Pride

The fear and trembling were not good. Worse, the dread. Breathing shortened. Cool sweat formed on the forehead, down the back, too. Something was not ‘right,’ but no words labeled it.

As time passed words did come, words that articulated more of the unknown. Bit by bit it uncovered a truth hard to fathom.

I have thought back through all of this many times, for decades, generations even. Coming of age means so many different things. It depends on who is involved. What is their personal universe? Who was their family core? How accepting of differentness were they. Would they accept the full truth? Or only bits and pieces of it? Under what circumstances would they face all of it?

And who would tell them? Who would find a way to say it all? Was it worth it? How easy to avoid this, to bury it again and again, go onto something else that was more interesting, fun, diverting?

Friends of my age did not know. When would they understand? And the consequence?

Of course, I refer to naming the cause as being gay. It comes slowly with inching awareness. Usually, a public happening causes a stir and comments; later it is a newspaper article. Then the whispers gather more interest, and a name is placed on it, the differentness. Looking up words in the dictionary helped. Of course, the dictionary was shut or changed to different pages when I left it so no one would know what I was investigating.

Once the self is clued in, then wanting to talk about it aches, but with whom is a mystery. For a long time, it is a mystery. To talk about it means sharing and baring the self. More avoidance. Years tick by.

Every gay person in America through history has had these experiences. In modern times it is easier, but that does not lessen the weight of the process. The speed? Yes. The pain? No.

June is Pride month in the USA. It is a time to admit that being different is not a fatal condition. It is a time to share the simple fact that gay is a natural gender orientation. It was not chosen. It just is. Once the long process of realizing the reality, clearly choice was never a part of the equation.

Being who you are is the point of it. I am many things – white, Anglo-Saxon, protestant Christian of so-so credentials, an aging person, male, political centrist but involved, and oh, by the way, gay. Once married, father of two, grandfather of four, divorced and now gay married with more kids and grandkids. It is OK, all of it is OK.

As I near the 80^th birthday (still 2 years away), I realize only now what I should have known from the beginning. But then it wouldn’t mean as much to me, would it? The status is earned, not conferred.

I am gay and it is OK.

If anyone wants to understand it fully, they have to walk in my shoes through the whole story. It is a long walk. And, it isn’t over yet!

June 4, 2021