relationships
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Every year, for as long as I can remember, I watched Meet Me in St. Louis with my mom. Every Christmas. That was our tradition. She loved that movie. I didn’t realize it at the time, but she was teaching me something. About music. About warmth. About how certain stories quietly become part of who
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“Try to remember the kind of September.” That line has been echoing in my head all day, and maybe it is because September once carried a very different meaning. When I was young, Labor Day was not just a holiday. It was the last day of freedom before school began again. In St. Louis, we
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There is a difference between living straight and living queer. That difference follows us everywhere even when no one speaks of it. Straight people rarely notice because the world already belongs to them. They see themselves reflected on every screen, in every commercial, on every billboard, in every book. Their stories are told without question.
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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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Life isn’t supposed to be a series of “gotcha” moments. You know the kind—those little traps people set in conversations, waiting for someone to slip up just so they can say, “Aha! I caught you.” In healthy relationships, that kind of behavior doesn’t belong. But in dysfunctional families, it can become the norm. I lived
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I hate secrets. It’s true—I always have. All my life, I’ve struggled with secrets, especially keeping them. It’s just not how I live. Very early in adulthood, I realized how important it was not to live in secrecy. Some of you who know me might say, “But you were in a straight marriage.” That’s true—I
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When I was little, my mom told me she was going to redecorate my room. I remember the thrill of choosing paint swatches—so deep a royal blue it felt like diving into the night sky. As the first coats went on, the room took on a hushed glow, and we pressed glow‑in‑the‑dark stars into the
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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 