Shaun Hutchinson starts this unflinching memoir with a content warning because his story indeed includes some stuff that’s hard to read, including self-harm and attempted suicide. At a critical moment later in the book he tells us: “Your well-being is more important than a story,” to further warn the reader about what’s about to happen. Right up front with the content warning the author takes himself to task, finishing his thought with the assertion that “no one will ever hate that arrogant little prick more than he hated himself.” This is both heart-breaking and wrong-headed. I didn’t hate the angry, depressed teenager in this book. How could I? I’ve raised two teenagers, and I’ve been a teenager. The best of them is none too wonderful. I didn’t hate him, I wept for him, and for the undiagnosed depression that made him miserable and almost destroyed his life.
The most shocking thing about the memoir, with its wry wit and relentless, clear narrative, is that it was written by someone young enough to be my son. At the moment when Hutchinson experienced the struggles and pain of his teen years laid out in this tale, my partner and I were struggling to adopt children. I came out in college twenty years before Shaun Hutchinson did, and I missed seeing the British film “A Beautiful Thing” in theaters when he saw it in 1996 because, at 40, I had just become a father and therefore had given up anything like a social life. When I finally saw “A Beautiful Thing,” many years later, I, too, was overwhelmed by its simple, powerful depiction of love and acceptance (not to mention Mama Cass’s amazing songs that will forever be linked with this film in my brain).
The shock of Shaun’s story compared to my own lay first in the realization that, in the mid-1990s, it was every bit as hard to come out as it was in the mid-1970s – maybe even harder. By the mid-90s, everyone was aware – painfully aware – of the existence of gay people in society. So, as a teenager, the chances of being “spotted” and bullied or taunted before you were ready to deal with it were far greater than when I was a teenager and could pass unnoticed. I had also forgotten that our beloved Bill-the-liberal Clinton was responsible for both Don’t-ask-don’t-tell, and the Defense of Marriage Act. Indeed, there was so little for a gay teen to experience in the 1970s, I managed to embrace “The Boys in the Band” without ever consciously absorbing any of the misery and unhappiness of its characters. By contrast, Shaun Hutchinson saw stereotypes, in-your-face gay pride images, and AIDS as proof that being gay was the worst fate a boy could suffer.
I had no idea.
But here’s the important thing: I did not suffer from clinical depression. I was blessed with a rosy, obliviously optimistic outlook on life, in spite of being an awkward nerd, and despite horrific family trauma in my adolescent years. I was never depressed, and that’s what kept me anchored during the long, painful, coming-out process of the 1970s. I loved myself as much as Shaun hated himself.
So, Hutchinson’s memoir is as much about the destructive effects of depression as it is about the struggles of coming out. It is a response to the blandly affirming notion of “it gets better,” which only works if you can see a future for yourself, if you love yourself enough to believe in a future. It made my heart bleed for the author, realizing that there was nothing he could do about his pain until it became too much to bear, and finally became visible to the people around him who loved him, not knowing anything of his depression.
I loved this book, although it hurt to read it. It is important, because it affirms, in the end, that being gay is not the worst fate a person can suffer; but having untreated depression is. I have really enjoyed Sean’s writing before having read his memoir, and now that I understand where he comes from as a writer, I appreciate his gift even more.
Download the free Kindle app and start reading Kindle books instantly on your smartphone, tablet, or computer - no Kindle device required.
Read instantly on your browser with Kindle for Web.
Using your mobile phone camera - scan the code below and download the Kindle app.
Loading your book clubs
There was a problem loading your book clubs. Please try again.
Not in a club? Learn more
Join or create book clubs
Choose books together
Track your books
Bring your club to Amazon Book Clubs, start a new book club and invite your friends to join, or find a club that’s right for you for free.
Add a debit or credit card to save time when you check out
Convenient and secure with 2 clicks. Add your card
Customers who bought this item also bought
Page 1 of 1 Start overPage 1 of 1
About the author
Follow authors to get new release updates, plus improved recommendations.
Reviews with images
Amazing. The audio was the perfect medium for this.
Warning, spoilersOh Shaun. I want to hug you so much. This audio book (read by the author) was so hard to listen to, and so worth the listen. Hutchinson isn't great at differentiating voices, but that is practically my only criticism.It gets better. It does. But it doesn't get better quickly, or overnight. You learn different ways to cope and new ways to look at situations. Brave Face tells it just like it is. Shaun is only six years older than me so we share some of the same memories of growing up in the 1990s - rampant homophobia, fear of AIDS, little understanding of what it means to be lgbtqia or outside of average. Just like Shaun, I used to cut myself to release the pain inside. I'm not queer, so I can't truly understand the fear of being left behind in happiness. I had similar feelings when I became a single parent (no one could ever love me because of this thing I have no control over [single mom : being queer] - is that okay to compare?) and it took me years to be able to see my worth, regardless of "my failures" at the perfect happy life. Shaun struggled with that too, so much. And depression grabbed hold of his (and my) doubts and drove the car for a while. Luckily, we both made it out alive and are here to say that YES. It does, it does, it does, get better.Menatal health is the main theme of this book. Regardless of your sexuality, your mental health is #1. There were so many times I wanted to grab young Shaun and shake him. "Don't doubt yourself so much! Stop being so hard on yourself! You are worth it! You deserve all the love!" but I knew that at 19, I wouldn't have listened to some 35 year old adult telling me about the future. You have to live through life yourself and learn it all from scratch. No one can be told how it is, we all have to just experience it on our own.I see that my review is a bit tl;dr and more about me than the book. 🤦♀ Sorry. This is the kind of book that you just have to put yourself in his shoes. Even though I'm not gay, I could relate to so much of what Shaun went through. This is an incredibly powerful book. Thank you for writing it, Shaun David Hutchinson.
Top reviews from other countries
James Johnson
A book about learning and becoming
Reviewed in Germany on November 21, 2019
