Joseph Jarrett

While I’ve been focusing on media and how it relates to my life during Pride Month, we’re going to shift this week into something deeper. I have heard the question “Why do we still need a Pride Month?” so many times in my less than a decade of being out. I want to focus on that, now. While it’s beautiful to see how much has changed in a short amount of time, there’s still a lot that needs to be done.

            I genuinely get happier with each year that passes. My life gets more and more fulfilling, vibrant, and exciting as the clock ticks. However, I’d be lying if I said I still didn’t struggle. You see, there’s a certain unhappiness that lingers in every queer person. This unhappiness almost always stems from a variety of fears. This could be the fear of rejection from loved ones or the fear of isolation after coming out. They’re all valid in their own ways, but there’s one greater than these in my world; that’s the fear of being “too much” for people to handle.

            I’ve always had a big personality. Though I can be quiet at times, you always know when I’m there. I can be wild and boisterous and outlandish. Most of the time, it’s genuine. But there are times when I purposely tone it down because I don’t feel comfortable or safe. It’s not that I want to hide, but there’s this voice in the back of my mind that says to keep it down until we know what we’re dealing with. It’s brutal and scary, but survival is everything, even in this modern world.

            There are so many people who still have an issue with the mere existence of people like me. I am lucky to live in one of the 38 countries that legalized same-sex marriage. I have a right that so many people don’t. Yet there are 65 countries that still criminalize people like me. Almost double the number of countries that celebrate love condemn it. People have willingly smoked for centuries, despite knowing it kills you. So, why is it so horrendous to let two people in love have some peace?

            There’s a piece of me that is still so naïve and has this hope that someday I can travel the world and not need to hide who I am. That there will be a day when I can be loud, hang off the arm of a man I love, and not be afraid. But for now, I will lower the tone of my voice when I get the feeling that something is off. I will stand a little taller if I feel threatened. Maybe that makes me a coward, seeing as I wrote an entire book openly (and very brightly) expressing my life as a gay man. Self-preservation always wins, though. At least it does in my experience.

            I can’t sit here and pretend that this stuff doesn’t happen. I love my life, the people in it, and the things I’ve been able to do. But there are so few people in my life who can understand this feeling. Almost everyone who surrounds me on a daily basis will never know what it is like to be so scared that someone might hear the natural tone of my voice and deem me a problem.

            I often wonder if I’ll ever live in a world where queer people don’t carry some kind of fear. I have prayed time and time again for it to happen. It’s just not fair. No one deserves to carry that kind of weight every single day.

            Maybe one day, though. Just maybe.