Pride
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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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When I was raising my three children as a single gay father in a small Midwestern town, I had to hide being gay. It wasn’t something I ever wanted to do, it was something I had to do. I had come out at 29 to the people in my life who truly mattered, but to
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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
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This is a good place to begin. I never know how to react when someone says, “Happy Pride.” For me, Pride isn’t about rainbows and niceties. It’s about in-your-face defiance, inner strength, and being visible—for the person who’s been beaten down so badly they’ve not just retreated to the closet but nailed the fucking door
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Tomorrow we step into Pride Month. And this year—more than ever—we have to remember that while there’s celebration, Pride is, and always has been, about activism. It’s about marching for equality and justice, not just for LGBTQIA+ folks, but for everyone. I know it’s cliché to say, but it matters: we cannot forget our past.
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As Good Friday arrives, I find myself grieving not just the crucifixion of Jesus, but the crucifixion of everything He stood for. In a world where religion is being twisted into a weapon, and hate is preached in the name of love, I wrote this letter to God. It is a cry for truth, for…
Steven LaChance Blog 