I’m Henry on the right, with my brother Rocky on the left. Our household told us that being gay was a sickness and that gays were defective. I suffered at the hands of shrinks, priests, and my mother trying to change me. The one person who made all that truly bearable was my little brother, Rocky. Growing up, I knew he was gay before I knew I was. And he always supported me with no judgments. He once cheered me up by performing “I’m Every Woman” by Chaka Khan in my mother’s platform shoes. We were very different as boys. Rocky liked perfume, makeup, and glamour, whereas I liked sweaty men, rock music, and leather. We still like the same things now.
