I’ve been living in London now for almost four months. On the first or second Sunday I told my bishop about my same-sex attraction and he was interested in being supportive and talking with me about it. But I never got around to meeting with him until last night. We talked for just over an hour and I gave my basic introductory speech about my history and family. As we were running out of time he tried to start giving his thoughts and advice. One of the main points he wanted to stress was the idea of not focusing on one single aspect of my character, because there is so much more to any one person. I said I understood his concern, because in the time we had I was only able to talk about the surface-level things I was dealing with. I assured him that my life has become much more normal and less gay-focused. But it got me thinking and I wanted to write about the concept of “Gay Pride” and how it affects the way LGBTQ+ people are seen from the outside world.

Pride itself – as in the annual marches and gatherings – is a commemoration of the Stonewall riots in New York in 1969. Those riots marked a shift in how the LGBT community saw itself and how it fought for equal protection under the law. Previous decades of effort to overthrow discriminatory laws and secure human rights were fought by men and women who generally tried to show a “respectable” and “normal” view of gays and lesbians. This ignored the drag queens and other people who didn’t try to hide or assimilate. In the wake of the riots people caught the rebellious fire and many new and more radical activist organizations were formed. People now found the courage to come out and be known for who they were. As the world slowly discovered in the following decades that their close friends and family belonged to the LGBTQ+ community, public opinion eventually changed and laws were enacted to protect them.

So pride marches are festivals of diversity, where people can gather to celebrate what makes them different, and what brings them together. It makes sense, then, that from the outside the LGBTQ+ community may appear to be filled with people who define themselves wholly by one aspect of their identity. But when you get past the bright colors and rainbow flags, we know we’re more than our labels.

In the first year or two that I was figuring out this newly discovered part of myself, it was the main thing I thought about in my spare time. It was the dominant concern on my mind, because it was a discovery that fundamentally changed how I see myself and the world. So naturally it leaked into how I presented myself and interacted with other people. But in time I settled down. I stopped worrying so much, so it stopped forcing its way into my social life.

But I still have my rainbow flags. Every day I wear a yellow bracelet from Voice(s) of Hope. On my social media profiles and the “About Me” page on my website I openly confess my sexuality. I keep a public blog where the majority of posts relate to some aspect of LGBT culture. Many of my YouTube subscriptions are to LGBT creators.

My sexuality has leaked into many other parts of my life. Not because I feel like it defines or limits me or my potential, but because there is something exciting and empowering about belonging to this new culture. Growing up I never felt very connected to the outside world. But now I have this shared experience with people from around the globe. I’ve become more empathetic and understanding of people who are different. I’ve gained a deeper love for those who are misunderstood. I’ve learned more about myself.

So yeah, I’m proud. This is a part of me and it will be for the rest of my life. And that’s just the way I like it.