{I Can Only Be.Me}

My younger brother is gay. Well, he’s 17, and can’t seem to make up his mind between girls and boys, but he calls himself gay so even though I’d rather call him bisexual – I’ll call him what he prefers.

I’ve always known. He and I were raised for the most part in separate houses; he with my mom and me with my grandparents, but when I saw him, and the few short periods that we lived together while we were growing up, I knew he was gay. Or that he was going to be gay. I knew from the time he was 6 years old.

So it was no surprise to me when he came out to our family last year. I was the first family member he told, months before he revealed what everyone already knew to the rest of them. No one took it well. My grandmother compared him to a pedophile. My mom told him to keep that shit away from her, and that when he graduated high school he had to leave. My uncle and grandfather basically just shake their heads at him when he passes by.

Now, in my mom’s defense – he’s a bad ass. He’s followed in my footsteps from day one and been a disciplinary pain his entire life. He’s a bit different than me though – my issues were with outsiders trying to tell me what to do. I was an everyday angel at home, but at school: they hated to see me coming. Andre is mean as fuck at home and at school. He’s lazy, disrespectful, and has a perpetual bad attitude. He’s a real pain.

So in all fairness, my mom has been done with him for years. He called her a bitch one too many times. Actually, she may have been done with him for much longer than that, being as he looks exactly like his father – a man she despises with a passion, but I don’t know – I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt. Yet, she seems to be using his sexual orientation as a reason behind not having anything to do with them after he graduates.

She herself has admitted that he’s always been what she called ‘strange’, preferring pink and purple to blue and green; his cousin’s dolls to his own matchbox cars; the company of girls to boys amongst his peers. But, although she realizes that he was probably born this way, she says that it’s a choice to act on it or not, and that he could easily choose not to and thusly, not be gay.

We had a conversation while I was visiting recently: me, my grandparents, my mom and my uncle – about my brother’s sexuality. I realized fully that I was the only one there who would support him and his lifestyle. There were comments like ‘he can’t bring that around here‘, ‘I can love him from afar‘, and ‘he’s going to end up with AIDS‘.  I was saddened, as I was disgusted by the place from which I came. But, I wasn’t surprised: not in the slightest.

I will be the lone person in this family to stand by him regardless of his orientation. I honestly don’t care. Not one bit. I will stand in his defense when they ridicule him and deprecate his feelings. If I was to cut off ties with him, it would be because he was too much of an asshole, not because he’s gay. I am so, so saddened for him that those who know him best and should be there for him the most are not. I hope that he develops friendships that can sustain him through life, to make up somewhat for what he may lose.

My family knows that I think their opinions are awful and I may not be able to cut them off, but I can choose who I surround myself with voluntarily. And that does not include prejudiced or homophobic people. I thoroughly despise it when people use ‘gay’ as a term to describe something negative or unsatisfactory. Like it really, really pisses me the fuck off. I give warnings – I know it’s pretty common nowadays, so I tell people that I don’t appreciate it and allow them ample opportunity to stop it around me. If they don’t – buh-bye. Fuck off. I have no room in my life for intolerance.

So, if you’re intolerant: Fuck. Off.

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