Pride
I have never been to a Pride event. I am a forty year old gay trans man. I belong in that space. I should feel a sense of community in that space. But I don’t. Or at least I didn’t up until recently.
I think there’s this misconception among queer people — or at least the ones who figure things out later in life — that you have to be confidently queer to fit in at Pride. All of the Pride photos I have seen are loud. Bold. Sparkly. Glittery. There are people in skimpy outfits. Drag performers. People who exist on a whole other level that I could never reach. And as a fat person, being confident like that never felt like an option. It still doesn’t in some ways.
My lack of confidence in my body has prevented me from exploring the beauty of the queer community through Pride. And that’s really a shame because I’ve had to fight so hard to find myself. As I am. Right now.
It wasn’t easy coming out as trans at thirty-five. I had tried before when I was nineteen, and it wasn’t received well, so I hid that part of myself, consciously pushing myself to believe it was a phase, while subconsciously holding onto the knowledge that it wasn’t.
It wasn’t easy feeling confusion over what body parts I preferred to interact with. This will probably need to be a separate essay but, in short, trauma is an asshole and it locked me out of my own desires. I know that it had its purpose, but realizing I’m gay after years of thinking dick was icky isn’t the vibe I’m going for in 2025.
Having the realization that I’m gay, or rather fully accepting it, was so freeing, and I know I’m lucky in that regard. I didn’t feel like I had to hide my sexuality like so many gay men do. For most of my life, I thought I was a cis woman. Not hetero by any means, but cis. And I dated guys, so I easily fit in as a cis woman. But now here I am. Trans. Very gay. Very. Very. Gay.
And I’m happy about that. I’m happy that I can look at male bodies and feel desire (finally). I’m happy that I feel comfortable in my skin (finally). I feel whole and free (finally), which isn’t something I thought I’d ever feel.
Maybe going to a Pride event is a little too much for me. A little too busy. But I love a good burlesque or drag show. So I’ll keep showing up as me and know that I belong.
Photo by Alex Jackman on Unsplash