Steven LaChance Blog

You know, I came out to my parents before anyone else. My mom was the first to know. Then again, a mother always knows. I believe that is true.

It was not easy being the odd man out in a family. You learn to adjust. You learn to pay attention.

Every time I encountered homophobia in my family, I knew it, even when the person didn’t know I knew. A few aunts and uncles belonged in that group as well. I always knew.

The hardest part is when it hits closer.

My older half brother used to ask my mom on a regular basis, “Is Steven gay?” Her answer was always the same. That is a question for you to ask him, not me.

He never asked me. What he did not know was that every time he asked her, she told me.

My mom was the hero of this story once again. She understood that if anyone wanted to know, all they had to do was ask me. She redirected it back where it belonged, to me, to the only person who could answer.

Of course, they never asked.

That would have taken away the talk behind my back. It would have ended the conversations they thought I wasn’t hearing.

Spoken knowingly. Spoken deliberately.

Personally, I felt it was none of his damn business. If he wanted to know, he could have asked me instead of playing games behind my back. But that is who he was, and that is who he has always been.

Yes, I still get angry when I think about it.

Because here is the truth.

While he was asking those questions, pretending not to know, he was also telling the most horrible gay jokes at family functions. Making sure to do it in front of me. Not once. Not accidentally. Deliberately. All of the time.

Instead of asking, he chose to hurt.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

What he did not know was that I knew too. The joke was always on him. Every queer joke revealed him. His homophobia. His racism.

You do not forget vindictive hate once you see it. Once that cat is out of the bag, it does not go back in.