Will Cabral jointly runs queer foodie haven, The Rear Window Restaurant in east London. He speaks of his repressed upbringing in Brazil before finally being able to express himself
As told to Charlotte Manning
RAINBOW WORLD
I have very few memories of being a kid. I suppressed a lot because I got bullied for being camp. One of my campest recollections is of going to my auntie’s house at Christmas. She was rather fabulous and had a beautiful house with a pool by the beach. I would sit by the pool wearing my favourite white polo shirt which was a little too big for me. I would stretch it with my legs until it looked like a dress and parade around impersonating my auntie to make all my family laugh.
Another prominent childhood memory is when I first saw two boys holding hands. At that moment, something in me changed. It was previously unfathomable, and the idea that this could ever be a possibility left me feeling hopeful that one day that could be me. Fast-forward 10 years, and I was holding hands with my first boyfriend in Santa Catarina, South Brazil. l told my mum I was away for ‘work’ while I travelled 12 hours on the bus to him. After leaving a bar in the early hours of the morning, the realisation we were holding hands gave me the utmost joy.
There is a certain nostalgia when I look back on those simple moments. The gay community has more visibility today compared to during my childhood. However, more visibility must be carved for the trans community and other queer intersectionalities that are less widely recognised and supported.
Moving to the UK alone at 19 gave me a great sense of freedom. I had dreamt of living in London — it always had great connotations for me as a queer person. I really felt seen. I remember going to Heaven for the first time and feeling overwhelmed by my first proper ‘gay experience’. I was not very confident, but seeing such a plethora of boys kissing and freely showing intimacy without feeling ashamed of their sexuality encouraged me to accept myself.
Self-acceptance has not been easy. Trying to get rid of the shame around being gay and loving myself was something I struggled with. I felt unworthy of love growing up. I felt loved by my family, but they weren’t vocal about it. When my first boyfriend in the UK told me he loved me, I froze. I just said, “Shall we go for a run?” and I just ran — physically and metaphorically. He kept up for a bit and then stopped — and I kept on runnin
