Julius Reuben

Julius has fought every inch of the way to be who he is, to live not just exist. He has not had the luxury of taking anything for granted. Not even his childhood back in Tanzania. ‘At the age of 4 or 5 I knew I was gay, that’s to say I knew I was different. By six I was being called batty boy. I

harrowing journey. The support a young boy needed so badly just wasn’t there. ‘At eight or nine I was raped by an older pupil. He told his friends and three of them raped me. I came home late after having been raped. I was beaten for being late. So I was raped, and then beaten. I only told my mum years later when I thought she was dying. My first suicide attempt was when I was eight. There were a few attempts. But I decided, since I didn’t succeed, that if God wants me to stay, well okay I’ll live my way, what’s right for me, fighting my way.’

This wasn’t the interview I had been expecting, but it’s what Julius wanted to talk about and I admit it was hard to remain dispassionate, uninvolved. There’s a rage that you cannot help but feel at this kind of heart-wrenching injustice and abuse. But that wasn’t what stayed with me after we said our goodbyes. Rather more a sense of awe and deep respect that people survive all this; survive and flourish. Julius is not a victim, not even a survivor. He’s a winner, a champion, a hero. An example of taking hold of life and making it work.

As for exactly how Julius has survived, and remained one of life’s winners: ‘I keep busy. My biggest thanks is to fashion – it has saved me from this world. I am now a man; a man who has grown up very strong indeed - but there is a child still crying, “Please can you give me my dreams…” I’ve stayed in the dark so many times. The child has not yet been set free. The adult within me has not yet made sense of the child within. There is a line where child meets man. I am still looking for that line.”

Julius talks of his ‘big respect’ for drag queens. The fact that they go out there, confident, nothing hidden about them, they get beaten up, and they still get out there. It’s obvious that Julius is really talking about himself. Being beaten up by life. Still getting out there.

All this, unsurprisingly, has led to Julius growing up, not staying in the teenage mode of so much of gay life with its preoccupation with sex. Not that you get the slightest feeling that Julius would ever apologise about sex. He seems very comfortable with his sexuality, his body, its sensuality and sexiness but, ‘I want to concentrate on my career, on the spiritual dimension of who I am. And I want to keep on fighting, for me, for my friends.'

fought it at first. Seemed that it was some sort of aggressive word and it was used with so much anger towards me. I don’t know exactly when I came to an acceptance of my difference but one thing I know for sure, it took a long while, especially in my soul and spirit. At school I was apart from people. There was no support.’ But in all this he found his own identity. ‘Fashion was my way of expressing myself – I wore the same trousers as everyone else at school, but mine were the best.’

Religion became an escape, a veil as much as any fabric, another form of self-protection. ‘I felt a calling to be a Catholic priest. I had no feelings for women. No one and nothing else made me happy. At the beginning the faith thing was real. At church, mass would finish, I’d be kneeling, praying fervently, crying. I’d tell the priest, “I would like to be like you” – you know, the robes, the whole persona. I’d dream of wearing a big beautiful dress, looking like Cinderella, escaping to a place where there is happiness. I dreamt of walking on stage looking fab, being adored… At night I’d finish my prayers so fast so I could sleep and dream. This was the best part of the day. I was safe. I’d dream of being Miss World… I think my mother and father knew what the situation was [with my sexuality]. My family have always fought the fact that I’m homosexual before I even noticed it.’ Julius explained that his family weren't happy he spent so much time with girls and church because they had guessed the reason why. ‘They would beat me when I got home. I was alone with no one to lean on. I’d go to my room, close the door, and play music and dance. And I erected a wall of fashion to protect me, so you couldn’t see the real me hidden by it all. So there I was: church, my first communion, prayers, fashion and dancing protected me.’

Julius speaks poignantly of his pain, and having no one to speak to. He told me, ‘My mum sort of came to terms with it [my sexuality]. She told me one day, “It’s okay with me…” But I won’t speak for my father. We don’t talk to each other.’ But even this grudging acceptance was much further along life’s