Activism
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Let me be blunt: when you vote for politicians who call us “degenerates” or promise to “protect traditional values,” you are not just casting a ballot—you are signing off on a blueprint for our erasure. The Department of Homeland Security’s recent decision to revoke protections barring the surveillance of LGBTQ+ individuals isn’t a bureaucratic tweak.…
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Dear Future Family, Today is March 1, 2025. When I was a boy, my grandmother would say March came in like a lion or a lamb. Her voice was warm, steady, the kind that made you believe whatever she said. I’d sit by her closely, listening to the wind howl outside, never imagining I’d one
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Faith. It’s a word that’s followed me like a shadow, shifting shape depending on the light I cast on it. For years, I’ve turned it over in my mind, trying to grasp its edges, only to find it slipping through my fingers like smoke. Merriam-Webster offers definitions—”strong conviction,” “complete trust,” “belief in God,” “firm belief
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December 2017. The air smelled like the holidays and pine needles. We stood in a room full of people who’d fought for us, cried for us, waited for us. My hands shook holding the marriage license—a piece of paper I never thought I’d get to sign. Seven years later, I still remember the way my
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I know I drive some of you crazy with my constant barrage of queer content. Trust me, I get it. But here’s the thing—you have to understand that my posts aren’t really for you. And I’m certainly not trying to change the minds of the far-right extremists who have already decided to rationalize their hatred.
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I often think of Anne Frank. Her words, her story, her unwavering hope in the face of unimaginable fear have haunted and inspired me for as long as I can remember. But it wasn’t until I visited the Secret Annex in Amsterdam that I truly felt the weight of her presence. Walking through those small,
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It was 1982, and I was seventeen—carefree, bold, and utterly convinced that the future was bright. I remember walking into the local arcade with my pink polo collar flipped up and starched, my straight-leg jeans perfectly faded, and my loafers polished just enough to look effortlessly cool. A typical seventeen-year-old in the eighties, caught somewhere
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I’ve been reflecting a lot on spirituality and its connection to religion, especially as a gay man. For many queer individuals, religion can be a challenging topic, often leaving a bitter taste in our mouths. Throughout our lives, we have faced many moments of hostility from those who insist they hold the key to divine
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Hate, a weapon wielded in the Trump era to strip away rights and dignity from numerous marginalized groups, seeping into the very essence of our society and eroding the bonds that bind us. As a gay man navigating these turbulent times, I have felt firsthand the weight of this malevolent force and its impact on
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The worst homophobia I have experienced in my life has been within the paranormal community. I have been threatened to be outed several times over the years, which I found amusing because anyone who truly knew me was aware that I came out at 29. I considered my sexuality a non-topic and something that was
Steven LaChance Blog 