Dear LGBTQ+ Community,

You are gorgeous.

Brielle Franch via Unsplash

It’s June 1. Happy Pride!

Perhaps this is the only month you feel seen in this country. Perhaps you’re one of the lucky ones who live in a city that makes you feel seen all year long. Or perhaps you live somewhere that you not only don’t feel seen, but you feel scared, alone, and locally hated. Maybe you live in a place where Pride Month won’t be mentioned at all.

I’m sorry if that’s the case.

I grew up in a small town. We had exactly four black families in a town with a population of less than 18,000. It wasn’t exactly a progressive town, and I lived on the outskirts of it. My best friend was gay; she was the only gay person I knew in that town. She lived right across the street from me. I watched her experiment with a boy when she was in the 7th grade before she decided she was gay.

As we got older, we remained friends. I had the privilege of attending her wedding to a woman she loved, and I watched her change over the years. She had her breasts removed because she was carrying around 5 extra pounds of meat, and her back could not afford to bear the burden of the weight any longer, which made it convenient because she also decided she wanted to start hormones and be called a different name more suited to how she felt in her body. She wanted to be a he.

I have to admit I had a hard time with the name and pronoun conversion because, for decades, I knew her as one name and one gender. It wasn’t for lack of wanting to be a good ally. My brain just didn’t want to make the switch, so I would stumble on my words when asking for him on the phone. It was also over two decades ago, so the pronoun thing hadn’t really caught traction yet.

But at no time did I ever think she was wrong. I saw her try. I saw her suffer. I saw her in pain. I saw her watch as her own body morphed, on its own and over the years, to resemble a very athletic and more manly body, which was perfect because it’s who she was meant to be all along.

I think her body did her a favor. I believe God knew who she was before she did.

This person. This beautiful person, not defined through her own life by any attachment to one name or description, could check any damn box she wanted.

She eventually reverted back to her original name and decided she didn’t care what pronoun I used for her.

Last I checked, she decided she was asexual and probably still celibate.

Can’t say I blame her. It’s slim pickens for all of us out here.

Anywho…

I want you to know I am and always will be an ally.

I will fight for your right to not just exist, but for your right to be exactly who you are, with the freedom to love who you love, and the freedom to change your mind at any time.

Enjoy your month, if you can.

It’s the most colorful, diverse, vibrant, beautiful month on the calendar.

Robin Ooode via Unsplash

Hugs,

Sabrina

P.S. For all those who sit behind a desk or a podium or enjoy any kind of influence, who make decisions and declarations about how people should live, people you will never meet and never know, please at least understand the impact you are having on these people.

Especially children and young adults still trying to figure themselves out. Especially when they may idolize you or look up to you.

Ahem, Harrison Butker. I am forever a Chiefs fan but I am not a fan of you. You chose to use your time at the podium to stab a large part of your fanbase (thanks to Taylor Swift) in the back. Your disdain was palpable, and your words are dangerous. The saddest part of your speech was that you probably spent hours on it, so it wasn’t just you having a bad day or not thinking before you speak. You thought long and hard about your words, and then you said them.

When you tell them they are wrong you are denying them their existence. They are already four times more likely to attempt suicide, without your help. Just clicking on the Trevor Project website I am told how I can exit the site quickly if I need to.

The Trevor Project Homepage

You know who else has this on their websites? Domestic Violence Shelters.

Being different in this country is still dangerous for millions of people. These are your sons and daughters, sisters and brothers, who can’t even feel safe enough to be curious on the internet.

It’s not easy to be any kinda queer. This isn’t a life they chose for shits and giggles. It’s hard, confusing, and often dangerous in many parts of the U.S. You think someone would take all that on for the hell of it? They do it because it’s the only way they feel comfortable living in their bodies and on this earth. They should always have the right to choose for themselves.

The right to be yourself is one of the most basic of human rights.

These kids are dying, and it may only take one more law or word from you to do the trick for the next kid.

So consider this quick scenario before you speak or act.

1. If your child was gay, would you tell them their lives were immoral?

2. If your son or daughter killed themselves the very next night, and you could turn back time, would you still tell them their lives were immoral?

Or would you just like to have them back on this earth for one more day? No matter how they loved or lived?

I think I know your answer.

I hope I know your answer.

Please. Love everyone anyway, in spite of, and regardless of your own personal beliefs.

Love should always win over hate.