Pride

Reflecting on Pride Month, the quality of pride, and what it means to me now.

I was raised in a religion that teaches that pride is one of the “Seven Deadly Sins” and counter to the Fruits of the Spirit, especially humility.

Humility and meekness were encouraged and being prideful—oftentimes actually confidence and satisfaction with oneself—was frowned upon.

“Good job! Remember to give glory to Jesus.”

“Congratulations! God has been good to you.”

“It’s all for you, Jesus.”

“Oh, I couldn’t have done it without God.”

Christians often especially sneer at Pride Month.

“Why do they need a whole month? Why do they need to rub our faces in it?”

“Celebrating ‘pride’ is narcissistic.”

“Imagine celebrating perversion and making your sexuality your entire identity. Gross.”

This false humility and my identity being wrapped up in Christ damaged my sense of self and confidence. I felt uncomfortable owning my accomplishments and like I actually couldn’t be proud of who I am. With the glorification of humility and the absence/rejection of acceptance and pride, shame often sets in.

I was a dutiful church kid who grew up quiet, insecure, suppressed, and made to feel ashamed for who I am and for who/how I love. I spent my teenage years waging war with my parents over my sexuality and how it manifested: watching porn, being attracted to genders other than boys, and wanting to show more skin. Turns out that all those things are pretty normal; even more, that they are MY normal.

The hardest battle for acceptance I’ve ever fought has been with myself…especially accepting that it’s okay that I am not comfortable in my skin, because I can actually change that! Turns out that once I stopped fighting and surrendered to my natural instincts that the rest comes much more naturally.

This past month, I’ve been working on truly shedding the shame I’ve still been cloaking myself with; particularly shame that I am trans.

Pretty hard to do in a world that tries to tell me in a multitude of ways every day that I am invalid. Harder to do when random people actually hate me for existing. Hardest when the people who are my blood raised me to believe that trans people are a perversion of their God-nature and confused…when I still remember the looks on their faces and hear the disgust in their voices when they saw and talked about trans people.

But the scariest and most freeing revelation of all has been that I have always been this way: queer and trans. And you know what? I am perfectly and wonderfully made. I am not perverted, confused, or influenced by the “Spirit of the Age”. I am finally unpacking and unfolding my true self that has been desperately trying to break free my whole life.

Now I will always be loudly Proud year-round of being queer, trans, and still being here despite the hell I’ve been through just to be accepted and to accept myself.

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