Between my two siblings, and me I’ve always been the black sheep. My older sister has always been the perfect daughter that every parent wishes they had. The moment she started Kindergarten, she started a straight streak of 4.0 grades until she graduated from high school. Ending her reign as the senior president, the president of a nationally known choir group, president of the dance company, and also widely popular. To top it off, she goes to BYU with a major in Communications, has already reported on and off camera, and is going on a mission in exactly two weeks to the Philippines. As for me, I finished high school with barely a 3.0, because of my failing past in Jr. High. I was in the high school band but never made it to the top, I can dance but I’m to shy to express it, I ran for class officer for 2 years but never made it, and I have a lot of friends but I’m to shy to make more. I’m going to UVU, not BYU, with a major in Communications, but have no idea where I’m going with it. I’m a member of the Mormon Church but I don’t plan on it for much longer. The differences between my sister and me are just as dramatic as black and white.
I was always jealous of her life. She had the same friends from Elementary school that also became her roommates in college. I didn’t discover who my real friends were until my senior year of high school. I would rebel against her ways just so that people would know I was different. I was always known as “Danielle’s little sister” and I hated it. The only thing it was good for was to suck up to the teachers that loved her.
We always got along in the past. I’d make up new dances and play dress up the best I could with her as long as she played Zelda or Mario Kart with me on the Nintendo. When she’d go off to school, I’d wait and wait for her to come home just so that we could watch Arthur while she told me the many adventures she had at a place I didn’t understand. One summer, she even put me and my brother on a very strict diet and exercise program. I was only 8, but I followed everything she said. She made me lunch every day with the right amount of fruit and veggies, she read me horror stories of being to fat but also of being to skinny, and she taught me how to do cart wheels, back bends, and other impressive moves. If we followed the “queen” exactly, she’d reward my brother and me with paper circles colored gold in exchange for a ten-minute break. She was always in charge and very bossy. But my brother and me loved it, we looked up to her.
My younger brother is basically the same as my older sister, but the biggest difference between my relationship with him and her is he’s my best friend. He sings, dances, already has scholarships for fashion, has 3.9 grades, and makes friends with anyone that crosses his path. The only reason he’s not considered another golden child in the family is the fact that he’s a homosexual 17-year-old boy.
He decided to come out to my parents and me during Sunday dinner after my parents had just battered me with questions about when I was going to get a specific blessing from a church member. I argued that there were some things that bothered me about the church, like the issue with gay marriage. Once that argument started, they asked my brother for his opinion, and out he came.
I wasn’t really surprised by his coming out. Even though he never forwardly told me, being as close to him as I am, I always knew he would lean that direction. The kid was brilliant, but always had a thing for fashion and also my red heels. But my parents acted like they had no idea. They were hurt, surprised, and worried, but our biggest fear was telling my older sister. She would either lash out in a rant or love and support her brother no matter his sexual preference.
My sister has always been a strict rule follower. She always got home by curfew, only socialized with the “good” kids at school, she would even make a loud hiss at a Victoria’s Secret commercial on the television, and most of all followed the rules of the bible stating that homosexuality was an abomination before god. I remember her going on an utter freak out when she saw me watching the Ellen Degeneres show, just because she was married to a woman. Telling her the news of my brother would be the beginning of a war between the three Ycmat children.
My family wanted to tell her during a more positive activity. We planned a short vacation to St. George, but my sister canceled. Her and her perfect boyfriend were planning on going out of town as well. We decided to tell her at the next “family council”. My parents tried to start the conversation by asking me about that blessing again. Before I could argue again, my brother stopped the conversation and said very bravely, “We’re here for me. I don’t want to be dancing around the subject; I’m just going to say it now. Danielle, I’m gay.”
Her response was just as I had expected. Tears, tears, small cussing, and more tears. She wasn’t happy. She held it in, said she supported him, but I knew it wasn’t over yet. Once my parents had left the room, I decided to stay, and she asked for my opinion.
Just as she was strong in her opinion, so was I. I supported my brother in anything he would do, as long as he was happy. Hell, I’d march in a parade for him with honor just so that he could get the same rights as me.
When it came to my brother, my sister and me had the same goal but different ways of getting there. I was supportive of my brother’s homosexuality for his life long happiness. My sister was against my brother’s homosexuality for his life long happiness.
Unlike my sister, I believe that it really is no one else’s business if two men or two women wish to be married. I’ve always believed that love works in very mysterious ways, and cannot be controlled. A homosexual boy walking through the halls of high school would change his feelings for the same sex if he could, it would stop the abuse he gets everyday. Two people, no matter what sex, should have the honor to publicly celebrate how they feel about each other and receive the same benefits that heterosexual couples have.
My family has always been about tradition. Whether it came to Christmas activates, to heirlooms, to even political views. To have a tradition, you have to start. There is really no such thing as a traditional marriage. If marriage was traditional, there would be no polygamy, communal child rearing, the use of mistresses and the use of prostitution would not exist. Those who break the laws of tradition fight to keep it and say that homosexuality is a disgrace against the traditional marriage contract. If my brother had the same rights as me, the “tradition” of marriage would still be happening, just in a different format.
Standing up to my sister with strong views never happened and I felt big doing it. My sister almost frightened me when it came to something I disagreed with. Normally I back down and just accept what she was saying and moving on. If my sister and me ever got into a disagreement, my mother or brother would step in and defend me. I felt like I needed to defend him now, just this once, even though I knew he could do it on his own.
About a month ago my brother had made a new friend, another homosexual boy that was my age named Max, who is now his current boyfriend. He wanted me to go to the club Pure with him and Max so that he could have an excuse to stay out later. He not only lied to my mom, saying we were going to a late drive in movie, but also had to try and lie about his age to get in. I love and supported my brother through his choices, but I didn’t want to be dragged into it, especially if it meant lying to my mom and sneaking him in illegally.
My sister found this situation as a chance to attack me, a weak point in my opinion. She made a clear stance that I wasn’t really supporting my brother that I only did it to get on his “good side”, I really deep down hated it and wanted him to do the “normal” thing. My sister states that she’s mourning the loss of her brother, saying that her brother’s not dead, but his future is. She wishes he could come back on the future brother she had imagined for so many years; going on a mission, getting married in the temple to a beautiful woman, and having beautiful children.
My sister still loves my brother but still wishes he would change his ways, but unlike my sister, instead of wishing he would change, I just wish he could. I know that if he could take back all the remarks made by his peers, or even his overall feelings, he would. He once told me that every birthday wishes he made since he was young, he wished he wasn’t gay. If my brother could change, he would.
My sister is naïve in her Provo bubble, not really knowing anything outside of a small state like Utah, so it’s very understandable why she feels my brother is wrong. Sure, I’ve grown up in the same home, same location, just as long as she has, but unlike her, I want to move out of it as soon as possible.
My sister and me still have opposing oppositions about my brother’s homosexuality and it still gets brought up in any conversation we have. I can fight and argue with my sister for the rest of my life; the only thing I care about is that my brother lives a happy and fulfilled life.