Even though June has passed, I finally learned what it feels like to be proud of who I am.
I was born and raised in a traditional town where people are expected to follow a similar life track: study well, be a good kid, get into a good college, find a stable job, and get married and have a child before 30. I was always taught this way, and I truly believed I would end up dating a girl who was meant to be my wife. I had even thought about how I would propose to her.
When I was 13, I realized that cute boys seemed much more attractive to me than girls, though I thought it was normal and would eventually fade away. I started questioning my sexual orientation, and I even let myself believe I might be bisexual, because that meant I could still choose the safe path, still give my family the future they expected. However, I knew it was a lie, and I couldn't face myself until 2024, when I became fascinated by gay movies and TV dramas. I realized that this was what I had been longing for, and I had to face reality.
I was worried about what if my old friends found out, and most of all, what if my parents knew. Even now, I often have nightmares that my parents find out I am gay. Meanwhile, I kept hoping to meet a guy and finally experience what it feels like to be in love, something I had never felt before.
This is why I love queer movies: they are a way for me to learn how it feels to be loved, and how others in the same situation as me might feel. Through them, I try to imagine all the possible ways the world might react if I come out. And from all these queer movies and shows, I started to learn what the people that the young me and my hometown called "perverts" are truly like: they, or we, are just normal people who deserve to be respected and loved.
To this day, I am still hiding from the people I am certain won't accept me, and I am not brave enough to let everyone know the real me. But at least, I will never hide from myself again, and I hope that is a small step forward.
I decided to go to a pride parade for the first time. Honestly, I was frightened and worried it wasn't a good idea. I was afraid I couldn't really be part of it as someone still in the closet, not to mention going there alone. But I want to thank myself for taking this step.
It was the first time I felt I could be as "disgusting" as I wanted. It was the first time I knew there are people, lots and lots of people, who support me loving whoever I want and can accept me.
At first, I felt a bit nervous to shout and cheer in the crowd. But gradually, maybe moved by the atmosphere, I threw myself completely into it. I cheered, shouted, jumped, screamed. Then I saw the contingent of PFLAG, the one I had only ever seen in movies. They waved signs like "I love my LGBTQ kids," and it felt like they had waved their way from a scene in a film into real life. I was shattered. I suddenly realized that in the real world, there are parents who fully accept their kids no matter their sexual orientation.
I felt a lump in my throat, and tears in my eyes. Submerged by the music and the cheers, a feeling I had buried in my heart for 22 years burst out. I couldn't scream anymore, because I knew my cheering would end up as crying. I got a free hug from a "mom" I didn't know. But maybe, at that moment, she knew a bit more about me than my own mom does. She hugged me gently but firmly and said, "Have a good time, kid." I started dreaming that she was my real mom, but I failed, because I know my mom cannot speak English.
When it was almost the end of the parade, I saw the UChicago bus, and I asked a lady beside me to take a picture of me with it. She told me that next year, I would be on the bus, and I said yes, I will. But I know I am graduating next year, and even if I could still be part of a parade, I might not be in a place where one is allowed to happen.
I am not proud of my sexual orientation. I am proud that I had the nerve to face myself, and I know that being gay made up who I am. I started compiling all the pictures and tried to come out to my friends. But I still posted that Instagram story only to the close friends who already know I am gay, or who I believe will accept me.
That is one of my favorite stories, and I keep looking at it: it feels like I am there again; it feels like I can be myself again. Twenty-four hours later, that story expired. It feels like I have never been there at all. All the pride, all of it, feels like just an illusion. It changes nothing, and my life goes on as usual.
But was it really just an illusion? I believe it wasn't. I can still hear people cheering, feel the hug, see the rainbow. I will always remember how I felt in that moment, and I keep in mind that I am allowed to love however I want. Even though June has passed, even though pride month has ended, I will always remember that I am free to be proud of myself, no matter who I am.