Jeff Brutlag

I recently applied to become a Twitch Ambassador. I had applied once before in previous years, but looking back, I don’t think I was quite ready for it. The person I wanted to be on Twitch was buried under piles of insecurity and anxiety, and I wrote what I thought they wanted to hear instead of what I felt in my heart. This time around, I told them just how much Twitch has changed my life, in enough detail for them to feel how important this is, to me.

I fully believe I’m ready for it now, and to tell you why, I’ll have to take you back to the beginning of this journey. 

I heard of Twitch in 2013 from a Youtube vlogger named Scott Tumilty, who used Twitch to stream video games every Monday while eating garlic bread, and he called this weekly live stream “Garlic Bread Mondays.” He’d eat garlic bread, people in chat would share pictures of their garlic bread, and it became a lighthearted space to enjoy a life-long hobby with new people. It was my little post-class treat while I was in university, and the more I watched, the more streaming seemed like my vibe. While it was an idea I wanted to pursue as soon as possible, I didn’t have the tech required, despite trying so very hard with my 2009 MacBook Pro. It produced less of a live gaming stream, and more of a live gaming PowerPoint presentation. Love that idea, but it needed an entirely different execution.

Fast forward to 2015, when I had saved up enough money from a 40-hour per week digital marketing internship plus a part-time job at a local ice cream shop to buy a PS4. I had discovered beforehand that it has the ability to stream directly to Twitch from the console, which led to some daydreams of starting up my channel during downtime at the ice cream shop. However, with about 60 hours of work per week, there was no room for configuring a Twitch channel. I honestly don’t even remember what I did on my days off during the 6 months of 60-hour work weeks, because those days were for “no think, only exist.”

It wasn’t until around February of 2017 that I did my first successful Twitch stream, which was around the same time I started falling out of love with the Youtube content creation cycle. I had been in it for about 4 years, and though I had fun brainstorming queer and/or nerdy topics to film, it wasn’t sparking the joy that I wanted from it, at the time. It was missing an element of connection I was struggling to find through content creation, something that felt like I was more than just pixels and ideas. Even though there were people who watched every single upload, I didn’t feel entertaining.

I remember sitting on my bed at around 8 or 9pm playing Resident Evil 7: Biohazard for the first time, when I realized that I was too scared to go on any longer. Most horror games I had played up until that point were with a friend in the room, so with a game as scary as that one, it felt a little nerve wracking. I had a Playstation Camera because I knew I’d get to streaming eventually, and when I connected the dots on how I could feel less alone, I sent a text to my friend Alyssa (who had been my gaming buddy through many horror game playthroughs), and got that very first stream started. She chatted with me the whole time, another friend popped in, I think a new viewer or two swung by, and it was just the kind of good time I was looking for.

I tried a couple more streams here and there in the following weeks, and once I knew that I could keep having fun with it, I planned a stream of Telltale’s The Walking Dead on April 12th , and started streaming consistently from that day forward. I eventually grabbed an external capture card so I could also stream games from my Wii U, plugging it into my MacBook Air (yes, a MacBook Air), sitting on a folding chair next to my bed with a $60 Blue Snoball microphone and the built in Facetime cam on my laptop. It started as a weekly thing, eventually becoming 2-3 times per week, and then I loved the feeling of streaming enough to where I did it whenever I had time.

Knowing I could hit the “Start Streaming” button and connect with other people who like the games I play, or just need a queer space to chill in, really felt like I found a purpose. I considered it the silkiest frosting on the richest cake if people even found me, some gay nerd they stumbled upon, to be entertaining. That intersection of creating community and good entertainment is still the main goal of the stream, even to this day.

It became a part of my day that got me out of bed, even when I was going through the hardest time of my life. Not only did I get laid off from my social media manager position at a men’s underwear company shortly after streaming consistently, but just weeks later, my mom’s stage 4 breast cancer became resistant to chemotherapy, putting her into hospice. I was still living with her at the time, and because of how much extra care she needed, time and emotional availability to even consider applying for more jobs became so limited, even after my we hired caretakers. My mom wasn’t the hugest fan of the idea (not that I could blame her), so toward the beginning, it felt like I was still the main caretaker, and the ones we paid for were very expensive guests. I often felt too guilty to even go out to dinner with a friend, despite my brother and sister-in-law urging me to take a break from constantly steeping in a reality we hoped would never come.

8 years after her diagnosis, just 25 years into my own life, I was watching my hero fade away in real time. Even when her oncologist told us that there wasn’t much more she could do to treat her, my mom was the one who held it together better than my brother, aunt, and I. In the parking lot of the hospital, she told us in the mom voice that we were going to make it through this, one way or another. I’m sure she thought about how that day would go from the moment she knew her time was limited, but the strength she showed just minutes after that devastating news is a strength I hope to have, some day. 

It’s a strength Twitch is helping me discover. The more I put my heart and soul into my channel, the more I feel that strength crystalizing, and see the way it’s brightening the space around me.

What always hurts the most when I think back on memories of my mom is that she was just 58 when she passed. She was insistent on keeping her job through every stage of her cancer journey, and always anxious that any little mistake, or perception that she didn’t go the extra mile, could cost her that job. She had plenty of paid time off she could use to take one of the handful of trips she still wanted to go on, but she wanted to save them for particularly rainy days in her cancer journey. Despite wanting to, she also refused to take an early retirement, not for lack of wanting to, because she knew there was a penalty for retiring before a specific age, at her job. I was always optimistic for her that she would at least get to the official retirement. Whether that kept her head up or not, she always did find an air of levity about her job, even when the chemo was zapping the energy out of her. Optimism must have been one hell of a drug, even when it felt like reckless optimism, because I still don’t know how she managed to seem okay, most days.

Top all that stress on top of receiving treatment with exhausting side effects, it was really all she could do day-to-day to work, keep her house clean, and find time to see family and friends between evenings of watching her favorite movies and TV shows (Sex and the City was a regular showing in the living room). She wanted to travel more, see more concerts, and make more memories with those she loved, and by the time she started chemotherapy, she could only keep up with a work and home care schedule before laying on the couch was less of a want, and more of a need. She always did her best to see a friend or some family over the weekend, given the chemo didn’t keep her on the couch. 

The more I grow up, the more I’m becoming my mother, when it comes to work ethic. I would have worked full time and did Twitch streaming work full-time until streaming could pay the bills, despite knowing the sacrifices it would take. Knowing I had a real shot at success with the inheritance from her passing was incredibly tempting. I struggled with guilt around using it all as an investment into a career in livestreaming/content creation and writing, but I kept thinking about how much she missed out on by not making more time for herself, when she still could. I was unemployed, so my schedule was free. The dream was always to put full-time effort into creating entertainment, and Twitch was scratching the itch I had to entertain a live audience. If I was going to take a shot at it becoming a career, that was the time.

The stars had shifted into perfect alignment, even if it was due to the weight of my mom’s passing.

At the end of the day, she wanted me to be happy. Being a gay nerd on the internet for a live audience makes me happy. If she knew it could be a career, and she were still around, I know a lot of you would have met her in my Twitch chat.

Since starting that full-time content creation journey, I can’t possibly think about doing anything else, right now. I have big goals, and enough passion to manifest them. I have ideas I have yet to fully realize, and when the time comes, I know they’ll make waves. Twitch brought me the confidence to even attempt to make these ideas a reality. In becoming a Twitch Ambassador, I know I could pay it forward by championing what it means to find community through the platform.

Twitch was the source of light during the darkest era of my life. It taught me that I’m good with people, and can even entertain them for a few hours at a time. Twitch helped me discover the fierce gay nerd with chill vibes that I always wanted people to see. With every stream I do, my goal is to help people forget their worries, if even just for a minute. I want people to know about Twitch because it’s entertainment and community so beautifully woven together, creating a space that feels like going to your favorite coffee shop mixed with a warm, inviting gaming lounge. It took about 5 years of streaming to realize that this was always the POV for my channel.

And that, gorgeous reader, is the origin story of The Bru-Latté.

When you’re at twitch.tv/JeffBrutlag, you’re at The Bru-Latté, a café on the internet curating all things magical, kooky, and spooky. We stream a handful of fantasy games, some of the weirdest games you’ve ever seen, and some of the scariest games you’ve ever seen. No matter what we’re doing, the focus is always on embracing who you are, and challenging ourselves to be brave enough to seek the joy we deserve. Growth doesn’t frequent comfort zones, and learning to love ourselves isn’t always a comfortable experience. While I want people to feel comfortable in my space, I always emphasize that it’s so much easier to find joy in more parts of your life when you’re brave enough to chase it. While some people call my channel a “cozy” space, I’d describe it more as “uplifting.”

The Bru-Latté has the potential to go even further than I can imagine. I want it to show why gaming has been a cornerstone of my life since I was 5 years old. It’s a stage to display my passion for storytelling, not just through video games, but in how a good story can excite the mind and body, even if that means you cry a little. I want it to be a reminder that we all have a unique story about who we are, and that alone is exceptionally beautiful. My hope is that it’s a place that reminds everyone that some of us might be at the most tumultuous part of that story, meaning a bit of kindness can always go a long way.

Can you imagine how stunning a physical space like this would be? Where I can connect with the people that resonate with the vibe, all while having great coffee and tasty treats? I can dream, and at this point, that dream feels HUGE.

It sounds redundant after the journey I just took you on, but I should say it in plain text: Twitch is important to me. Without it, I truly don’t know how I would have had this clear of a vision for my professional life. It’s taught me more about myself than my two ice cream shop jobs, a digital marketing internship, and a social media manager position did, combined. It’s given me the confidence to unapologetically chase my dreams, both in live entertainment, and in the stories I share. I’ve had a fair amount of struggles since starting, but each struggle has contributed to the Sailor Moon-esque transformation into the magical, kooky, and spooky owner of a café on the internet I always wanted to be.

I’m more me than I ever have been, and Twitch was a huge part of starting to love this version of myself. That, to me, is the beating heart of Twitch: a passion for showing the world what you’re good at, especially if you’re good at having a good time. Twitch is a place where you can reach people who share the same lust for life, and that can turn into some of the best streams you’ll ever watch. Chatting with the people that stop by is my favorite part of streaming, because it’s a connection that can span across time zones, and that’s why I’ve been so thrilled to do this since April of 2017.

Twitch gave me a home when I was crushed by the weight of my own falling apart. I want to pay that forward by showing people that, if you give it a good chance, this platform can give you the strength to crawl out from the rubble and build a new one. If anything, it’s an entertaining distraction from that pile of laundry that’s getting harder to ignore, and it’s always good to take breaks when you’re taking care of the place you call home.