lgbtqia
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There may come a time when the rights of LGBTQ+ Americans are pushed so far backwards that silence is no longer an option. When that day arrives it will not be corporate policy changes or legal filings that shake the political landscape. It will be people. Ordinary citizens who have lived quietly with extraordinary truths.
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The reality is we are living in a time when our rights can be taken away faster than they are given. If you are a queer couple in the United States, being proactive is not paranoia. It is survival. You cannot wait for a crisis to prepare. Love is worth protecting and so are you.
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Why do you hurt me?was the prayer I never said aloud.It lived in my mouth like a dying bird,fluttering, breaking its neckon the cage of my molars. You looked at me likesomething ungrateful.Something wild you forgot to tame.I didn’t understand.Not when I still thoughtblood meant safety,that family meant shelterand not war dressed as tradition. Later—I
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Friendships and relationships. Missed, hidden, and mourned There’s a part of coming out no one really prepares you for. People talk about the joy, the freedom, the sense of finally stepping into yourself. And that’s real. But there’s another side too. A quieter, harder side. One that lingers. It’s grief. The Ones I Never Got
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I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what faith really means. Not the version wrapped in rules or ritual, but the kind that grows quietly inside you. The kind you don’t always have words for, but you feel it. It shows up in how you love. In how you choose kindness. In the way you
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“I am German and am waiting for the Germans to come back; they have gone to ground somewhere,” Victor Klemperer wrote in his diary. He was the son of a rabbi and a World War One veteran who chose to stay and somehow survived. The warning signs were there then. They are here now. Trump’s
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Growing up gay meant learning how to scan a room before you ever opened your mouth. You became fluent in body language before you even understood your own. A wrist held too loosely. A vowel dragged too long. A laugh that felt too bright. You noticed what made people flinch. What made them stare. What
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I came across a meme today from someone back in my hometown. I’m not going to share it. I won’t give it the space. But I will say this: it was hurtful. The kind of disguised homophobia that hides behind “just my opinion” or “I’m not being hateful, I just have standards.” You know the
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We were in Key West for their Pride celebration when we got news of the Pulse massacre. I remember exactly where I was and how it felt when I first heard about what had happened. The contrast between the night before and the morning after still stays with me. It was like something shifted —
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I’ve never understood the idea that there’s some man in the sky who demands we only marry the opposite sex. Really think about that — you’re telling me the ultimate force of love and creation is obsessed with our bedroom choices? That’s not divine, that’s control dressed up as religion. If your God insists on
Steven LaChance Blog 