This weekend was Gay Pride in the Twin Cities. Though I did not used to go, it is now a tradition for Chad and I. We park in the same place, watch the parade from the same place, and then tour the festival at Loring Park. Because I am proud of who I am, I think Pride is important for me to go to now. I do not go to wrap myself in rainbows, wear glittery lipstick, and call everyone I see "guuuurrrrrl." I go because it is the one time each year that Chad and I can hold hands in a public place and be in the majority. For once, each year, it feels safe and comfortable to be just one of the many, instead of the token.
That said, I still cannot believe some of the shenanigans that go one. Women dressed as men, men dressed as women, woman going shirtless except for little sparkly things over their nipples, and don't even get me started on the amount of rainbows! I am gay, and I am proud... but I still do not see why Pride turns into this weird-o naked thing for some people. I mentioned the topless Lezbos... what about the men in barrels who want to show you their junk, of the guys who wear these TINY banana hammocks that leave nothing to the imagination. I just don't understand. Be out, be proud, be gay, but why do you have to be so weird.
I love Pride, but I also realized it is part of what gives many of us a bad name. For better or worse, that is how it is. I am glad I went, I will continue to go, and I will still hope that one day what is normal for me, is normal for the rest of the "straight" world.
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