Niall Crowley, EMEA Diversity, Equity and Inclusion Manager based in London, discusses his experiences growing up on the outskirts of a town in County Cork, Ireland and his journey through feelings of shame and fear to the joy of feeling seen and accepted.

I grew up on the outskirts of a town in County Cork, Ireland in a religious household. From a young age I had always felt my life partially set out for me. Back then, no one really spoke about being gay and those that did usually spoke in a negative manner. I had always believed that I would adhere to what we perceive as societal norms – act a certain way, be a certain type of person, get married and have a family by a particular age. Spoiler alert, it really didn't turn out like this.

It was in my later school years that I knew I was 'different' to the majority around me. Again,being gay was not something anyone spoke openly about, I didn't know any LGBTIQ+ role models and LGBTIQ+ representation just wasn't a thing in my life at that age. When I started to realise that actually I might be gay, something I didn't come to accept until seven years later, it was far from a positive thought. Quite quickly I had learnt to suppress most feelings and emotions linked to being LGBTIQ+, which in turn led me to develop a strong sense of internal shame. For years, I had convinced myself that it was a phase, regularly praying for it to pass and always wondering to myself – “why me, what did I do to deserve this?"

The next few years passed and there isn't a lot to say about them apart from the fact that in every aspect of my life, education, work, family and friends, I never told anyone. Slowly and over time, that feeling of shame continued to build up until it turned into fear. Fear of what would happen if people knew, fear of letting people down, and fear of being treated less than those around me.

Fast forward a couple of years and I'm the first person in my family who has the opportunity to attend university. A life changing experience which was about to change my life for the better.Although it was one of the happiest times in my life so far, for the first two years I continued to hide who I was, building on that shame and fear again and again. By this stage, my health and wellbeing had taken a noticeable turn and I had hit a new low. However, in one of my darkest moments, with the support of lifelong, compassionate and caring friends, I would finally say those two words out loud for the first time – I'm gay.

While it was an enormous weight off my shoulders to say those words out loud, it was the response I received that actually had the biggest impact. Our words matter and language is important. Telling me that it made no difference to them if I was gay or not, and that I'm still the same person, was the beginning of me shedding those layers of shame and fear that I had self-inflicted for years. It's hard to put it into words the feeling of being accepted and celebrated for who you are.

Now to face the biggest challenge of all – telling my family. They say people come out when the time is right and you'll know when that is. I didn't follow that philosophy at all and decided,quite abruptly, on Christmas Eve that I could no longer keep this part of my life hidden. I sat my parents down and for the second time I would say those two words again. For many people, this isn't always a pleasant thing to do. I was fortunate that when I told them, the tears and laughter all came from a place of love, joy and acceptance.

I often wonder what life would be like for me today if the people I did come out to originally were not as open. I've seen the impact this has and can have. Our words matter. Language matters. But equally, allyship does too.

In 2015, Ireland went to the polls to vote on marriage equality and became the first country to approve same-sex marriage with 62 percent of the popular vote. A deeply personal cause for me. For a country to overwhelming vote yes to gay marriage, it sent a strong message of acceptance, equality and inclusion. It is a feeling hard to put into words, I was simply overwhelmed with tears of joy and feelings of love and respect as the final result was announced in Dublin castle. I felt a great deal of pride, freedom, fearlessness and acceptance,to mention just a few.

I look back now as I write this piece and all I can think about is going back in time to tell my younger self that it is all going to be OK. You'll eventually tell some of your closest friends and family and their response will not only reassure you of who you are, but it will give you the strength and courage to live a life free of shame and fear. I owe so much to the people who never judged or pressured me, but instead let me open up to them when I was ready. There is a real power in being accepted by those around you for being your true self.

Today, I am a proud member of the LGBTIQ+ community and will continue through my work to advocate and advance LGBTIQ+ inclusion. While progress has been made recently, it's important that we don't become complacent. There is still a lot to do. I never want to go back to that place of feeling shame and fear for simply being who I am. We owe it to the people around us and for future generations to build a society and culture that celebrates, accepts and empowers all LGBTIQ+ people.