I spent the better part of my life not being true to myself in a lot of ways. It wasn’t until I was in my 30s - with a three year old son who wanted to wear nothing but pink, sparkles and dresses - that I chose to live my life more authentically. How on earth could I support him 100% and show him to be fearless in his path if I was complacently hiding behind my white, straight passing, milk toast privilege? If I continued to live my life as a lie, what message was I sending my son?

I came out as queer later than most, but I will always thank my son for giving me the courage to do so. Since then, I have worked very hard to be my most authentic self in all of the ways, which are all a little much for some, while tame and boring to others. I acknowledge that, in a lot of ways, I still gain privilege because I am so damn basic, straight passing and single. But once you take a look at my website, my social media history, or you speak to me, you’ll know. I’m not quiet. I’m not afraid. I’m just me.

Not being afraid costs me sometimes, and that gives me pause to reflect on how much it really costs others who look or act or just live “different” in any way. A lot of times it even costs them their lives. And so while I am feeling, really feeling being different here in Florida as some locals throw stones and as some stand in my way of making a living for reasons unknown - or not - I am very lucky that being my most authentic self isn’t costing me anything else besides a job. A much needed and much anticipated job, but it’s just a job. Nothing more.

I sometimes run out of energy to be brave and authentic but I have to remind myself that others don’t have the choice to not be brave. It’s not that easy for others. It’s called survival. And so for them, for my son, and for me, I stay brave. I stay authentic.
Even when it costs me a meal.
But it’s just a meal.
That’s all.