I Snuck Out of My Conservative Grandma's House to Go to Pride
“Bye Grandma! I’m going out with friends!”
“Where are you going?”
“To brunch, then maybe to a movie. I won’t be back for a few hours.”
“Okay sweetie, have a nice time!”
Flash forward a couple hours and I’m in downtown Memphis, covered head-to-toe in glitter, wearing a mesh crop-top and booty shorts, and tucking some one dollar bills into the bra strap of a drag queen. Let’s just say I was not at brunch.
I was at my first Pride. For those of you who don’t know, Pride festival is basically one big, gay parade in which all the gays (and other LGBTQIA+ members and allies) congregate to celebrate their gay-ness. Going to Pride was a big deal for me, because it was the first time I could go out into the world and celebrate being myself. Although I had only come out to my close friends and my sister, being at Pride surrounded me with people who all had something in common, who all had come together out of a celebration of love. It didn’t matter that I was in a crowd of strangers because I knew that this crowd of strangers had my back.
Pride isn’t just about the rainbow floats, the flying flags, or the glitter that I’m still finding just about everywhere. Pride is about accepting yourself and coming to terms with your identity. For a long time, that was really hard for me. Although I know my parents would be accepting of my identity, I know that there are those who will shun me or judge me or even hate me. Especially when your religion says that people like you will go to hell (while also preaching that Jesus loves everyone… WTF religion), it puts you in a bad relationship with yourself. When the government is trying to take away your community’s rights, it makes you feel like you’ve committed a crime. When people commit hate crimes against your community, it makes you want to hide. It makes you want to bury your identity deep down. It makes you want to be something you’re not.
This is why we need Pride. Pride is about love. Loving yourself. Loving your friends. Loving whoever the hell you want to love. Pride allows you to open your heart up to others, but more importantly, Pride allows you to open your heart to yourself. (Cliché, I know). It really wasn’t until I went to Pride for the first time that I was able to shed my insecurities and without a shadow of a doubt begin to live as myself.
My first pride was an amazing experience. I got to go to drag shows, get a glitter hair-do, talk to some amazing Memphis-based LGBTQ+ organizations, watch the parade (give the middle finger to some anti-gay protesters), buy rainbow soap, eat ice-cream, meet lots of interesting people (most notably, the butch lady that gave free hugs), but most importantly, I got to hang out with my friends. While I got to celebrate my identity at Pride, it’s important to remember that my friends and I celebrate Pride every day just by supporting each other.
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I pulled on hoodie in an attempt to cover both the crop top and the glitter and opened the door to my grandma’s house as quietly as possible. My grandma was sitting in the kitchen reading a book.
“Did you have a fun time at the movie?” she asked, without looking up. “Yeah, I had the best time!” I said as I slipped past her. I ran upstairs to change cloths and wash the glitter out of my hair. I can’t believe I got past her unscathed. “I had the best time.”