Are you gay.

I remember when I was growing up in Somerset. The weekends were free, and though there wasn’t a huge amount on offer for kids to do, we’d find something. Often, my brother and I would walk into town, stopping at McDonalds or we’d be lazy and waiting for the hourly bus to take us five minutes down the road. 

At that point, I didn’t know who I was truly. Instead, it was Dec and me against the world. Fearless but shy, confident and conforming, different yet nondescript.

On Saturdays, I’d spend my time going to dance classes whilst he’d play football before we’d spend time together. For a lot of my youth, he was often the only person I needed to spend time with. I’d latch onto him to make up for my own lack of social network. 

And then that day, walking through the town centre. 

A chorus of boys, all of us around eleven- or twelve-years-old trailed us. Like paparazzi to a celebrity, or an insistent journalist, the question of my sexuality was thrown like an insult – "Are you gay?" – as if being anything other than 'straight' was the most offensive crime. Slowly our silence as we walked away led to their boredom, and they dissipated.

That was until I felt brave – the distance between us and the chorus becoming a safe zone. I shouted something that instantly I wished I could take back. 

“Well done,” I said, “you can throw insults.”

It was the first time I had consciously stood up tall about myself. Yes, it was cowardly in truth, but I retaliated, challenging their perceptions.

I thought I had got away with my aggravating slur. I instantly hoped that no one other than my twin heard me. And yet, facing back to where we had just come from, time stopped as the ring leader turned around to the tune of encouragement from the gang. 

It might not be the only time, but perhaps the first, that someone stepped in the way. To put themselves between perceived danger and myself. My brother took the punches as we were swallowed into the middle of the gang.

In truth, it is shaped me in so many ways that at the time I didn’t realise. It taught me that some people yearn for no education to develop their opinions. They are blind to argument. 

I never thanked my brother for what he did that day. I took his actions then, and continue to do so, for granted. 

Last week, he started a new job. After a rigorous training course, he’ll qualify. And in his first week he called me to give me an update. 

“I’m going to be part of the LGBT+ liaison team.”

I'm so proud that my twin brother, to this day, is still my biggest straight ally.