribs. 

My friends screamed and helped me up to take me home, but my life changed from that moment. 

I learnt to put myself first and prioritise what makes me truly happy (Picture: Jacob Van Rozelaar)

I felt dirty and hated. For weeks, I struggled to leave the house and felt immense shame around myself and my sexuality. I couldn’t cope at work and had to return to my parents to process what had happened. 

When I reported it to the police, I felt dismissed when the male officer asked, ‘How do you know it was a homophobic attack?’

I gave up fighting – not even leaving my details with the venue – but the attackers’ faces are etched in my mind and always will be.

The following months were incredibly challenging. Sudden noises overwhelmed me. My confidence was shattered. 

I stopped going to gay nightclubs for fear it would happen again. But through therapy and life coaching, I learnt coping mechanisms and tips such as speaking to myself as I would a best friend, trusting my gut and intuition, and being ok with saying no. 

I learnt to put myself first and prioritise what makes me truly happy on the inside. 

Now, I’m married to the most beautiful man, living near the sea with our dog and trying for a family (Picture: Jacob Van Rozelaar)

After these practices began to work for me and my confidence rebuilt I felt comfortable to visit gay nights clubs and venues again.

The attack changed me forever, but I’ve chosen to focus on growth. It made me realise how quickly life can shift – and that I needed to focus on what truly makes me happy.

Almost a year after the attack, as I was rebuilding my confidence, I went to a quiet straight bar with friends. I clocked eyes with the most beautiful man. For the first time, I found the confidence to walk over to a stranger. I chatted him up and asked for his number. 

Eight years later, I’m still with that man – married, living near the sea with our dog and trying for a family. Through dark times comes light. 

In my career as a global beauty expert, personality and creator I’ve been told by previous agents to hide my sexuality, that it shouldn’t define me. 

But I never want to hide something that is a big part of who I am – and that can help others feel accepted and safe.

When the rainbow flags fly, I feel safe. I feel people outside of the queer community have my back – just as I would have theirs. 

Whoever you are, confidence can be taken from you in an instant — but it never disappears. 

I’ve been the victim of homophobic abuse my whole life, and that recent incident at the concert shows its unlikely to stop. But I, like any other LGBT+ person reading this, have the power to rebuild it and come back stronger than ever. 

So be proud of who you are. 

And remember: love will always win.

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing [email protected]. 

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