Queer and Queerer Ep. 57 – Coming Out To Your Wife At 53 (ft. Peter Leeson)

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Zack and Peterson welcome Peter Leeson onto the show this week—do note the distinction between Peterson and Peter LEEson. Our first trans-Atlantic guest! (Shane doesn’t count because he was in the U.S. with us when we recorded.) Peter came out as gay to his wife of 27 years at the age of 53 and decided to maintain his faithfulness to her. He shares with us his story about coming to terms with his identity during andropause and his experiences working with the LGBTQ community while not “acting” on his sexuality. Learn more about his story through the links below!

The Queer and Queerer Podcast!

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Here’s some more information about what we talked about this week:

» Peter was profiled in The Times (Times subscribers only).

» Peter also shared his story in the short film, “Latecomers.”

» Also mentioned: The Boston Diocese lists all its accused child abusers.

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There are 3 Comments to "Queer and Queerer Ep. 57 – Coming Out To Your Wife At 53 (ft. Peter Leeson)"

  • Peter Leeson says:

    You forgot Wilfred Owen’s poem:

    It Was a Navy Boy

    It was a navy boy, so prim, so trim,
    That boarded my compartment of the train.
    I shared my cigarettes and books to him.
    He shared his heart to me (Who knows my gain!)

    (His head was golden like the oranges
    That catch their brightness from Las Palmas sun.)
    ‘O whence and whither bound, lad?’ ‘Home,’ he says,
    ‘Home, from Hong Kong, sir, and a ten months’ run.’

    (His blouse was all as blue as morning sea,
    His face was fresh like dawn above that blue.)
    ‘I got one letter, sir, just one,’ says he,
    ‘And no shore-leave out there, sir, for the crew.’

    (His look was noble as a good ship’s prow
    And all of him was clear as pure east wind.)
    ‘I am no “sir”‘, I said, ‘but tell me now
    What carried you? Not tea, nor tamarind?’

    Strong were his silken muscles hiddenly
    As under currents where the waters smile.
    ‘Nitre we carried. By next week maybe
    That should be winning France another mile.’

    His words were shapely, even as his lips,
    And courtesy he used like any lord.
    ‘Was it through books that you first thought of ships?
    ‘Reading a book, sir, made me go abroad.’

    ‘Another hour and I’ll be home,’ he said.
    (His eyes were happy even as his heart.)
    ‘Twenty-five pounds I’m taking home,’ he said,
    ‘It’s five miles there; and I shall run, best part.’

    And as we talked, some thing he said to me
    Not knowing, cleansed me of cowardice,
    As I had braced me in the dangerous sea.
    Yet I should scarce have told it but for this.

    ‘Those pounds,’ I said. ‘You’ll put some twenty by?’
    ‘All for my mother, sir.’ And turned his head.
    ‘Why all?’ I asked, in pain that he should sigh:
    ‘Because I must. She needs it most,’ he said.

    Wilfred Owen 1915.

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