Jacksonville’s pride parade was October 1st at 4p.m., starting in Boone Park, rolling down St. John's Ave, up McDuff, and down Park St. to Five Points. This celebration of diversity in gender and sexual expression had always eluded me: work, school or otherwise life always got in the way of attending. Lucky me to live on the corner of McDuff and Park, because I never even had to put shoes on to enjoy the celebrations. Floats with smiling, screaming people, dance music, giant banners and rainbows, the whole shebang, tossing candy, flyers, Frisbee's and beach balls right into my front yard.

And I cried.

I never understood why this happened. When I found out gay marriage was legal, I had tears streaming down my face. When I saw my first protesters at South Carolina Pride, I couldn’t contain myself. Every festival, parade, special event, even a video shared on somebody else’s Facebook timeline. I can’t help but cry.

I figured it’s because it was discussing my life. It regarded my future. But to cry? Maybe it’s because I’m excitable. I am an empath. That maybe I just soaked up too much of somebody else’s energy. Maybe it’s because I’m shocked. I know mine is not an original story- religious family that never writes, calls, won’t even be my Facebook friend. I know I’m not the only one who experienced violence, rage, refusal, slander, cruelty, the fear to kiss or hug in public, the shame in admitting to strangers the truth.

Maybe it’s because for a brief time, none of this matters. These people are loud, happy, proud to be who they are, whatever they are, with whoever they want to be with. There is no hiding. No silence. No expectations to be out of the way. They take up space- all of the space- and are welcomed. This is a community where I am welcomed.

The stigma around the LGBTQ+ community has branched out in different ways from when I was first coming out, and from decades before. But we have so far to come. Expanding to include all genders or lack thereof, every sexuality or lack thereof, and to be patient, respectful, and understanding of each individual. Creating safe spaces will continue to be a major priority. However, for 45 minutes in my front yard, I felt peace. I felt like acceptance was real. I felt like I was a part of something.

Saturday afternoon, I went to work with a neck full of beads, rainbow bracelets, and candy to share with my coworkers. I felt so happy, so okay, and spent the majority of the evening trying to figure out why I always cry. It’s complicated, I decided. At the end of it all, I know it’s a happy cry, at least for the most part, and I want to do everything I can to extend these feelings in any way I can. I want to make as many people who are open to it feel as welcomed and as in place as I do in those experiences, regardless of their preferences in partner, pronoun, or otherwise identity expressions. Pride is expanding and will continue to do so as long as we are proactive, aware, informed, and continue to be proud.