During my childhood, I made a pact with myself that I would exist in a vertical casket until the day I was six feet under. Never once did I consider wholly living for myself; instead, I accepted existing in a way that was most comfortable for others. Memories of youth that should be filled with blissful days and friends at the park are rather replaced by prayers to God that I would wake up the next morning and want to kiss a boy. Repeatedly disappointed and frustrated, I feared that my hidden diagnosis — which members of my conservative upbringing would call a disease — would someday be discovered.
After years of emotional and mental healing combined with the support of my closest friends, I had made a different pact by the time I was 18: to not just be yours truly, but to own everything about myself authentically to the highest degree, and to be, as some people may call it, “obnoxiously fucking gay.” Now, this doesn’t necessarily mean buzzing off half the hair on my head, buying a Subaru and spending the rest of my life camping with multiple cats (although, this future doesn’t sound half bad). My standards of being “obnoxiously fucking gay” include three key points: outwardly practicing self-love, standing up and speaking up in times of injustice without fear and positively contributing to a platform where I can be the LGBTQ+ role model I lacked in adolescence.
I am nearing my second anniversary of being an out and proud lesbian. Looking back at these past couple of years proves just how far I’ve come. No longer am I merely surviving; today I am thriving with a passion to impact the world. While I have not made it to my first pride parade yet, I have immersed myself into the vibrantly queer community of Miami, experienced genuine love with a woman who I was previously convinced only existed in my dreams and adopted an entirely new family comprised of a gaggle of gay men who act as pillars of unabated encouragement.
Yet I am writing this with tears streaming down my face as religious extremists pop champagne corks in celebration of America’s LGBTQ+ progress being reversed. Under the Trump administration, federal protections and resources for queer Americans have been dismantled. Pride month kicked off with 76 members of Congress filing briefs to boost discrimination against LGBTQ+ couples wishing to become foster parents. On the fourth anniversary of the loss of 49 lives at Orlando’s Pulse nightclub, protections rolled back for transgender Americans seeking healthcare. These are just a few of the countless despicable actions taken by our federal government, carrying on the legacy of a system that continues to attack us because of who we are and who we love.
We must continue to fight until every single member of the LGBTQ+ community — not only U.S. citizens, but also across the globe — deservingly earns equal rights. This includes black and trans lives who are often forgotten when referencing our incredibly diverse population. What I once feared has become the driving force behind my life’s purpose. Instead of remaining silent in the face of issues that may not directly affect you, I ask you to join me in being obnoxiously a part of the right side of history. No matter who you are or who you love, carry yourself with the motivation to do good, even when evil takes power.
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