I first went to Pride in the fall of 2019, my sophomore year of college; the town my university was in always had their Prides in October, so that the college kids who went home for the summer could participate.
I was still new in my identity, and even though I was going to meet a few friends there, I was nervous. I hid the pride flag I bought at a school event as I walked to where I was meeting them.
When I got there, however, I felt better, freer. It felt right, being there with my friends and in this community. The parade was filled with so much light and joy, and I even found myself tearing up at the beauty of it all. Next to us sat a mother and her child, and when the parade finished the mother turned to her kid and said, “Do you know why we have this party? This party is a celebration of love, and loving who we want.” It was hard not to sob at that.
I looked forward to the next Pride parade in 2020, but, unfortunately…you know.
Late last year, I visited Oregon again. Of the many things I planned to do, Pride was one of them. It had been five years since I first went. Now, I was…still new and unsure in my identity, for I had changed labels to ones that felt more “me” in the moment. I’ve still grown–with my chosen family, with my community, and within myself.
In 2019 I sat near the back of the parade. In 2023, I sat directly in the front, seeing everything first. No matter where I sat, the experience was wonderful. I got to see friends, even some that I hadn’t seen since college, and it was great to see so many communities come together to show their pride.
I’ve grown a lot in the last five years–six now, since it’s currently Pride month. It’s impossible to truly know oneself, since we are constantly changing and evolving. I am not the same person I was five years ago, one year ago, even one week ago. And I think that’s one of the main principles of Pride: loving yourself, no matter how many changes you go through.
That, and remembering the roots of Pride, and fighting to make sure we all can live a safe, peaceful life.
E. A. Young Writes 