Okay, I said I'd write something, so it might as well be now.
I've never been to a Pride. I've always wanted to go, but I often feel like my presence won't be appropriate there. Like I'm not "queer" enough. And a lot of this comes from my past. As a gentle reminder, this wasn't any one particular thing's fault. It was a product of being talented and being shoved into the limelight and wanting to use my talent, but also the things I had to do to get places and be on stage and do this certain thing or appear that certain way. It was never my idea to do those things, but during my formative years, being gay was out of the question.
It's why it was so escapist back then. The way I saw it, the only way you could be gay was to simultaneously live a life of exile, away from the world, unable to do anything remotely well with your life. I didn't have any happy stories to live off of. They were all stories of gay kids being disowned by their parents, forced to live on the run. I remember listening to t.A.T.u. and thinking that was the only way to live. "Mama, Papa, forgive me," the girl says as she runs off with another girl, never to be seen again, invisible.
This was my promise to me. Made by society, made by church, made by those I knew who were neither helpful nor hurtful (and therefore hurtful). I did my best to play by their rules. And when I did something I couldn't forgive myself for, I punished myself for it. I believed I deserved all the bad things that happened to me.
And, well, I fulfilled my life of exile. I loathed myself. On the surface, I saw so many things to like that just weren't good enough. Deep down inside, I did things and said things that I knew I could never recover from, never WANTED to recover from. But the blessing of being gay in the world's most expensive city (that's not a stat) was at least I could try to be happy in the city. At least I could be gay there, and be in my exile where nobody outside loved me for who I really was.
Except the outside world changed as well. Little by little, the world began to accept people like me. Even in times when there are those who don't, the world itself has changed, and it will continue changing. But my heart has not changed. My brain has not changed. I look at something like Pride and I'm confused. Why are they all outside getting to celebrate and be happy? Don't they know the pain we've gone through? "Well, dance and be happy regardless of the pain." That just sounds dumb and a waste of time to my brain. So then I realize it's just me who feels this way and I realize everybody can be happy but me.
And I've thankfully come to the conclusion that it really is just me. So I'm going to be working with mental health counselors in the near future to see if I can find a way to really actually love myself. I love my body. I love the things I'm able to do. But there's still some self-love missing. And until I figure that out, Pride won't make sense to me. It's also my sincere prayer that I'm able to go to Pride next year and have real, true fun and be free with those around me.
One more thing: A lot of the things I talked about in this post I also talked about, but haven't resolved as well, in my Odyssey of Light series. I hope to repost that here soon.
I've never been to a Pride. I've always wanted to go, but I often feel like my presence won't be appropriate there. Like I'm not "queer" enough. And a lot of this comes from my past. As a gentle reminder, this wasn't any one particular thing's fault. It was a product of being talented and being shoved into the limelight and wanting to use my talent, but also the things I had to do to get places and be on stage and do this certain thing or appear that certain way. It was never my idea to do those things, but during my formative years, being gay was out of the question.
It's why it was so escapist back then. The way I saw it, the only way you could be gay was to simultaneously live a life of exile, away from the world, unable to do anything remotely well with your life. I didn't have any happy stories to live off of. They were all stories of gay kids being disowned by their parents, forced to live on the run. I remember listening to t.A.T.u. and thinking that was the only way to live. "Mama, Papa, forgive me," the girl says as she runs off with another girl, never to be seen again, invisible.
This was my promise to me. Made by society, made by church, made by those I knew who were neither helpful nor hurtful (and therefore hurtful). I did my best to play by their rules. And when I did something I couldn't forgive myself for, I punished myself for it. I believed I deserved all the bad things that happened to me.
And, well, I fulfilled my life of exile. I loathed myself. On the surface, I saw so many things to like that just weren't good enough. Deep down inside, I did things and said things that I knew I could never recover from, never WANTED to recover from. But the blessing of being gay in the world's most expensive city (that's not a stat) was at least I could try to be happy in the city. At least I could be gay there, and be in my exile where nobody outside loved me for who I really was.
Except the outside world changed as well. Little by little, the world began to accept people like me. Even in times when there are those who don't, the world itself has changed, and it will continue changing. But my heart has not changed. My brain has not changed. I look at something like Pride and I'm confused. Why are they all outside getting to celebrate and be happy? Don't they know the pain we've gone through? "Well, dance and be happy regardless of the pain." That just sounds dumb and a waste of time to my brain. So then I realize it's just me who feels this way and I realize everybody can be happy but me.
And I've thankfully come to the conclusion that it really is just me. So I'm going to be working with mental health counselors in the near future to see if I can find a way to really actually love myself. I love my body. I love the things I'm able to do. But there's still some self-love missing. And until I figure that out, Pride won't make sense to me. It's also my sincere prayer that I'm able to go to Pride next year and have real, true fun and be free with those around me.
One more thing: A lot of the things I talked about in this post I also talked about, but haven't resolved as well, in my Odyssey of Light series. I hope to repost that here soon.