June is a month of celebration, pride festivals, and parties for our LGBTQ+ community and allies.
Although I’ve seen plenty of gay parades, surprisingly, I’ve never marched in one. The terror of so many people staring at me seems overwhelming. I am perfectly fine cheering for each of them as loudly and proudly as I can from the sidelines. It’s never lost on me while watching everyone on the floats and marching how brave each and every gay person out there is. The entire day can be uplifting for all of us as we watch the long procession of celebratory men and women dancing on colorful, decorated floats; see those who serve in public office, the military, and law enforcement marching side by side; and enjoy festivals with great music, great food, and endless exhibitors.
Pride is not just about flags, parades, or celebration; it is also about visibility for people whom society still judges, targets, or tells to hide who they are. But visibility does not begin on a parade route.
Long before a person waves a rainbow flag or marches down a city street, there is usually a much quieter and far more personal moment. For most of us, Pride starts with the decision to tell someone the truth about who we are. It begins in living rooms, at kitchen tables, in church parking lots, over the phone with a friend, or during an uncomfortable conversation with a coworker. The courage celebrated during Pride Month is the same courage that millions of LGBTQ+ people draw on every time they come out.
There are many stories about how emotional and traumatic coming out can be. For almost all gay people, it takes weeks, months, or even years to develop a plan for what we’re going to say to our parents, siblings, coworkers, friends, or pastor. But coming out is not a one-time event. It happens repeatedly throughout our lives.
The rush of emotions we process can be overwhelming. When someone innocently asks me, a gay man, “What does your wife do for a living?” I feel a pang of panic in my chest. In the straight world, this is a harmless question, but in the gay world, it sets off a flood of emotions—acceptance, rejection, judgment, fear, shame, embarrassment—all in a split second as we grapple with the internal questions: Is this person friend or foe? Who else is listening? Can I trust this person? What impact will the truth have on me? Is it worth the vulnerability?
In that second, it feels like a life-or-death question, and in some instances, it just may be. Answer wrong, and all your worst nightmares may come true. Even the most comfortable gay person who has been out for years may still struggle in a less familiar environment.
In my novel, Diego’s Secret, I explore the gut-wrenching internal struggle that can accompany coming out, even with the people we love and trust most.
So, as we float, dance, and sing through this amazing month of June, let us celebrate and remember what it took to get each one of us here.
Warmly
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I’ll never forget my mother’s immediate response when I actually told her I was gay though everyone knew. She marched me to me bedroom and locked the door from the hallway. Then she went about her business. What she seemed to forget was that every bedroom had its own exterior door that led out to the pool. A couple hours passed when she walked to the pools edge and said. “It was more symbolic than anything. We just want to keep you safe. So don’t think you out smarted me. I’ve known you are gay before you were out of diapers”. An amazing woman my best friend and biggest and loudest cheerleader. Unfortunately she passed 2.5 weeks ago.
Hi Doug, I love your story of you and your mom. I felt her love in your words. I am so very sorry for your loss. Sending you hugs my friend.