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No Pride
I was supposed to go to NYC Pride today, but I decided not to.
When I was in college, I had an idea of what Pride was. I saw photos and stories from people on social media and wished I could go and be a part of it. Last year I finally got up the nerve and went with a couple of my friends, and we walked down the Parade route...
and walked...
and walked...
and eventually people peeled off and went home after a day marked by lots of walking and little else. Every time we stopped, whether it was to buy a rainbow flag or to look for a restroom, it felt like I was going through the motions of an extreme chore. The crowds were much thinner than I had expected, and most people I had were either drunk or clearly on their way to go somewhere else. I felt lost and listless, and by the time I got on the train to go home, I felt like I had failed some kind of test.
I think I had always thought that things would just work themselves out, and that once I had come out of the closet the rest would follow. But it didn't. If anything I feel much more isolated and pathetic than I did before, because at least then I had something tangible I could hope for. Instead what I found was Instagram smoke and mirrors and not something that could build up whatever self-worth I still have.
For me, all events like Pride really do is remind me that I'm not really a part of the community in any tangible way. My attempts at dating have been nothing short of abysmal, and I had an anxiety attack as soon as I set foot inside Flamecon a couple of years back. And now that I'm 28 it feels way too late to turn that around. I've missed my chance. And going through the motions of going to Pride now just to do it feels like I'm just digging myself further into this pit of denial.
I'm going on vacation in a couple of days, and I'm optimistic that this fog will lift by tomorrow so I can get back to the rest of my life. But right now today, no matter how annoyed I'm with myself, I feel like I'm in a state of mourning for a life I could have lived. Like if I had set out when I was younger I could've had a better body, a better personality, and maybe even fallen in love.
I just wish writing this all out made me feel any different.
When I was in college, I had an idea of what Pride was. I saw photos and stories from people on social media and wished I could go and be a part of it. Last year I finally got up the nerve and went with a couple of my friends, and we walked down the Parade route...
and walked...
and walked...
and eventually people peeled off and went home after a day marked by lots of walking and little else. Every time we stopped, whether it was to buy a rainbow flag or to look for a restroom, it felt like I was going through the motions of an extreme chore. The crowds were much thinner than I had expected, and most people I had were either drunk or clearly on their way to go somewhere else. I felt lost and listless, and by the time I got on the train to go home, I felt like I had failed some kind of test.
I think I had always thought that things would just work themselves out, and that once I had come out of the closet the rest would follow. But it didn't. If anything I feel much more isolated and pathetic than I did before, because at least then I had something tangible I could hope for. Instead what I found was Instagram smoke and mirrors and not something that could build up whatever self-worth I still have.
For me, all events like Pride really do is remind me that I'm not really a part of the community in any tangible way. My attempts at dating have been nothing short of abysmal, and I had an anxiety attack as soon as I set foot inside Flamecon a couple of years back. And now that I'm 28 it feels way too late to turn that around. I've missed my chance. And going through the motions of going to Pride now just to do it feels like I'm just digging myself further into this pit of denial.
I'm going on vacation in a couple of days, and I'm optimistic that this fog will lift by tomorrow so I can get back to the rest of my life. But right now today, no matter how annoyed I'm with myself, I feel like I'm in a state of mourning for a life I could have lived. Like if I had set out when I was younger I could've had a better body, a better personality, and maybe even fallen in love.
I just wish writing this all out made me feel any different.