When queer artists create queer music, it does more than get us moving on the dance floor; it lifts us up and sets us free. Coming out later in life, Craig Brown shares how the music of Ben Platt and Troye Sivan gave him a haven to be his authentic self.
When I was a straight, I never worried about ‘safe spaces.’
I valued people and places where I could be vulnerable and called them ‘safe.’
The truth is, I was rarely exposed to ‘unsafe’ spaces.
When I realised that I was gay, working for a church-affiliated NGO, happily married with three amazing kids, and with much of my standing and self-esteem immersed in the ‘church world’, I was confronted with losing everything.
Those safe places suddenly didn’t seem so safe.
There was a six-week period early on when I feared that if I spoke aloud my truth, everything would come crashing down.
It was frightening.
Even typing ‘six weeks’ now, I’m aware that people have carried – are still carrying – that fear for years, even decades.
It felt longer than six weeks, I can assure you.
That’s when Ben Platt and Troye Sivan found me
I was at home, post my coming-out-to-myself Schitt’s Creek moment, hiding my life-changing realisation from my domestic reality.
I heard the joyous opening notes of Ben Platt’s Share Your Address coming from the living room – and was hooked.
It was exuberant, bold, drenched in self-parody.
And gay. So, so gay.
