They were supposed to be safe.
The one place we could be us. Where we could hold hands and kiss without glares or unwarranted stares. The place where we could love openly without cruel whispers from those that judge us without even knowing who we are. A place we could dance without fear of being escorted out by security because ‘two boys dancing that close isn’t right’.
They were supposed to be safe.
The one place we didn’t have to think about the world outside; where we walk down the streets dodging physical assaults and insults like grenades. Where our younger selves hid because we didn’t know how our families would react to ‘loving wrong’. And when we did free ourselves from our own chains, afraid of who we would lose, we soon discovered who our true allies were in this world and where we asked ourselves why we didn’t come out sooner…
They were supposed to be safe.
A place where we could find like-minded people to grow our circle of friends and find someone that sees the true us. The real us. To love those we love not because ‘we want to hurt you’. Not because ‘it’s a phase’ but because love is love is love is love.
They were supposed to be safe.
So, when the place we feel safe – our church, our school, our home – is blown apart by the fears we try to lock out we feel a wave of fear, anger, loss wash over our community. With loss we come together and do what we’ve always done. We listen, love, and support one another and teach the world we are strong because when they see us united the world will change for the better.