Pride Month starts today and why it matters to me.
I didn't come out to a soul until I was 51. Not because I didn't know but because it was a part of me I squashed down. I came out as Queer because the label gave me room to breathe after years of telling myself I was bi but never fully embracing it. I'm honestly still unsure whether I was protecting myself because it felt "safer" to believe a lie or if there was a kernel of truth in it. But since coming out, the "gay part" of me has been the loudest by leaps and bounds.
The real me finally getting sunlight or some kind of Queer Rumspringa after years of repression? Possibly both. What I do know is this: I would have figured it out a lot sooner if I’d lived in a world that didn't fear difference.
I'm not great at writing these sorts of personal posts, but I’ve felt especially introspective after just losing a childhood friend. The second in the past year. One was gay, but still neither knew this part of me until the very end. And that’s not enough.
So here’s to Pride, whether you came out at 14 or 94. Love to all of you, and a knowing wink to the ones who didn’t take the direct road to their truth. Not late. Not broken. Not alone.