Pride comes in many colours

Preamble

It being the end of Pride month, I’ve got some suitably colourful offers for you this week, the relevance of which you will understand over the next few paragraphs. And, in thinking about the subject of this week’s email, I realise that one of the privileges of getting older is that life occasionally introduces me to something I didn't expect to have to learn.

One of those lessons has been understanding what it means for my youngest daughter to become my youngest son.

I’ve never doubted my love for Joey, nor my desire to support him. What surprised me was how long it can take for old habits of thought and language to catch up.

When Joey suggested he might write something about his experiences for this newsletter, I was surprised as I'd never thought of this myself but initially unsure whether this was a suitable subject. But when he mentioned it for a second time I realised that how serious and enthused he was. As often happens in life, that enthusiasm was catching and I found myself warming to the idea of talking about a difficult subject that might also be of help to others in a similar position. And for those not directly affected, this personal story could also give a different perspective than the one portrayed in the media.

And, if you've experienced something similar yourself or in your own family, I hope you'll find comfort in knowing you're not alone. Here is Joey's brief account of his challenging journey, to date.

It's Joey Bluett-Duncan here, Andrew's youngest.

I was born a girl and spent the first 25 years of my life as a woman. In 2022, I realised that the reason I never felt quite right in my body was because I'm a transgender man.

It was a terrifying realisation. As someone who has always struggled to fit in, the idea of identifying with a group that has historically been ostracised, was frightening. I've done a lot of work to fight the shame that comes with that; but I wouldn't be as happy as I am now without the people around me who have shown me love and understanding.

Coming out happened in stages. My friends were first. They reacted with nothing but acceptance, love and encouragement; I am luckier than I can say. Then my family. That one felt scarier, despite knowing logically I wouldn't be shunned. I barely remember the conversation, only that we were all sat around the table, and that they heard me. My brother switched to Joey and He/Him almost instantly. For Dad and Jeanne it took more getting used to, but neither of them ever stopped trying. The relief of that weight lifting off my shoulders is something I'll never forget.

I've had three jobs since coming out. If you're a Reigate regular, you might recognise me from Pret a Manger or Caffe Nero. Those teams played a huge part in building my confidence. I started at Pret, planning to keep quiet about being trans, thinking it would keep me safe. That resolve lasted about five minutes, because a colleague asked me the most magical question: "What are your pronouns?", with such genuine, warm curiosity that I heard myself answer "He/Him" before I'd made any conscious decision to do so. I didn't have to ask a single coworker to use them. They were all informed, and every one of them got on board. Some of the older ones found it harder, but they were trying, and that meant everything. I never had to justify myself or fight for basic respect This made being referred to as a woman by customers feel like water off a duck's back.

Then, entirely unexpectedly, I ended up at Art of Living. Unexpectedly because I had shown approximately 0% interest in the family business up to that point, but I'd grown so tired of working for companies that treat people as a cost rather than the point, that I marched into the shop and talked Em (our General Manager) into giving me a chance. (Still a nepo kid. Some self-awareness, at least.) She took me on, and now they can't get rid of me.

I expected to find a workplace that finally put people first. What I didn't expect was to feel more seen here than anywhere before. I was nervous, I was used to working with 16-35-year-olds, people who, from my experience, are very likely to be fully accepting of LGBTQ+ people. I was now going to work somewhere with an older age bracket (I shan't disclose the numbers to protect the dignity of my esteemed and experienced colleagues). I worried I'd lose the safety net I'd built. I'm glad to say that fear had no foundation.

Working for Art of Living has given me many opportunities to have conversations about being trans, born from that same kind curiosity my Pret coworker extended to me, and a desire to understand. Those conversations have reminded me that people don't need to know everything about someone else's experience to treat them with kindness and respect.

Joey B-D

On more than one occasion since he shared his experience. I have dearly wished that Babette was still alive to help me get used to this new reality.

I suspect many parents and family members find themselves where I did, and where I currently am, supportive (of him), but occasionally bewildered.

If that's you, I'd encourage you not to let the fear of getting it wrong stop you from engaging. The people we love rarely ask for perfection, they just ask us to be there for them, simply to keep showing up.

I’m very grateful to Joey for giving me the time and patience to do exactly that. His patience, understanding and maturity, love in short, have remained a constant throughout.

To Product

Joey here again…

So, as it's Pride month, it feels only right to celebrate Le Creuset's Rainbow collection (if a little on the nose), but I think life, and your table, should be lived in full colour.

This week you can get anything from our Pride collection including Le Creuset's Rainbow range for 25% off RRP using code PRIDE25 or tell us who you are when coming into the shops.

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