Bonus Blog: Special Pride Addition

I know that I made a blog post only yesterday, but this is Pride Month, and I've made a promise to be extra gay throughout the month.

This time last year, Ryan and I were going to bed to prepare for the next day like nothing could go wrong. June 11th, 2016 was a Saturday like any other for most people. As many of you reading this know, over the night of June 11th and into the early hours of June 12th, the Pulse nightclub in Orlando, FL was the site of the most deadly mass shooting in the history of America.

49 people dead, and still others injured. Forty-nine of my brothers and sisters, not connected by blood, but under the collective banner of the queer experience and how it connected us, were killed in cold blood for being who they were, and for being in a safe space for them. Targeted by a monster who was out to destroy a way of life in the only way he knew how; by becoming a murderer.

One summer before that shooting, Ryan and I were moving from Clovis, NM back to Lubbock, TX so I could go to school. On the day of our move, June 26th, the Supreme Court ruled that gay marriage was legal throughout the United States, that it meant there wouldn't be a ridiculous Texas law preventing our marriage when we crossed the state border. We were ecstatic; we thought the country was on the path to progress and understanding.

We quickly learned that a court ruling didn't automatically negate hatred and bigotry. We're still afraid to hold hands, even stand near one another sometimes in public places. We're thankful that we have spaces where we can be intimate, but of course we would enjoy the simple affections that come with a relationship.

Then the Pulse nightclub shooting happened. Myself, and many other queer-identifying people, and those close to us, were shocked. Outcry rang out on my social media feed, the burning question: "Why? why did this happen?"

For every outcry, there was dissent. That the victims somehow deserved what happened to them. Ryan and I still hoped that the country was on its way to progress, and though the Pulse nightclub shooting hurt us, we tried to heal. President Obama, Vice-President Biden, and Hillary Clinton expressed grief, and visited the memorial to the victims of the shooting, expressed condolences to the families of the victims. Donald Trump ignored the attack, instead expressing concerns over Islam.

Speaking of Donald Trump, the nation was in fact not moving towards progress. Less than half of the nation's population, but still a decent amount, expressed support for a hateful, bigoted pumpkin to sit in the driver's seat of the country, after openly admitting to sexual assault and numerous law suits connected to failed business ventures. The Electoral College placed him in power, with a Vice President who openly supports the practice of gay conversion therapy, a torturous process by which people aim to use electric shock therapy, shame, fear, anything they can to make a person not be gay.

To be clear, it doesn't work. It results in far more suicides, depression, anxiety, other forms of mental illness, and general unhappiness.

That's where we are, in our nation. On the terrible anniversary of the Pulse nightclub shooting, instead of a President who would honor the memory of the victims who died, a colossal asshat is probably taking his fourteenth consecutive golfing vacation.

Last Fall, I wrote a short story about what it meant to be gay, in second person, to put the reader in the shoes of a gay person. Many Straights in the class expressed negativity concerning the piece:

"I have many gay friends, and none of them have expressed any sort of idea about what it means to be who they are in this sort of context."

Which is awesome! If that really is the case for your "gay friends," however real or imaginary they are, that is really amazing for them. But also, person-from-my-class, it's honestly highly probably that your "gay friends" think you're a bigot who will dismiss any expression of hardship they might make! And another thing, not every person has the same universal experience! Also fuck you.

I had to be silent because of the criticism of my story, but I won't be silenced here. It is pride month, and I am more than entitled to express myself when there is a President in office who wants to ignore me and pretend I don't exist. But I do exist, and honestly sometimes I'm a little angry about it, especially when people dismiss me and my experiences because they're not what they expect, or they don't think that I should be married to someone of the same sex. I am here, and I am loud about it!

If you are queer, or questioning queer and reading my blog, that's your prerogative, too. Even if it isn't pride month. Even if you don't feel comfortable expressing it out loud, you can admit it to yourself. That's where accepting yourself comes from, is being willing to admit to yourself that you might be different.

And always remember, "different" is not synonymous with "bad" or "evil." It's just not. You can be different from other people, even if different just means you're figuring things out.

The town I grew up in, everyone wanted to be like everyone else. And that's just not life; of course it isn't, now that I'm older. But then, I thought that I was the worst because I wasn't like everyone else.

So don't be like everyone else, be you. Happy Pride Month!