Sometimes it’s necessary to “speak one’s truth,” if only in the interest of total honesty and self-disclosure. It’s often embarrassing and takes courage, but if the record is to be complete this has to be part of it. And it’s not just around sexuality. There’s also a level of self-judgement that seems legitimate (the kind of thing for which people say you should have compassion for) — that since the financial collapse of 1989-90 my own self-confidence was effectively shattered and my horizons shrank.
Consequently it is only through writing — and work in the garden — that I can redeem such a life. A volume of failures, and of things left behind. Supposedly lessons to be learned, though I’m not sure for what purpose. Are things that much clearer now?