Every year during Pride, I feel a deep sense of gratitude. Gratitude for those who paved the way to today, who endured the ostracizing, hate, violence, and death to be proud of who we are. Gratitude for Marsha P. Johnson, Dr. Rev. Pauli Murray, Gloria Anzaldúa, Edith Windsor, Aimee Stephens, and many more, far too many to name. I’m grateful they taught me pride in who I am and fought for our right to exist.

And gratitude for my community today. That we come together in protests and marches and parades and dinner parties and sitting together on the couch. Gratitude for our chosen families of fierce love, protection, and pride. Gratitude for the champagne at 11:00 am when the Supreme Court affirms our right, again, to exist. And gratitude for the fight and work and willingness to show up when those rights are threatened again, to remind the world that we are proud.

So for me, Pride is about being grateful to help create and love and show up in this community, through the pain, the loss, the wins, the love, and the pride. I’m grateful for who we are. And I’m proud, too.