Gay Pride

So I attended a gay pride parade yesterday. For those of you who don't know me and just creepily read my blog, I'm not gay. Also, before anyone starts thinking it was really big of me to attend a gay pride parade even though I'm not gay, it was an accident. The truth of the matter is, it doesn't really matter why I was there (it happened to be on the walk back to the metro station) or who I was with (my heterosexual romantic partner). But what matters is how I felt about it.

Now I've never had a problem with gay people, but I've always had a people who have had a problem with them. This post isn't going to be about that, though. This is no debate. We'll just leave it at the fact that I, personally, have no problem with homosexuality. However, I've never really understood these gay pride parades. I understand working towards gay rights, but gay pride? What is there to be proud of? So you're gay. I don't have straight pride parades. What's the deal?

Well I got my answer last night, and it pretty much bitch slapped me right in the face.

After leaving (a very nice and romantic) dinner with my boyfriend at a restaurant in Washington, D.C., we walked out the door and walked towards the metro station that John's iPhone was giving us directions for. At the block where we needed to turn, I heard a loud amount of techno music and cars slowly going down the street while lots of people were on the side. "A parade!" I squealed. "I wonder what it's for." At that moment, I realized the only float I could see was carrying about 10 shirtless men with six packs and cowboy hats. Then John told me that he remembered someone at work talking about the gay pride parade. I was immediately excited to attend this sort of function since I am always open to new experiences, and as luck would have it, the route to our metro station happened to be on the parade route. For the next 15 or so minutes, I experienced homosexuality all around me, and I loved it.

Gay men holding hands while walking small dogs, men wearing only speedo bathing suits, lesbians grinding on floats, the most wonderful drag queens you've ever seen being escorted by gay mostly naked men wearing bowties and tiny underwear, men and women on motorcycles wearing all leather, priests with signs that said "God invented rainbows." I walked past that parade with a huge smile on my face soaking in the sense of community that I kind of wish I could have been a part of. Every restaurant or store had a rainbow in the window. Everyone was hugging and kissing each other. I felt like a minority as I held my boyfriend's hand dodging the men in pink tight shirts and women in wife beaters. Even as we reached the metro station, I couldn't help but feel kind of sad that I was leaving the party in the streets.

And that's when I realized what gay pride is all about. I thought about the thousands of people who are in the closet and deathly afraid to come out because they would be ridiculed. I thought of the people that feel like they are unlike anyone else and something is wrong with them. I've never felt such a sense of community in my life last night, and if attending one of those parades won't get you out of the closet, nothing will. I felt pride for everyone I knew who was gay. Every other day of the year, they might feel uncomfortable holding hands with the person they love in public. They get stares as they kiss their soulmate goodbye. Yesterday was their day to express themselves and they should be proud to do that.