Reflections on Pride

For this blog, instead of sharing my own reflections, I wanted to hand the keyboard to someone whose voice matters deeply to me. My daughter has her own story, her own experiences, and her own perspective. What follows are her words.

My name is Savannah Hairl, and I am 29 years old. I am a teacher, a musician, a gardener, a huge nerd, a friend, a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a wife, and a lesbian. All of these titles are important pillars of who I am, but that last one has been something that has taken me a long time to figure out how it fits in with the rest of me. I spent my young life trying to hide that part of me, and a portion of my adult life defining myself almost entirely by it. My mom asked me to write something for pride month and tell "my story." I have often found myself feeling imposter syndrome in moments where I'm asked to speak or write about being gay as I feel like I haven't truly struggled in the ways so many other have. I feel a great deal of privilege to be born when I was and to have the support that I have, because I know things could have been so much worse for me. But as I get older, I have learned that my being gay isn't defined by the amount of hardship or pain that I've felt. It isn't a competition in who had it worse. I can tell my story, and it isn't lesser or unimportant because it isn't all pain. I don't want to just talk about all the ways being gay was hard, because it was, but it also taught me a lot about myself, and I'd rather focus on that.

I came out pretty young, around age 11 or 12. I spent a lot of that time terrified to express myself outside of boxes and walls that society and I put up for myself. I hated dresses, I never wanted to wear make-up, and I did not want to do anything with my hair aside from brushing it. I felt more comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt. But when awards ceremonies or band concerts came around, I would put myself in a dress. I would let my friends do my make-up, or curl my hair. I wanted to look nice and formal, and I didn't feel like there was any other way for me to do that as a girl. I never liked the things that I felt like girls were "supposed" to like. As I got into high school, I started resenting and actively pushing against things that I considered to be girly at all. At some point I convinced myself that being gay and being feminine didn't work together. I overcompensated, after feeling so ashamed for so long, and felt like being gay meant that I had to be loudly proud, and vocal all the time. Looking back, it was honestly as exhausting as trying to hide it. It wasn’t until I became an adult that I really started to be myself. I couldn't tell you a defining moment or a definite shift, but at some point, I just stopped caring about what other people thought about me, and I stopped putting restrictions on myself. I attribute a lot of that to my wife, who has always made me feel like the prettiest person in the room, whether I was wearing a dress, or a full suit. She has always encouraged me to just do whatever makes me feel comfortable. I've learned that I can wear suits and make up. I can love the color pink and date women. I can play video games and love rom coms. I can cut my hair short and no one cares.

As I am getting closer to the age my parents were when I came out, I feel like I understand them in a different way. They have always been my biggest advocates, and they always made me feel like I could and should be myself. I never saw fear from them or any indication that I should shy away from who I am. I joke with my mom often about her always "waving the flag" and being the first to tell people that her daughter is gay and exactly how she feels about if they have a problem with it, but truly she has never given me any reason to think that I am anything but perfect exactly as I am. I think back now and both my parents must have been horrified and scared constantly. I don't have any kids of my own, but I have a nephew I love more than life, and young adults and teenagers who I care for deeply. Many of these kids are gay and I do my best to support them within my role and let them know that they can be exactly who they are. I urge them to be proud, and to not hide who they are, and it is terrifying. I worry about how their peers or other adults treat them when I'm not around to advocate for them. I worry how their home life is, and especially how the world will treat them once they graduate. I cannot imagine how it must have been for my mom and dad to tell their 12 year old to be proud, stand up for themselves, and how nothing about them is wrong, then have to send them into the world knowing it would tell them otherwise. Having to watch me go off to college and worry, not just the normal amount because I'm their child, not just extra because I'm a woman, but I'm also gay. I am so grateful that they didn't let their fears hold me back. That they never stopped pushing me to be proud and to love myself, despite how scary it must how been. I strive every day to be that person for the young people in my life, and I owe every bit of who I am to the example they set for me.

Truthfully, I love the life I have now. I won't pretend like things are perfect. I've met some really cruel people. I live in East Texas in a small conservative town. I am still scared to hold my wives hand at Walmart, and I don't make a point to scream about my gayness from the rooftops. But I have good people in my corner. I have a family who has always loved me and made me feel like I was perfect throughout every stage of figuring myself out. Friends who have stood by me and always supported me. A wife who loves me in a way that I never thought I'd find. I have a job that feels me with so much joy and allows me to be the safe space and an advocate for young people like I wish I had. I wouldn't be the person I am today without the people who kept me going when things were really hard, and I am eternally grateful for them.

If you take anything away from this blog I hope it is this; be yourself. There is no right way to be, it's your life and you get to decide how to live it. Love the people around you, and I promise you will learn that you are a lot more the same then you are different. No matter what stage you are in your life, whether you are 29, or 50, it is never too late to grow, to change your mind, and to choose kindness and love. Happy Pride month, and to quote my amazing mom, I'll end this by telling you what she told me almost every day of my senior year, and many times after that, "Don't forget to be awesome."

With Love and Pride, Savannah