I came out the day after the election
and I did not do it with grace. I did not do it softly. I did not do it kindly. But I did it because I could no longer stand by and be a quiet/acceptable gay when the next generation was watching their future burn.
I came out to my mother in an awful in-your-face. I-dare-you-to-be-a-bigot way. Because I could. Because for the first time in my life I am free of having anyone relying on me.
I came out to my family. Because I watch as half my niblings have come out to me and are terrified as my siblings spout anti-gay rhetoric. I came out to my family and hope I paved the way for those young eyes who are watching their parents closely to gauge their reaction. The way I once watched my parents reacting to Ellen coming out and knew it was not safe.
I came out the day after the election to a family that voted for Trump.
I came out angry that I will be attending more funerals.
I came out feral and biting.
I did not come out gracefully.
I did not come out kindly.
I did not come out softly or quietly or acceptably*probably not a word*
For those who would not be safe if they came out
We forget pride is not about love.
Pride is a bloody fight for survival against those who would be happy to watch us burn.
And I am not apologizing.