By Jimmy Van Bramer

Three weeks ago I announced that I was withdrawing from the race for Queens Borough President. My phone lit up when the story broke, and I sat and cried in my living room, moved by hundreds of messages of concern and support. I also grieved the loss of a dream I’d long held to lead the borough I was born in.

Many have asked how I could leave a race when the prospect of victory looked achievable. Let me explain.

Growing up a closeted gay kid in Astoria in the 1970s in a working poor family, hobbled by an alcoholic father and step-father, I learned early on to question my value and self worth.

I heard people call us “white trash” and those words ripped right into me. My mom, despite all these challenges and more, was our bright light. She worked three jobs at times, not counting being mom to us kids. When I finally came out to my mom when I was 19, all she said was, “You are my son. I love you. And I always will.”

I started to follow current events from a young age because my mom bought the Daily News every day and I would read it cover to cover starting from the sports section. My dad, now long separated from my mom, was a union leader, and my stepdad was a janitor, cleaning bathrooms and classrooms for a living. I knew most people had more than us and I knew that was unfair.

I wanted to fight for the place I grew up in and for families like mine. When I beat the machine in 2009 I achieved the biggest goal of my life, getting elected as an openly gay man in the place I loved the most.

I’ve loved so much about serving my community in elected office. But I’d be lying if I said it hadn’t changed in the last ten years.

Helping people is a privilege, as is building new schools and helping to lead this great city of ours.

But it is also a burden. The stress and pressure is enormous, quality of life takes a hit, and people have become increasingly vicious toward public officials on social media. Most people appreciate the sacrifice you make and time you give up being with your family, but with each passing day you can find yourself asking if the trade off is worth it.

I turned 50 last year and my mom just turned 80. She is one tough lady and is fighting getting older with the best of them. But as I’ve gotten older, and I’ve seen her battle the effects of aging, I have found myself increasingly thinking about things that rarely get associated with politics and elected officials: Happiness, wellness, mental health, peace, love, memory and decency.

A few months back, mom took a nasty fall in the street while walking around Astoria. It was a scary time for all of us, but, typical of this unbelievably strong woman, she bounced back from something that could have been fatal. I’ve spent a lot more time with her this year, taking any time I could find in the day, taking her breakfast at her favorite cafe or just sitting with her. Not even always talking. Just sitting, and being together.

It has been in these moments that I’ve thought about whether or not I still wanted the chase, the battles and the adrenalin of politics. I confronted an inconvenient truth: I wanted more time for family while it counts the most, and more time being healthy and happy.

A couple of months ago I started therapy again, knowing I needed to work with someone to better understand the battle that was raging in my head, a battle for my soul that had no clear winner.

There were moments when I knew this race for Queens Borough President wasn’t right for me, not now anyway. But It was so hard to give it up.

I knew my priorities were changing, but I couldn’t accept it.

We made a video tribute to my mom for her 80th birthday. I spent hours looking at thousands of still photos of her life and old videos. She was never famous or powerful or important in the ways that most people understand those terms. She was a cashier at local supermarkets. She babysat for others with more money than us. She was a meat wrapper in a freezer in Key Food.

But what did those photos show? She loved her kids. She did all she could to make our lives happy — birthday parties, Met games, lazy summer days at Astoria pool and just being surrounded by the ones she loved the most.

I love politics and this is not an exit, but right now I need those moments more than ever.

Councilmember Jimmy Van Bramer represents District 26 in Western Queens. He exited the race for Queens borough president in January.