politic
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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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Lately, I’ve been watching interviews with MAGA supporters, and whenever the question comes up—“Do you believe in the Constitution?”—the response is invariably, “Yes, I’m a constitutionalist.” Yet how can someone honestly claim that title while backing an ideology that not only betrays the very document meant to protect our freedoms but, in many cases, actively
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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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(I originally shared this in February 2024. My father passed away the previous October 2023. I had forgotten about it until tonight.) February 22, 2024 I wanted to share something with you. Most of you know my father was a true believer in the paranormal. He personally experienced the Screaming House firsthand. The last conversation
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I used to believe I could change the world. There was a time when I carried that conviction like a torch, its flame burning so brightly it lit up every corner of my soul. I was sure of it—so sure—that through kindness and understanding, through love and compassion, I could make a difference. I believed
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It’s hard to wrap my head around the news that Donald Trump has claimed the Gulf of Mexico as the “Gulf of America.” This isn’t just a casual rebranding; it’s a striking disregard for history and the significance names carry. The name “Mexico” isn’t merely a label; it’s steeped in rich historical context and cultural
Steven LaChance Blog 