The Question Of Pride

So I was asked a very... interesting question the other day.

In a society (and to be more specific, geographical area) where homosexuality is not just frowned upon, but is also discouraged, discriminated, and even at times persecuted, why am I so flamboyant and open about my gayness?

I was a bit taken aback, and being me, gave them a quick and witty response but the question stuck with me long after the conversation had ended. Why am I so proud to be gay?

I tried to justify it to myself by saying it was because it's so obvious in me that denying it would be futile. But then I realized that denial is the best solution for anything because as long as you deny it, there's nothing anyone else can do about it except for suspect.

I thought maybe it was because I'm trying to meet someone, so the more open I am the more likely a prime target will know of my intentions. But then I discounted that because if you're going to meet someone, you're going to meet someone and whether or not they know you're gay isn't going to change their feelings (if they're going to have any) about you.

Then I thought maybe it was because my 'homo'-ness has always been a source of much mirth and humor for everyone I know. But as we all know, that's not why I'm proud to be gay because sometimes that humor really gets on my nerves.

And then it came to me.

History.

It's about the history. Being an only child adopted to a single mother into a totally fucked up family left something to be hugely desired in my life. Growing up, all of my friends would a couple of weeks a year not be able to hang out with me because they were going on vacation with their family. Family reunions, visiting aunts and uncles, grandma and grandpa are in town, and Christmas, God, Christmas was the worst. I always felt so incredibly alone on Christmas because after opening presents mom would go into her room to sulk about the fact that she doesn't have a family and I would sit in the living room and play with my new toys. I remember one year mom couldn't even make it through all of the presents and went into her room 3/4 of the way through them. Just got up off the couch and shut her door. What would be the point of opening the rest of the presents if no one was there to share the joy? So I put on my coat and grabbed one of the wrapped boxes that were left and went for a walk. It was frigid and there was snow on the ground that crunched beneath my boots like particle board as I passed front window after front window of happy families and festive decorations. Why didn't I have that? Why was I not allowed to have that? That's what I always wondered.

And those damned family history assignments in school. There was always at least one a year of "draw your family tree" or "find an interesting ancestor and do a report". I never could. What would be the point? My family tree is so convoluted and twisted and the worst part is, it doesn't even really belong to me because I'm not blood related to any of these people and the woman that I am blood related to didn't want anything to do with me when I was born and the man I'm blood related to doesn't even know I exist.

You want to talk about a bastard child, I'm a prime example.

So when I realized at such a young age that I was attracted to women, it was like having more than just one piece of myself be filled up. It was like having almost every hole in my entire life filled up.

Suddenly I was a part of something. Suddenly I had a history, a culture, a people. Finally, for once in my life, I had something that I could relate with other people on. "You like your own gender? So do I!"

I realized, when I grew up, I didn't want to be anything but a lesbian. I told my mom I wanted to be an architect, a writer, a singer, an actress, but in the back of my mind, the word "gay" was added to every one of those careers. All my life, I've wanted nothing more than to be gay. That's all.

I may not have ancestors of great descent, grandparents who come to visit, cousins that I keep in touch with, or even parents to be proud of, but I come from a long line of great men and women who have helped change the face of this planet and society as we know it.

And that, in my opinion, is something to be proud of.

Here's to another nineteen years of gay pride.

~Alisa