As Pride Month arrives once again, I find myself reflecting less on the noise of the world and more on the people who quietly stood beside me while I learned how to survive inside of it. 🌈
For all the jokes society likes to make about queer people “finding ourselves,” the truth is, many of us spent years simply trying to stay safe long enough to become ourselves at all.
That reality is something I never take lightly.
As a queer individual continuing to navigate identity, healing, relationships, trauma, growth, and the constant evolution of adulthood, I remain deeply thankful for the people who allowed me the freedom to exist without forcing me into a mold that never truly fit. The friends from childhood. The chosen family that appeared later. The mentors. The battle buddies. The artists. The protectors. The unexpected souls who showed up during moments where life could have easily swallowed me whole.
To my old friends and the new ones alike, thank you.
Thank you for the late-night conversations, the check-ins, the uncomfortable truths, the laughter that broke tension, and the moments where your presence alone acted like a security blanket around me and the people I hold closest to my heart.
Without that support system, I honestly do not know how long I would have lasted trying to carry the weight of this world alone.
Through “sickness and health,” literally and figuratively 😂, you stayed. That matters more than some people will ever fully understand.
I also want to extend a heartfelt thank you to Five Nightclub, Ravyn Entertainment, the Badgerland Pride Softball League, and my Milwaukee LGBTQ family for always providing me spaces where I could safely use my voice while still being allowed the freedom to grow, evolve, and redefine myself over time.
Those environments were more than nightlife, entertainment, sports, or social circles. For many of us, they became sanctuaries.
Places where authenticity could breathe without constant judgment. Places where art, drag, music, sports, friendship, and community intertwined into something bigger than ourselves. Places where people saw potential in me long before I fully saw it in myself.
Growth is not always pretty. Identity is not always linear. Healing certainly is not.
But having communities that allow people the grace to evolve instead of permanently chaining them to old versions of themselves is something I will forever appreciate.
Pride Month has always carried layered emotions for me because the celebration itself was born from resistance. Before corporate logos changed colors for thirty days out of the year, before parades became mainstream attractions, before hashtags and rainbow merchandise flooded storefronts, there were queer individuals risking everything simply for existing openly.
The Stonewall Riots of 1969 were not just a historical footnote. They were a breaking point.
A community exhausted by police harassment, violence, discrimination, and public humiliation finally pushed back against a system that treated LGBTQ individuals as disposable. The courage of people like Marsha P. Johnson, Sylvia Rivera, and countless others helped ignite a movement that transformed civil rights history forever.
And yet, even decades later, the scars of hate crimes and discrimination still remain woven into our collective memory.
From the AIDS crisis and the silence that surrounded it, to the murder of Matthew Shepard, to the Pulse nightclub shooting in Orlando that shook the LGBTQ community to its core in 2016, history reminds us that Pride was never simply about celebration. It has always been about survival, visibility, and refusing to disappear.
That truth still matters today.
Especially in a time where politics continue to dominate conversations surrounding identity, rights, healthcare, safety, education, and the freedom to simply live authentically without fear.
I know people across all political backgrounds who genuinely care about protecting the freedoms and dignity of LGBTQ individuals. Independent. Democrat. Republican. Human decency is not owned by a single party line, and I think sometimes we forget that meaningful progress often happens when people are willing to see each other beyond propaganda and fear.
To the politicians, advocates, veterans, parents, allies, educators, healthcare workers, and community leaders who continue standing up for equality and civil rights, thank you.
Not for perfection.
But for continuing to show up.
As someone who served during the era of “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell,” I understand firsthand what it feels like to exist in environments where parts of your identity felt compartmentalized for survival. That experience shaped my understanding of both resilience and compassion in ways I am still unpacking today.
It also taught me something important:
People survive because other people choose to care.
Not because society suddenly becomes easy.
Not because trauma magically disappears.
Not because hate stops existing overnight.
But because somewhere along the line, somebody extends a hand and says:
“You don’t have to carry this alone anymore.”
That is what Pride means to me now.
Not performance.
Not aesthetics.
Not social media algorithms.
Connection.
Chosen family.
Protection.
Accountability.
Growth.
The freedom to evolve without losing yourself in the process.
At forty years old, I still continue redefining pieces of who I am. Life has humbled me, challenged me, broken me down at times, and rebuilt me through unexpected people and experiences. But through all of it, one truth remains consistent:
Love and support save lives.
They always have.
So this Pride Month, I celebrate the fighters who came before us, the friends who stayed beside us, the allies who continue learning, and the younger generation still trying to figure themselves out in a world that can sometimes feel unbearably loud.
You deserve safety.
You deserve dignity.
You deserve authenticity.
And you deserve the freedom to become who you were always meant to be.
Happy Pride Month. 🌈💜