family
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Family secrets have a strange way of shaping our lives, even when we do not know they exist. They live in the background, quietly influencing relationships, behavior, and how we see ourselves. I learned this firsthand when I found out, well into my fifties, that my two older brothers were actually my half-brothers. We shared…
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In the quiet French countryside, in a town most people have never heard of, my family’s story begins. The place is called Bréban, France. It sits in the Aube region, surrounded by fields that know the rhythm of harvest, the hush of snow, and the silence of centuries. Bréban is the kind of town where…
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Lately, I’ve been feeling the weight of time. It’s hitting me that I’ve lived more years than I probably have left, and no matter how I try to shake it, the truth stays. One day, I won’t be here. And that day is coming faster than I ever imagined. One morning, people who love me…
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The other day I was going through some old family photos and came across a picture of one of my great grandfathers. I stopped and just stared at it. The truth is, I know almost nothing about him. I didn’t even know he ran a small store in the Soulard area of St. Louis. That’s…
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When I was raising my three children as a single gay father in a small Midwestern town, I had to hide being gay. It wasn’t something I ever wanted to do, it was something I had to do. I had come out at 29 to the people in my life who truly mattered, but to…
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Life isn’t supposed to be a series of “gotcha” moments. You know the kind—those little traps people set in conversations, waiting for someone to slip up just so they can say, “Aha! I caught you.” In healthy relationships, that kind of behavior doesn’t belong. But in dysfunctional families, it can become the norm. I lived…
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I hate secrets. It’s true—I always have. All my life, I’ve struggled with secrets, especially keeping them. It’s just not how I live. Very early in adulthood, I realized how important it was not to live in secrecy. Some of you who know me might say, “But you were in a straight marriage.” That’s true—I…
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When I was little, my mom told me she was going to redecorate my room. I remember the thrill of choosing paint swatches—so deep a royal blue it felt like diving into the night sky. As the first coats went on, the room took on a hushed glow, and we pressed glow‑in‑the‑dark stars into the…
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Each year, Easter meets me in a different place. This year, I needed to write through the noise—to return to what’s real, to what still rises. This is that reflection.
Steven LaChance Blog 