It’s not easy being gay, and normalizing it in the family. It’s not easy talking about it with brothers. It stirs up a lot of emotion; a lot of identity; letting down our guards with each other between horseplay and comfort; figuring out where I fit with my boyfriends and their girlfriends; letting myself be part of the family, and letting myself have my privacy.
It keeps me neutral to discuss too openly my own sense of my spirituality, finding peace in my non-debates over beliefs-systems, yet anchored in my own sense of the universe and where I fit within the cosmic glue. My siblings and I were taught diverse beliefs with parents of different faiths.
We went to two different places of worship, one in the morning, one in the afternoon, and sometimes even back to another at night…then I even went religion-shopping because I still felt confused: About god, about religion, about how my sexuality was defined within the diverse beliefs. I can not speak to my brothers’ experiences, but I can speak to my own path; to a path of comfort with my sense of god without religion; to a sense of spirituality without rules and regulations meant to control, brainwash, or where questioning is equated with evilness.
My belief about the soul is part of where I feel my love for my brothers. True, I feel deep brotherly love for fictive kinships; for where I feel community with friends I have sought out; for siblings whom I have adopted, with whom I have grown to love and trust; patterned alongside strong beginnings of devotion and care I learned in my earliest and formative stages with two wonderful brothers from my own family of origin.
My love for my brothers is genuine and a choice; not just a duty. In my youth, I was taught to love my brothers out of duty; to care about their feelings and experiences; to never harm them; and to not be stingy with saying’ “I love you”…ever. When I came out, I know it was not easy for them. I wanted to talk about my feelings, and conversely, there were parts of my experiences and development I did not want to share.
I am sure neither of my brothers quite knew how to relax enough to let me go through coming out, and not let my road trigger their own comfort with their own paths. I needed to let go of where I did not fit in our faith-based teachings, and to discuss it less and less with them…and focus more on my care for them, and their care for me. In the end, isn’t care all that really matters? I love one bother, and I love one brother; I do not love one more than the other; and I love each individually in ways I can only love each brother.
I know our Dad loves each of us individually and limitless; and I know our Mom loved us fiercely. When I think about my parents’ care for us, it’s easy for me to understand my undefinable care for my brothers: To remember with kindness how we roughhoused, talked about any and every topic over mealtimes, and respected one another’s different interests, creativity and passions. What I now know is I respect my brothers, and it comes from my own self-respect first.
I stopped thinking about how my coming out or how my diverse sexuality does or does not fit alongside their partners or wives or children; their friends’ views on their gay brother Michael; their communities’ views on ‘didn’t you hear he has a gay brother living in Toronto’ (as if a silent hush of disapproval is supposed to be inserted here).
I could not care less about what others think. I only think I am proud of my brothers; of how they are built; of how they think; of their careers and families; of my respect for them, and their respect for me. I am proud of the legacies we each carry for the other; because we love our parents, our relatives, and our own communities.
We have grown into men who are intelligent, charming and witty. We may not see each other very much, and sometimes we may speak only rarely, but we love each other. I really do not care any more about how being gay does or does not affect their lives. I care more that I love my brothers very much, and I am so lucky to have them. To my brothers, “I love you”. You are part of my soul. (By Michael Best to DOSmagazine)
