I am always gay.
I am always trans.
Yet it can often feel like I'm ignoring those core parts of myself.
The endless running and chaos of capitalistic existence mean I spend so much of my life just trying to make the next paycheck or running my hands through my hair, contemplating how everything costs so much. I want to just marinate in my gender. Stew in my lesbian identity. Yet the realities of being an adult in 2026 make that impossible. As I organize things for possibly moving out in a few months' time, that status quo is even more obvious and pervasive.
Perhaps I'm alone on an island regarding these specific feelings. Yet I can't be the only one overwhelmed by uncertainty and dread in everyday life. Every day, my social media feeds (namely on LinkedIn and Instagram) are filled with people sharing GoFundMe's or posts lamenting their financial/employment hunting hardships. We all need help. This is the inevitable end result of a society that's commodified all essential needs (medicine, water, shelter) to benefit the bourgeoisie. Minimum wage remains stagnant. Job opportunities for artists remain elusive. Yet prices for food, rent, and other vital parts of life annually skyrocket. This is a "balance" that can only create mental health turmoil.
Few of us in the working class have time to embrace the elements in our lives we most cherish. A world prioritizing people embracing and exploring their genders, sexualities, general interests, and all the corners of their lives would be a glorious one. It's also incompatible with a capitalistic society that creates trillionaires and billionaires. That much wealth can only emanate from exploitation.
How do we find solace from this horrific status quo? One way is through Pride Month.
Not, to be clear, through Target circa. 2017's definition of Pride Month. Jubilant parties and intense dancing in the name of queer self-acceptance are awesome in their own right. However, Pride started with the Stonewall Inn riots of 1969. This month and the entirety of queer activism are intertwined with liberation and the actions of Black LGBTQIA+ lives. Pride Month is about loudly reaffirming our existence, standing up to injustice, and uniting for causes bigger than just one queer person. These 30 days are about remembering the vast tapestry of queer lives every LGBTQIA+ individual is attached to. This community's past, present, and future are eternally nestled in all of us.
I'm writing this as reassurance to myself as well as any queer strangers stumbling onto these ramblings. Being in queer social spaces provides such miraculous joy. Unfortunately, eventually that residual wave of gender euphoria wears off. Suddenly, I'm alone in my apartment again. Defined only by my work, emails that will never get responded to, earning as much money as I can, or tasks I didn't finish in the preceding day. The realities of queer people "never being alone" I find so easy to type out or tell somebody else suddenly vanish from my brain when it's time to reassure myself that life is more than Tuesday morning anguish. What cruel irony, to have the words yet not have them resonate in your head.
I'm typing out all this after spending a lengthy section of my day crying. It's not an ideal way to wrap up Pride Month 2026, a collection of 30 days that left me with so many memories and exciting new experiences. Yet, today, I had so many challenges and bouts of self-doubt that the emotional dam shattered. My body capitulated to the vulnerability and sobbing. Now, with all those tears in the rearview mirror, my body's exhausted (a strenuous gym trip this morning doesn't help on the front). Naturally, the paradox of queer people never being alone, yet folks like myself struggling to internalize that reality, has lingered on my brain as I've recovered my bearings.
If anything's made me feel better while navigating an emotionally tumultuous day, it's remembering all the joys of Pride Month and the larger queer community. It's an honor to be in close proximity of amazing people who bring color, self-acceptance, and rich personalities into the world. Even on a day when I've felt hopelessness wash over me like a wave cresting on a beach, knowing amazing local queer people are out there gives me some solace. There is a larger world out there. Life offers more than the overwhelming, seemingly all-consuming tears and capitalistic obligations of everyday life. There is Pride Month and its essence fueling the LGBTQIA+ community year-round.
So come to me, emotional hardships! Break down my door, financial bullshittery! Do your worst, self-criticism and hatred! I have God, anime, and gays on my side. We are a community of resilience, of enduring against all odds. "They think we're getting tired, but we're only getting started!" to quote a wise Duke Nukem in a Christmas 2023 video. Chances are, if you've read this far into my emotionally jagged ramblings, you're also part of that wonderful LGBTQIA+ community and its history of standing firm in times of turmoil. I will endure this arduous final day of Pride Month 2026. You can make it through any hardships you're facing too. Best of all, neither of us does it alone in this community.
Not only are there queer people in every country on Earth, but the spirits of pivotal LGBTQIA+ legends (like Marsha P. Johnson, Sylvia Rivera, Harvey Milk, We'Wha, and so many others) persist. They're still here. Their actions, legacies, and stories are not vanishing. The world is better because they were here, and the same is true of any queer person. We cannot be contained in one month, even a glorious month like June. Just as my existence is not defined by a solitary day of tears and emotional uncertainty, so too does the Pride Month ambiance go beyond 30 days at the start of summer.
I am always gay.
I am always trans.
I always belong here. So do you.
Pride Month is over. It's just begun. It's always going.
These are truths that can never be eliminated.
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