A Deep Dive: The Journey Behind A Bee’s-Eye View from the Cloud-Line

My story, much like the vast, ever-shifting Texas sky I grew up under, has been one of sprawling horizons, unexpected, tumultuous storms, and profound, hard-won moments of clarity and radiant sunshine. I’m Brandon Cloud—known affectionately to many as simply “Bee”—a 40-year-old gay, biracial (half White, half Puerto Rican) man currently forging a life defined by purpose, profound connection, and unapologetic authenticity in the vibrant, sometimes bewildering, city of Austin, Texas. My other nickname, “The Clobra,” actually originated in college. It’s a unique mashup: the first three letters of my last name and first name (“Clo,” “Bra”), originally used for grading purposes.

This blog, “A Bee’s-Eye View from the Cloud-Line,” is my personal space to distill the wisdom gleaned from a journey far more intricate, emotionally demanding, and ultimately, more rewarding than any simple map could illustrate. It is a chronicle of survival, growth, and the unwavering pursuit of a self that was, for a long time, forced into the shadows.

The Fractured Dawn: A Childhood Shaped by Unseen Wounds (1984-1998)

My life began in Odessa, Texas, in 1984, a place of stark, wide-open spaces and deeply ingrained, often rigid, traditions. From my earliest conscious memories, my existence felt, from the perspective of some in my family, inherently burdened and out of place. My very genesis was shrouded in a complicated and painful truth: my mother was a victim of sexual assault, and I was the unwitting product of that violation. The circumstances were chilling in their casual cruelty: my biological father, who was married to my aunt at the time, slipped into her bed and, as the hushed, painful family narrative goes, had his way with her. The devastating reality, as my mother later confided, was that she didn’t say no. In that moment of profound vulnerability and terror, her agency, her very ability to consent or resist, was utterly stripped away. She was trapped, emotionally and physically. When my aunt, his unsuspecting wife, eventually uncovered the truth, her reaction, though understandable in its raw pain, was tragically misdirected. She could not, or would not, believe that my mother hadn’t slept with her husband on purpose, failing completely to grasp the nuanced reality of coercion, fear, and the immense power dynamics at play in such a violation. This heartbreaking inability to comprehend fractured the family landscape, causing a deep, irreparable divide that tore at the very fabric of our familial connections and cast a long shadow over my early years. And so, from the very moment of my conception, I arrived into a world already burdened by inherent conflict, deeply rooted misunderstanding, and a profound sense of my own uninvited existence. My mother, bless her brave, wounded heart, navigated these impossible circumstances and loved me the best she could, but it was an incredibly hard situation for her to manage—a constant, painful reminder of a traumatic event that had scarred her deeply. I was, in essence, a living embodiment of a secret, a testament to a transgression, and that reality, though largely unspoken, subtly permeated the early atmosphere of my life.

Adding to this already complex foundation was the profound instability brought by my stepfather’s escalating alcohol addiction during my formative early childhood. His battle with this insidious disease transformed him from a complicated figure into an unpredictable, terrifying monster. During this period, he was often verbally and physically abusive towards me. I carry so many vivid, visceral, and chillingly clear memories of those years: being abruptly pulled out of bed in the middle of the night, my small body cold and terrified, beaten for reasons I couldn’t comprehend or for transgressions I couldn’t recall. The sheer randomness of his rages, the unpredictable eruption of violence, created a constant state of hypervigilance. My mother, working demanding night shifts running her natural gas company in West Texas, was tragically often absent during these dark hours, leaving me alone to face his escalating intoxication and unchecked brutality. This terrifying reality persisted, a daily torment, until I was about 9 years old. The emotional and physical pain became my constant companions, shaping my understanding of safety and trust. The atmosphere in our home was perpetually charged with fear, ready to erupt like a sudden storm.

Compounding these deep personal wounds was the bitter irony of my biological family’s significant financial standing and pervasive influence. My entire family was, by any measure, well-off, even affluent. My grandparents had meticulously built a very large, formidable real estate empire in West Texas, accumulating substantial wealth and power within the region. My mother, a shrewd and independent businesswoman, invested wisely and eventually owned a substantial amount of natural gas rights before the oil boom in West Texas, securing her own considerable fortune. The material resources were undeniably there; financial security was abundant. But that money and influence, that familial scaffolding of privilege, never truly trickled down to me in the forms that mattered most—not the emotional safety, the unconditional validation, the deep sense of belonging, or the unwavering support that financial security often provides. Why? Because of the intersecting layers of who and what I was, qualities my conservative, religious family deemed fundamentally flawed and unacceptable. Being biracial (half white and half Puerto Rican) in a predominantly white, culturally rigid, conservative environment; being gay in a very conservative religious household that unequivocally condemned my identity as a sin and a moral failing; and being the product of sexual assault—these were the invisible walls, the profound prejudices that prevented that emotional and practical support from truly reaching me. This pervasive lack of acceptance, the systematic invalidation of my very being, created profound and lasting trauma, a deep, persistent wound that, even now, after years of dedicated therapy, requires continuous, conscious work to understand and integrate into my whole self.

The Crucible of Adolescence: Outed, Abandoned, and Forged Anew (1998-2001)

Around age 14, my family made a geographical shift, moving to Rising Star, Texas, an even smaller, more insular community where social norms were even more tightly enforced. My burgeoning gay identity, invisible and terrifyingly “evil” in that deeply religious environment, became an unbearable secret, a crushing weight that stifled my spirit. Desperate for understanding, for connection, and for any glimmer of normalcy, I sought refuge in the nascent, untamed frontier of the internet. In the mid-90s, before social media’s pervasive influence, IRC chat rooms became my clandestine escape, my secret, virtual sanctuary. I wasn’t looking for romance or sex; I was a terrified, lonely, and deeply confused teenager seeking information, seeking validation—trying to understand if what I felt truly meant I was housing a demon, or if there were actually other people in the world who simply loved differently.

This fragile exploration, however, was not a secret garden; its walls were porous, and its perceived anonymity, for a naive teenager, proved to be a dangerous illusion. One day, my meticulously constructed, fragile world crumbled into dust. My very religious grandparents discovered my IRC chat logs. The profound shock, the raw anger, and the heartbreaking disappointment in their eyes are moments seared into my memory, a betrayal that reverberated through my entire being. Their response, swift and devastating, was, in their minds, an act of divine love and a desperate need to “save” my eternal soul. I was immediately, without discussion or understanding, sent away to a “pray the gay away” camp—a cruel, misguided, and deeply harmful attempt to “cure” me of my inherent nature. This was not a place of healing or compassionate guidance; it was a psychological and spiritual assault. And during this profoundly vulnerable and terrifying time, when I was desperate for guidance and safety, I was sexually assaulted by one of the mentors at that camp. The trauma was immense—a shattering of trust, a profound emotional wound, and a deep sense of betrayal by institutions and individuals I was told to trust implicitly, who claimed to be acting out of divine love. The scars from this experience, including the inability to sleep without a TV on as a constant background hum, are still present reminders of that unspeakable violation.

Inevitably, my inherent gay identity remained unchanged. My authentic self, the very core of who I was, proved resilient, unmoved by prayers or psychological torment. For my grandparents, this stubborn persistence of my true identity was an unbearable failure, a profound disappointment, and, in their eyes, a definitive sign of my supposed spiritual corruption. The consequence was brutal and swift: at the tender age of 16, they summarily kicked me out of the house. This act of familial abandonment plunged me into a dark period of profound depression and, at times, led to desperate thoughts of ending my life. I became adept at couch surfing, moving between friends’ homes, living precariously, never truly feeling secure or belonging. My resilience, however, proved stronger. Despite the chaos and emotional devastation, I leveraged my “nerd” background from homeschooling to relentlessly pursue my education and miraculously graduate high school early. The profound rupture with my biological family began then, a painful chasm that persists to this day, a part of my history I rarely navigate directly.

Forging a New Path: Education, Body, Career, and the Slow Ascent to Healing (2001-2022)

At 17, I made a desperate, life-altering leap: I moved to Austin, Texas, a city that, with its progressive, accepting atmosphere, became my sanctuary. It was a profound contrast to the small town I had left, offering a sense of freedom and possibility I had never known. I began college at the University of Texas, putting myself through school by working multiple jobs—from waiting tables to administrative roles—funding every credit hour. This era was defined by fierce self-reliance, rigorous discipline, and an unwavering determination to forge my own path, independent of the past. I relentlessly pursued my education, driven by a deep hunger for knowledge and a desperate need to build a future defined by my own terms.

It was also during this first year of college in Austin that I confronted another deeply personal struggle: my weight. At my heaviest, at age 16, I weighed 428 pounds. This physical burden compounded my feelings of otherness and isolation. In a pivotal decision for my health and well-being, I underwent Gastric Bypass surgery during my first year of college. The weight loss was remarkably rapid, a dramatic transformation that reshaped my physical self. This rapid change, however, led to another challenge: I eventually had to undergo skin removal surgery due to the quick nature in which I lost the weight. Juggling a full load of college classes, working multiple jobs, and undergoing significant body transformations (often seldom eating, either due to lack of funds or no time, which, paired with never being hungry from the surgery, further accelerated my weight loss) was an immense undertaking. It was a testament to my physical and mental resilience, a period of profound re-creation of myself.

I earned my Master of Science in Nursing (MSN) in 2008, a pivotal step into the demanding world of healthcare, specializing in nursing administration. After graduating, I moved to Dallas, living there from 2008 to 2015. During this period, I continued my professional ascent and further refined my skills, completing my MBA at the University of Texas in Arlington. This second master’s degree was a strategic move, equipping me with comprehensive business acumen and a broader understanding of organizational dynamics, preparing me for leadership roles. I even had a stint writing for Huffington Post during this time, a testament to my burgeoning voice and desire for broader expression.

My personal life, however, also navigated a prolonged, often painful, storm during these years. I was in a long-term, deeply unhealthy relationship that began at age 18 and stretched until I was 32. This partnership was marred by multitudes of infidelity, constant psychological and verbal abuse, and terrifying periods of actual physical violence, fueled by his severe alcohol addiction and unresolved personal issues. The sheer emotional drain of this cycle, the erosion of trust, and the constant justification of unacceptable behavior were immense. Leaving that relationship, even though it meant stepping into the daunting reality of truly “dating” for the first time in my early 30s, was an act of profound self-preservation and liberation. It was a harrowing, but necessary, break that marked a turning point in my adult life.

Post-breakup, I embraced a “mobile lifestyle,” a deliberate choice to experience new environments and challenge my comfort zones. I began working as a Regional Manager for a major nursing home company, which involved extensive travel and living out of an RV. This period of professional and personal transition eventually led me to move to Monahans, Texas, in 2018, and then, finally, to Abilene, Texas, in 2020, as the world plunged into the COVID-19 pandemic.

Then came the starkest reality of all: in 2022, I received a Stage 2 throat cancer diagnosis. This profound health battle, and the arduous journey through radiation and (currently ongoing oral) chemotherapy, irrevocably shifted my perspective. It was a brutal confrontation with my own mortality, underscoring life’s precious brevity and its unpredictable nature. This forced a radical re-prioritization, propelling me to prioritize experiences, self-care, and true connection over professional ambition or financial accumulation alone. (Cancer, unfortunately, runs in my family; my Uncle David passed from prostate cancer at 40, and my great-grandmother battled lung cancer.) My body, also profoundly impacted by losing my sense of smell to COVID-19 in 2021 (a persistent sensory silence, though paradoxically, one that often brings peace as most smells were unpleasant to me), is a living testament to the battles fought and the resilience forged.

Present Day: A Life Illuminated by Love, Community, and Purpose (2024-Present)

Now, in 2024, my life is richly woven with profound joy, authentic bonds, and a deep sense of gratitude. The painful echoes of the past remain, part of my history, but they no longer define my present. I’m incredibly fortunate to share my life with Matthew, my amazing partner, the “blue-eyed bandit” who makes every day brighter, showing me a love so authentic, easy, and profoundly real, it feels like a dream come true. He has effortlessly integrated into my life, consistently exceeding every expectation. He’s helped me truly want to be the best version of myself, a profound inspiration that no one has ever truly sparked in me before. He brings a deep peace and clarity to my emotional landscape.

He has seamlessly woven himself into the fabric of my incredible chosen family—Shelby (my best friend and unwavering compass), Melissa (my rock since high school, who literally picked me up when I was abandoned), Keke, and Tasi (my cherished coworkers and companions who bring constant laughter and support)—who are the unwavering bedrock of my existence. Together, we’re embarking on dream trips (like our recent cross-country odyssey to California and Chicago), exploring new cities, and forging unforgettable memories, demonstrating the sheer power of shared joy.

My relationship with my biological family remains complex and largely fractured; I haven’t had contact with most of them since being kicked out. My grandfather has since passed away, while my grandmother is still alive. My biological father’s promiscuity meant I have many half-sisters, most of whom I don’t know, and a half-brother on my mother’s side. It’s a complicated lineage, but it has profoundly informed my fierce appreciation for the intentional, unconditional bonds of chosen family.

My Core Philosophy: What Defines The Clobra and His View

Through all these experiences—the trauma, the resilience, the love, the loss, the physical transformations, the constant learning—a clear, deeply personal philosophy has emerged, shaping who I am and what I choose to share:

• Resilience is a Quiet Superpower: My life has taught me that even a “cockroach” can survive anything and thrive—a defiant pride in enduring and overcoming the impossible. I am a testament to the fact that the human spirit, when pushed to its limits, can find incredible strength.
• Joy is an Act of Resistance: In a world that often tries to diminish marginalized lives and instill despair, choosing authentic happiness, embracing laughter, and cultivating inner peace is a radical political statement. It denies negativity its power.
• Authenticity is Paramount: Living genuinely, embracing all facets of my identity, and refusing to shrink for others is the only path to true, unburdened peace. It’s about shedding facades and daring to be truly seen.
• Empathy & Boundaries are Essential: My RN background instilled deep, unwavering empathy for others’ suffering, but personal trauma taught me the absolute, non-negotiable necessity of setting firm boundaries for self-preservation. You can care deeply without allowing yourself to be endlessly drained.
• The Power of Chosen Family: True kinship isn’t always dictated by blood; it’s forged in unwavering support, unconditional love, and mutual respect. These bonds are the bedrock of healing and thriving.
• A Nuanced View of Life’s Complexities: From politics to relationships, I challenge simplistic “both sides” fallacies when fundamental human rights are debated. I advocate for honesty, critical thinking, and empathy, even when the truth is uncomfortable or complex.
• Learning and Growth are Constant: I’m still learning, still growing, always seeking new insights from every experience, whether it’s through gaming, pop culture, professional endeavors, or life’s unexpected turns. This continuous evolution defines my journey.

This blog, A Bee’s-Eye View from the Cloud-Line (theclobra.com), is my unfiltered space. Here, I offer sharp insights, honest reflections, and a unique perspective on:

• Gaming: From strategic MMOs (WoW, SWTOR, FFXIV) and narrative RPGs (The Last of Us, Baldur’s Gate 3) to the nuances of PC vs. console, the brilliance of the Support role in Overwatch (which truly helped me survive the pandemic), and the unique appeal of real-life escape rooms. I explore gaming as both art and escape.
• Pop Culture: Deep dives into music icons (Mariah Carey, Lady Gaga, Adele, Alanis Morissette, Rihanna, Kelly Clarkson, Kelsea Ballerini); groundbreaking TV series (ER, The West Wing, Grey’s Anatomy, Charmed, Lost, Pose, Hacks, Designing Women, The Golden Girls, True Blood, The Walking Dead); and reality competitions (Survivor, Drag Race)—analyzing their impact, characters, and cultural significance, from their artistic merits to their problematic moments and underlying social commentaries.
• Life & Society: Candid reflections on wealth inequality, LGBTQ+ rights (including the insidious link between homophobia and misogyny, and the ongoing fight against discrimination), mental health advocacy, navigating life as a gay atheist liberal Democrat in Texas, the complexities of relationships (dating as a monogamy-centered man, the paradox of pickiness, the challenges of integrating pets), the transformative power of travel, and the profound need for self-care.

Join me here for sharp insights, honest reflections, and a unique perspective on the messy, beautiful, and profoundly resilient reality of life.