In high school, I fought my gay and lesbian compatriots tooth and nail, asking and shouting:
“Why the hell do we need to make a scene about it?”
“Wouldn’t this just be easier if we all acted normally and let the straights accept us that way?”
“THIS is why they hate us, for being all pro-sex and crazy nakedness in a parade.”
Straight, gay, les, bi, queer, pan, questioning…
We’re all here, and no one’s going to throw stones at you for it.
This is my Pride, and something to be Proud of.
I’m done apologizing for it.
I realize now that I must say this with no undue level of disappointment in myself:
For the first five or so years since realizing I was bi-sexual, I spent a good chunk of that time apologizing for gay culture—ashamed of it, to be honest. The key that drove this shame was the Pride Parade.
I thought it was gaudy and shameless and, on occasion, disgusting.