him all about what happened. At least I didnât have to be subjected to that conversation.
He sat down on my bed and asked me to put the book down.
âJack, I want you to look at me,â he said. âI love you, Jack. Just know that youâll always be my son, and Iâll always love you.â
Like Mom, my dad wasnât upset that I was gay. He also just wanted me to be happy. And I could tell he meant it.
âI know,â I said.
I had never asked for his support, but having it meant the world.
Luke, however, was a different story. We barely spoke the first few days after I told my parents, even though I was sure that he knew what had happened. I knew he was busy, so it didnât worry me at first. But once we did start talking, I could tell that something was different. I noticed his sense of humor toward me had changed. He had always picked on me for just about everything, which I knew was to be expected from a big brother, but now there seemed to be a bit of an edge to his jabs.
It was clear to me that Luke was not cool with having a gay brother. Not even a little. This hurt on so many levels. My classmates and teachers were one thing, but Iâd always looked up to Luke. His approval meant far more than Iâd ever be comfortable letting him know.
One day after Luke had made a particularly hurtful comment, I ran up to my room because I couldnât let him see me cry. I felt miserable and lost.
My mom tried to make me feel better, but she didnât always succeed. One day as we sat in the waiting room at the dentistâs office, she told me that I was going to have to toughen up.
âYou are going to have to be ready in the event that some people might treat you differently now,â she told me.
âWhat do you mean?â I asked.
âWell,â she said, âsome parents might have an issue with letting their kids have sleepovers with you and things like that, but donât worry, whatever comes up, we will get through it.â
Since Jake and Sam had moved, I didnât have any friends to have sleepovers with, but still, I hadnât even thought about future friends. I began thinking of all the things that could change in my life now that everyone knew I was gay.
During my final stretch of middle school, I thought that I was going to have to live a life completely without real friends. I didnât want to show how much pain I was feeling, so I kicked my cheerfulâIâm gay and amazingâ act into full gear.
I buried myself in the world of science and math, which was always an escape for me. After I stopped pretending that I was heterosexual, I also gave up the act that I wasnât into mathâas if anyone had believed that anyway! When I was doing an experiment, I didnât have to hide who I was or worry about how others viewed me. It was a safe space where the only things that mattered were my ideas and how well I could execute them.
But no amount of first-place awards could give me relief from the crushing pain I felt every day. After coming out, there was a clique of girls who were nicer to me, but the guys were a different story. They were hell-bent on making sure I never experienced a single moment of peace. And they succeeded.
Howâs it going, fag?
Are you going to run to the bathroom and cry, Jack?
You know what happens to homos, right?
I tried to remind myself that eventually middle school would end. I was counting down the days.
One afternoon, when my middle school graduation was finally in sight, I came home to find Mom waiting by the door again.
âJack, sit down,â she said. There were tears in her eyes. âThere is something I need to tell you.â
It was Uncle Ted. He had passed away.
I felt too numb to cry.
It shouldnât have come as a shock, but it did. Uncle Ted had been fighting pancreatic cancer for the past six months and had become very, very sick. But despite all the evidence, I just
He sat down on my bed and asked me to put the book down.
âJack, I want you to look at me,â he said. âI love you, Jack. Just know that youâll always be my son, and Iâll always love you.â
Like Mom, my dad wasnât upset that I was gay. He also just wanted me to be happy. And I could tell he meant it.
âI know,â I said.
I had never asked for his support, but having it meant the world.
Luke, however, was a different story. We barely spoke the first few days after I told my parents, even though I was sure that he knew what had happened. I knew he was busy, so it didnât worry me at first. But once we did start talking, I could tell that something was different. I noticed his sense of humor toward me had changed. He had always picked on me for just about everything, which I knew was to be expected from a big brother, but now there seemed to be a bit of an edge to his jabs.
It was clear to me that Luke was not cool with having a gay brother. Not even a little. This hurt on so many levels. My classmates and teachers were one thing, but Iâd always looked up to Luke. His approval meant far more than Iâd ever be comfortable letting him know.
One day after Luke had made a particularly hurtful comment, I ran up to my room because I couldnât let him see me cry. I felt miserable and lost.
My mom tried to make me feel better, but she didnât always succeed. One day as we sat in the waiting room at the dentistâs office, she told me that I was going to have to toughen up.
âYou are going to have to be ready in the event that some people might treat you differently now,â she told me.
âWhat do you mean?â I asked.
âWell,â she said, âsome parents might have an issue with letting their kids have sleepovers with you and things like that, but donât worry, whatever comes up, we will get through it.â
Since Jake and Sam had moved, I didnât have any friends to have sleepovers with, but still, I hadnât even thought about future friends. I began thinking of all the things that could change in my life now that everyone knew I was gay.
During my final stretch of middle school, I thought that I was going to have to live a life completely without real friends. I didnât want to show how much pain I was feeling, so I kicked my cheerfulâIâm gay and amazingâ act into full gear.
I buried myself in the world of science and math, which was always an escape for me. After I stopped pretending that I was heterosexual, I also gave up the act that I wasnât into mathâas if anyone had believed that anyway! When I was doing an experiment, I didnât have to hide who I was or worry about how others viewed me. It was a safe space where the only things that mattered were my ideas and how well I could execute them.
But no amount of first-place awards could give me relief from the crushing pain I felt every day. After coming out, there was a clique of girls who were nicer to me, but the guys were a different story. They were hell-bent on making sure I never experienced a single moment of peace. And they succeeded.
Howâs it going, fag?
Are you going to run to the bathroom and cry, Jack?
You know what happens to homos, right?
I tried to remind myself that eventually middle school would end. I was counting down the days.
One afternoon, when my middle school graduation was finally in sight, I came home to find Mom waiting by the door again.
âJack, sit down,â she said. There were tears in her eyes. âThere is something I need to tell you.â
It was Uncle Ted. He had passed away.
I felt too numb to cry.
It shouldnât have come as a shock, but it did. Uncle Ted had been fighting pancreatic cancer for the past six months and had become very, very sick. But despite all the evidence, I just
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