Short Story / My First Pride
There was a light mist almost like a blanket of moisture keeping the stifling and oppressive Texas heat at bay. The damp air was an insulator against the expected weirdness of the day. Quiet and gentle, and I hadn’t had a lot of quiet or gentle in my life. That quiet, that gentle was the last thing I had expected from this day and the perfect way to start this amazing day, the start of my real life.
By all accounts Pride can be a bit ruckus and chaotic in the best of situations. I had heard all manner of stories about wild things happening at pride, People with few or no inhibitions. I had never seen a woman in public with no shirt, or a man with only leather chaps on. I had only heard of these things before. So this day started with an unusual anticipation for me. I wasn’t sure what to expect and wasn’t sure what I would do if a naked woman or half naked man approached me. However, I just couldn’t contain the excitement and anticipation. There was a buzzing in my brain that was threatening to flow out to the world. I could feel the excitement racing through my blood pounding in feet begging me to move, Surging up my back making it impossible to sit still. It is reminiscent of the childhood Christmas that you anticipate from August on. When you wake up on Christmas day and the tree is packed so tight with presents you can’t see the floor! You can’t sit or stand but if you keep moving you miss the day… That is how the morning felt.
As I woke I remember thinking “this is it! There is no turning back from this day. Once you go you are out forever!” I was very used to pretending that I was straight when it was “appropriate” and only being out at church. I have never taken rejection well and was certain that everyone I knew was going to disown me. I was sure that everyone would know instantly. I felt like I was about to loose my virginity again. I was terrified at how my life would change and at the same time I was sure it was for the better. Even if I didn’t get fired, as I anticipated I would, and was prepared for, life for me would be different. I would never again be able to deny that I am a Lesbian. I was sure that everyone who knew me would see me in the parade on news footage and have something to say and I was not prepared for that. However, I knew that if I didn’t do this now I would never have the courage to try again. If I didn’t go through with this day I would never forgive myself. I owed it to my children to be honest about who I was. I owed it to myself to be true to me. Although, at the time I wasn’t able to admit that I owed me anything. It would be years later that I would truly understand what a gift this day was to me. I wanted my children to never have to question whether it was ok to be who they are, and how could I teach them that if I couldn’t believe it myself about myself.
I had been warned that the Houston heat would be stifling even if it rained (which is the norm for pride weekend), so I put on my most comfortable walking shorts and a plain blue t-shirt (They would be handing out pride t-shirts at the parade). I left early so that I wouldn’t miss the bus and I stood at the bus stop for close to an hour before the bus finally got there. When the bus got there I was so sure that the driver would tell me “I don’t want any lesbians on my bus” that I just waved the bus on by and started walking. It wasn’t a long walk about 10 blocks total. I had walked it at least a dozen times. It seemed like miles this particular morning, though. The weekend before the parade I had gotten a copy of the map with directions and the parade route from the church so I didn’t have any problem finding it. It was pretty much a straight shot down Montrose. I hadn’t worked on the float so I wasn’t sure if they would even let me walk with them. I wasn’t exactly a social butterfly. I was pretty much just trying to survive.
When I finally got to the staging point I was the first person from the church to arrive. At that point I realized the float in front of us, (PFLAG of course) was undergoing last minute repairs and there were other people around who were so caught up in what they were doing that I could watch and not be noticed. I sat down on the curb and waited and watched. A little while later the crew from the church started to show up. The first person there recognized me and said “Hi, Happy Pride” in this cheery, happy, confident voice. I couldn’t help but smile back and respond. They offered me a bottle of water and smiled as I received my first pride t-shirt identifying my as a member of MCCR (Metropolitan Community Church of the Resurrection) I think I must have been grinning from ear to ear! It was then that I knew that I was going to be ok. All of a sudden I was surrounded by people that I had seen around church, some of them I knew by name others by what they did at the church and others yet that I had no idea who they were but I had seen them around. Everyone was in a good mood, joking about the rain, and celebrating. All of a sudden I was a part of this event. Not just a tag along or a bystander, not a wall flower, or an observer, I was right there in the middle of everything. I was laughing and talking and goofing around with everyone else. I didn’t know what to expect of the rest of the parade but this… this was ok!
The next thing I know some one is asking me if I would like to help carry the church banner at the front of the group. I was too scared to say no, I didn’t want my new found belonging to end I wasn’t ready to let go of this kind of happy, so I said yes. There were four of us and we carried that banner right up front with a pride like I’d never felt before. We sang and laughed and waved and chanted. It was a day like no other, and one I would never forget.
By the time the parade started it was barely misting and it was indeed hot. I didn’t care. It was a miraculous heat not overwhelming as I had feared but a sort of warm and wet and alive. I couldn’t believe how many people were there. There were people taking up every inch of space on the sides of the streets…people everywhere. There were young people, old people, children, couples, whole families, single men and women, groups of women and groups of men. Everyone cheering and smiling it was a phenomenal moment in time for me. I was right, everything was different, I was different, better, new, alive, and real. I could be me! Genuinely, and there were all these people who believed that I had a right to be me. I still have a small faded rainbow flag that a stranger gave me that day. She just walked up to me from out of the crowd and said “here, you should have this” then she disappeared back into the crowd.
I was walking with the church… no watching on the sidelines for me. It would be another 3 years before I would actually watch a parade from the sidelines and not march with the church.
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