I had a cousin who came out of the closet only to end up on the street. Was ok, the extended family said, because he was adopted, not really part of the family. We were close, and when I was younger my folks told me he was adopted because some neighbor kid told him and upset him terribly, so if I heard it, no problems, he's still my cousin.
Last saw him when I was 14, and in later years when he did find a home (with his biological mother and a brother), and after when he was dying in a hospital, I still wasn't allowed to contact him (he took her surname, so I couldn't even look him up). Like they thought I would transform into one upon seeing him again.
Burned me up for years, if only I tried harder to find him. The thought of him wondering why I didn't visit when he was ill...
THOSE are the people who are sick, our family. Not some 13 year old thrown out to disappear, to die alone. People trying to pretend it's a lifestyle choice, a fad of some sort. They're the problem, not someone whose turmoil inside is matched only by the hate from outside.