//BIOGRAPHY Raised as the only boy in a family of 7 women- a single mom, an aunt, four cousins that were more sisters than anything, and an equally fierce old-school Cajun grandmother- Brennan has always been blessed with getting the female perspective of things. What Brennan and his estrogen centric household wasn't blessed with was an abundance of money. Mama Doucet worked hard. Harder than most even. She juggled waitressing and cleaning dingy motels in Lake Charles with all the steel and nerve of a woman who'd been dealt a trying hand from the get-go. That hard nosed attitude ran rampant in the family. Everyone contributed to making ends meet, whether it was saving on laundry detergent by borrowing from neighbors or making a gallon of milk last that much longer by watering it down, the Doucet kids held down the fort while the Matriarchs brought home the checks. Bre was just a cog in that complicated machinery, one who grew accustomed to taking his orders from tough, foul mouthed women throughout his life but wasn't without his own outbursts.

It wasn't half bad, but it wasn't a walk in the park. Every girl he brought home got dissected like a dead amphibious science project on the cutting board, and god forbid the boy break some poor girl's heart. By the time high school came around, Bre' abbrasive behavior started to really land him in hot water. It wasn't so much the absence of his father that weighed heavy on him growing up, it was knowing exactly where the man lived and what he called himself that really became a source of trouble for him as he grew. Knowing your old man seemed fine living on the otherside of the country-- NYC, to be exact-- and only having a relationship with the man by hurried long distance phone calls was enough to give any boy a complex. Even with the large cast of domineering females in his family who'd mostly kept his nose clean, it was clear Brennan needed a strong male figure in his life to help him adapt. His father may not have been up for the task, but the man had an entire extended family desperate to form a bond with the boy. That male figure came in the form of his uncle Raul, who was more than happy to take Bre in on the summers to get him acquinted with the Puerto Rican-American side of Brennan's heritage. Despite his curiosity regarding the absentee father that always managed to disappear during Bre's summer visits, it didn't take long for him to start looking at Raul as the father-figure he sorely desired.

With Bre's penchant for deliquency disappearing the more stability he found in both of his families, hopes back home started to pick up regarding the prodigal son's future prospects. Considering how eager the Doucet women were to plan Brennan's future for him, it was no surprise that they helped nudge him into academic proficency that got him a few partial scholarship nods from state schools once High School ended. He'd be the next in a line of college bound Doucets, a trail blazed by his cousins. He had other plans. Instead he decided his future would be better served enlisting in the United States Army. The year was 2003 and America was preparing to invade Iraq. It's difficult to assess what posed greater peril to his health, enemy combatants or the combined wrath of the women in his family when he told them he was going to war.

The idea that he was joining the Army to find his own path quickly became a decision he started to question after joining. He'd survived living with his family as long as he had. The rest would be much easier in comparison he surmised. Instead he faced a degree of culture shock when he first enlisted at the ripe age of 18. Though he lacked the warrior-esque enthusiasm of some of his more battle hungry brothers, Bre found the professionalism needed to be a good soldier through and through, disciplined and prepared. But also scared shitless. Like most, any romantic illusions of a black & white conflict, of good guys versus bad guys was quickly dispelled after his first tour in Iraq. By the time he'd hit his third tour and seen a few of his friends come and go under various circumstances, some good some tragic, he decided he'd had his fill of military service. The military never did fit him very comfortably, but a man can be less than perfectly suited for service and still render it honorably. He'd done so and in the process found the prospect of a new calling when his unit returned from their last tour and Brennan started considering his post-military future. Dissatisfied with the idea of returning to the Doucet women in Louisana, he opted instead to head to New York after the Army close to his uncle and enroll in Columbia's journalism program.