'It’s totally unacceptable to be gay in our community, a huge no, no. If you are, you are either forced to live a lie regardless, or flee.
You are expected to be a hard man, a real tough guy. In a community where fist fighting is normal, we're raised to be Alpha males.
And life follows a strict pattern of expectations.
We all marry at 16, ready to start a huge family. Men choose brides at 14 and then go on to have the traditionally outrageous wedding – all the trappings.
My dad's family is well respected in our community — they're a hard bunch, so I was expected to be tough too. I had no choice but to conform.
So aged eight I joined a boxing gym.
Dad watched me. Teeth gritted and egging me on, he looked prouder with every blow.
'That's my boy,' he'd say, as I wiped sweat and blood from my brow. 'You'll do well at school, fighting the other boys.'
But the truth was I hated it. I couldn't stand violence.
The thought of hurting another person made me feel faint.
Pulling on my gloves every time I'd feel my heart sink.
But I felt I had to fight to honour my family.
At school I was bullied because of my culture.
Instead of standing up for my roots, I hated the traditions it brought.
'You've got to fight through it,' dad told me. 'Show em who's boss.'
'I can't do it,' I thought. I desperately wanted to fit in, but it just wasn't in me.
Mum and dad argued about me openly.
'He's a wuss,' dad sneered.
'He's only a child, and your son — leave him alone!' Mum replied. She always jumped to my defence. But I felt pressure to live up to dad's expectations.
When I was nine I was even sent to see a child psychiatrist.
But nothing changed.
My dad tried to make me fight and I tried to avoid it at all costs.
By the time I was 12 I knew I was different.
Most of my close friends were girls and we played together. I loved skipping and playing rounders, not the rough games the boys played.
A year later I found myself becoming attracted to other lads.
I was mortified.
Where I'm from at 13 you are classed a man and a fully fledged fighter.
If the community ever found out I was gay I'd be dead meat.
Trying desperately to hide it I willed myself to try to fancy girls. But it was no use. Boys got my heart racing.
At the same time my family were putting on the pressure for me to find a wife.
It was a nightmare. I was introduced to a few girls.
I'd pretended to be shy so I wasn’t left alone with any of them. Luckily I never got remotely close to any of the girls.
But I knew it wouldn't last forever.
My dad was angry that I wasn't set on choosing my bride-to-be.
I just worried he'd suspected something.
I lived in fear, scared for my own safety. Crazy when these people were meant to be family.
I left school at 16 and moved in with my nan. My nan was elderly and lived in static housing. We were always close. She lived a few minutes away, but it was far enough for the community not to see me everyday had work it out.
Five years later I moved into my own flat and started a degree in community welfare at Brighton university.
Then one night I was in a gay club when I saw my cousin.
He was down having a laugh with his pals. I tried to hide but, he'd seen me.
'Wotcha cuz, what you doing here?’ I said, slapping me on the back.  'This place is for poofs.'
I hesitated, unable to think of an excuse.
'I'm gay,' I blurted.
His face dropped, like he'd seen a ghost.
'You're what?' He spat.
'Please don't tell anyone,' I begged.
He barely said a word, but after an hour of pleading, he agreed to keep quiet.
The next day he went straight to my family and told them.
I was horrified. How could he betray me like that?
Now my secret was out my whole world would come to an end.
Scared for my life I ran away.
I became homeless for a while before moving 300 miles to the North  (subs- he doesn't want to give his whereabouts for fear of reprisal)
My dad refused to talk to me. People told me he's disgusted, thinks I've let the whole community down and he is deeply ashamed of me.
Mum's been okay about it, I think deep down she always knew.
That bombshell dropped a year ago now.
I barely speak to my family now.  
When I do see them I can see the hurt and disgust in my dad’s eye’s.
I hope one day he'll accept me. I'm still his son after all.
Until then I'm happy with my partner *Gavin.
We met in a gay club a few months ago. Gavin finds dodging the gypsies difficult – he's at risk of getting walloped too.
I tend to stay in more these days, but when I go out I'm constantly looking over my shoulder.
Gavin and me are determined not to let it get us down.
One thing's for sure though. I wouldn't change who I am for anyone.
At least I'm not living a lie.
I can’t help who I am, gypsy or not.