This was it.
The expectant tension was building in our awkward phone conversation to an almost unbearable degree. I felt myself struggling to regulate my breath and appear nonchalant. He struggled for words, a way to open the door, for the very first time to anyone.
His fear became so present, it felt like we may shatter when he finally found the words.
My brother is gay.
When he finally told me, a few months from graduating high school in the spring of 2004, every single bad, derogatory, judgemental comment I had ever heard about gay people played out in my memory. We did not grow up in a home where bigotry and hateful speech was ever uttered. But we grew up mormon. A place where they talked about the sin of homosexuality. A place where t.v. shows like Ellen, or Will and Grace were considered immoral and inappropriate. Where…
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