My First Pride and the Dispossession of Shame

I didn't realize that the feels would hit like this.

For those of you not aware, today is June 1st, marking the first day of the month of Pride celebrations for the LGBTQ+ community.

It may not occur to some of you that being trans and lesbian does not automatically mean that I know a plethora of other LGBTQ+ people. Honestly, I know very few trans people, and have only gotten to know a few other gay and lesbian people very well in my life. I am not well connected within my community, though I wish to fix this.

I've written before that visibility is what has quite literally saved people like me. It's the lack of visibility and understanding that I lived with for so long, coupled with the people in my immediate environment and larger society gaslighting me that kept me in the closet for most of my life, hidden from myself, unable to accept myself.

I would lose count if I attempted to recall the number of times growing up that I heard people around me calling Pride disgusting and saying that there should be a "Straight Pride" festival, as if it was difficult to be cis and straight in our society. "Stop shoving it down our throats," they would say, as if they hadn't been abusively shoving their cis-heteronormative indoctrination down our throats through the force of law, violence, and religious and societal ostracism. They're not asking us to stop "shoving it down their throats,"" they're demanding us back in the closet. I can't recall the number of times I've heard from close family and community members that we should be round up and shot, or at least locked away in a mental institution. Times I've heard these things certainly had their intended effect, because I repressed my feelings. I was ashamed. I was afraid. I was also ignorant. I didn't know enough to know otherwise. I was

Even when we are not surrounded by outright bigotry or the threat of violence or death, seemingly benign ignorance in others and ourselves results in other forms of harm.

The other day I was talking to a very close family member who didn't even know that the rainbow was a symbol for LGBTQ+ people. They said somewhat defensively, "I wouldn't know anything about that," as if it would be wrong for them to know about anything concerning us. I also got the distinct feeling that this family member didn't understand why I, a lesbian trans woman, who is married to a cis woman, would refer to myself as gay or lesbian, and it's not even the first time this has happened since coming out.

I understand why cisgender, heterosexual people are ignorant and disinterested in learning further. It's often of little consequence to them directly even when they hold no malice toward us. It should be noted that this is the same issue for other oppressed minorities, as well. What is the incentive to learn when you don't believe it will affect you directly?

At least in this community, however, there is a certain harm that comes from this indifference, and this harm is the direct result of ignorance. When we are surrounded by this ignorance, we are surrounded not only by bigotry which leads to the violence done upon us, but also we are surrounded by shame, resulting in the violence we commit upon ourselves in our own hearts.

This is why my first Pride has inspired feelings in me that I didn't realize it would. It signifies to me the importance of making it known that we exist, as well as my gratitude that so many others before me have been there, calling to me, letting me know that it will be okay, and that even the times when things are not okay, we will not be alone. Pride signifies to me that we can see ourselves in others, and to know that there are others like us. It's important to know that we see each other as people, as fully human, even when others don't, and for us to see and understand ourselves as such, too. It's important, in a world that has told us to be ashamed, that we must not live in shame, denying ourselves of our true existence. To deny ourselves of our own existence is its own sort of death. Those who wish shame upon you for your own existence, whether they realize it or not, are wishing your death.

Pride, a reminder to dispossess ourselves of that shame, is about life. It is a reminder that we deserve to live openly, with love and happiness. I intend to live, and I intend to live with pride.