Because of his disability, he lost his lifelong dream; because of his sexual orientation, he lost his family. The story of Martin David, a blind gay man, shows just how many blows from fate one can survive
Martin, your disability is clearly reflected in your life story; you yourself have admitted that it has made your life very difficult on at least one occasion. But what was your childhood like – was your blindness a burden even back then?
As a child, I lived in a sort of fantasy world. I didn’t feel that there was anything wrong with me. Until I was about seven, I lived under the impression that my sight might even improve, which was, of course, nonsense. But I was a child; I didn’t know exactly what was wrong with me, nor did I know the causes of my condition. On the other hand, looking back, I recall that those around me sort of felt sorry for me from childhood onwards. And that’s something that’s stayed with me to this day.
As well as being blind, you’re also gay. For the majority of people, it’s probably hard to imagine how someone who can’t see realises they’re attracted to men…
I’d like to say I can imagine it, but actually I can’t, because I’ve never seen. (laughter) Anyway, if I remember correctly, it began with a sort of realisation at primary school, when I was about 11 years old. So, basically, with the onset of puberty. I also learnt a bit from my brother, who can see, but mainly: boys seemed off-limits to me, and that – perhaps subconsciously – attracted me. I felt I was doing something differently, but by the end of secondary school I was starting to realise that it was ‘wrong’ and that I should be interested in girls. That that was the right thing to do and that I had to. So I found myself a girlfriend; of course, it was all a pretence, but I was trying to accommodate my parents as well.
Did your parents suspect you were gay, and did it bother them?
They didn’t suspect it – well, I don’t know about that – but in our family it was just a given that, as boys, we had to find a girlfriend and, as girls, they had to find a boyfriend.
How did your parents take it when you came out?
Well, that’s a story in itself. It wasn’t actually a ‘coming out’ in the true sense of the word. I never spoke about being gay at home; I’d even had a few girlfriends, most of whom my parents didn’t end up accepting either. So sexual orientation wasn’t really a topic in our family. I’m originally from a small town, and these things have always been – and still are – taboo there. I even have a relative of the same sexual orientation who, in the end, had to move to Prague precisely because of it.
As for my coming out specifically, I was actually trying to hide it even from myself, so it wasn’t until I was about 22 that I plucked up the courage to go to a gay sauna. And that’s sort of where I ‘found myself’. I certainly didn’t go around telling anyone about it with any great enthusiasm. But then one day, my siblings and I were having a drink, and after a few glasses I started telling them that I’d been to a gay sauna. They thought it was funny and wanted to know all the details. But then my sister told Mum, and all hell broke loose. My parents even forced me to take an HIV test. To this day, I don’t know why they wanted me to do it – perhaps they framed the result…
So I suppose family ties have been severed because of your sexual orientation…
Exactly. Mum doesn’t want to talk about my sexual orientation at all; it’s a taboo subject. And when I was at a party where a girl was dancing with me, my dad said: “You’re finally normal, you’ve finally been cured…” My parents aren’t together anymore, so I don’t have any contact with my dad at all these days. The last straw was a relative’s funeral, where my dad introduced my two siblings by name but just said of me: ‘That’s the third one’…
And do you have any idea why your parents are so bothered by the fact that you’re gay?
I don’t have a child and I never will. My parents wanted grandchildren from my brother and sister – and they got them. At least after finishing my studies, I decided to donate sperm; I thought that if I couldn’t have and raise a child myself, I could at least give that opportunity to someone else. But the test showed that, biologically speaking, I can’t have children anyway. I can’t say, though, whether that alone would have bothered our parents as much as the fact that I’m attracted to men.
Despite the fact that you don’t exactly have much support from your family, you manage to lead a fairly normal life, earning a living as a massage therapist. Is this profession exactly what you wanted to do, or does it stem from the fact that you’re blind?
Neither one nor the other. I do indeed earn a living as a masseur today, but that’s simply because, after finishing my studies, I completed a healthcare course and various other specialist training programmes. It’s true that for blind people, massage therapy is one of the traditional career paths to follow, so there are even courses designed specifically for the blind. However, I don’t like being treated differently from others, so I took the courses alongside sighted people. It wasn’t a walk in the park, though. They often asked me to sketch muscles onto a skeleton using a pencil, which I really couldn’t manage. It was even worse when I started work – again with sighted people. I encountered various forms of bullying there too – for example, a cleaner deliberately placed a bucket of water at my feet, and the whole reception area laughed when I tripped… That’s why I now prefer to avoid working in teams and work on my own. I’ve set up my own massage practice in Brno, but I wouldn’t exactly call this my dream job. I’m actually thinking of heading back to Prague.
So what is your ‘dream job’?
I did have a dream job. In fact, I went to great lengths to make sure I could actually do it. I graduated from the Jan Deyl Conservatoire in Prague, specialising in the transverse flute. I completed a bachelor’s degree in the same subject at JAMU in Brno. I had a relatively promising start to my musical career; I travelled to various concerts and competitions, and performed – both with piano accompaniment and with an orchestra. In the end, I even performed with a number of well-known figures, such as Kateřina Englichová and Jaroslav Svěcený. But I was also very naïve. I believed I could carry on playing like that; I wanted to devote myself to music. But after my final exams, I went to have a look at the Brno Philharmonic. That was exactly where I really wanted to play professionally. But I was told straight away that they wouldn’t take me. They justified it by saying that I wouldn’t be able to see the conductor.
So most of your life has been linked to music – yet your plans came crashing down like the proverbial ‘house of cards’. Was that difficult for you to get over?
It was a harsh blow for me, and I decided to give up music. At the age of 25, I was confronted with ‘normal’ life. These days, I just play at home from time to time. I must admit, though, that combined with a whole host of other problems and the state of relations within our family, I’m now also struggling with mental health issues. Everyone tells me that the key step is to forgive – but I don’t know whether to forgive myself or others; I’ve absolutely no idea how to go about it. In fact, I feel as though my purpose in life is to destroy myself. At the very least, that’s what the signs around me seem to suggest.
Finding a ‘ray of hope’ in life is often difficult. But you’ve overcome so many crushing blows that you must have at least some ‘secret source of vitality’…
I used to see a psychologist, but in the end I swapped her for a dog. (laughs) My dog is my partner now; thanks to him, I’ve got loads of different activities, and I’m also really supported by other dog owners. So I try not to dwell on these things too much. I also hope I’ll manage to find another job – I’m already actively working on that – and that way I won’t have much time to overthink everything… At the same time, I also believe that one day luck will smile on me and I’ll finally meet a life partner who’ll love me just the way I am. That’s probably what I want most of all. And maybe one day I’ll even play the flute again. Professionally and in front of an audience.
