Well, freshman me would be mortified by her future self.
Yep, that’s right. I didn’t go to Pride. Now, don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t like I didn’t want to be there. It’s just that organic chemistry exists, and, however unfortunately, one of our three exams (and consequently, four grades in the class) happened to take place two days later, and I wasn’t taking any chances, even if it meant making a few sacrifices.
But, honestly, I think my justification for missing Pride, other than my studies, was a rationalization a good friend nearly slapped me in the face with in the midst of one of my life-loathing rants about hell week. Why should you spend only one weekend being unashamed and proud of who you are, when you should be doing that every day? Who cares if you missed Pride? Now, granted, without a whole community joining you in the celebration of personal identity, doing just that can be difficult. Learning to accept and love yourself is an uphill battle for sure, a Sisyphean task of epic proportions to learn to listen to some people and ignore others, and not to take prejudice too personally. But, hey, we have to do it.
I challenge you all, therefore, to make Pride last all year. Yeah, enjoy Pride when it happens. Revel in a weekend of no regrets about yourself, but carry that sentiment with you all the time, and see if you can keep going even when things get tough. Honestly, it’s the best thing I’ve ever tried to do for myself, and I bet it would be for everyone else, gay, straight, bi, or otherwise.