I went into this planning on not telling anyone about it until it was safely over. I was afraid that people would be afraid for me. And even now that it’s over, I’m trying to figure out the best way to explain what it was like and what I learned from the experience. I started out giving a play-by-play retelling of the whole weekend, but realized that was both boring and pointless. So here’s my attempt to summarize the whole shabang.

No one should be afraid to attend Pride.

My hotel was a few blocks away from the festival grounds, so I made the trip several times. And I felt more awkward and strange ignoring the people on the street than I did walking around inside.

On the first evening I applied a temporary tattoo to my right hand, where even a long-sleeve shirt wouldn’t cover it up. I knew this would mean that I couldn’t hide it, even on Sunday at church. And I wanted it to be that way. So far back home the most “out” I was had to do with a yellow silicone bracelet most people assumed was “Live Strong” or the occasional T-shirt. I talk a lot online, but I never really show anything out in public. And I’m not the kind of person that goes around vogueing, but I wanted to be able to walk confidently down the street, despite knowing that anyone who saw me could easily identify that part of me.

Seeing so many other attendees helped out. I don’t know if it was just the special weekend, but I saw more same-sex couples holding hands or kissing (outside the festival itself) this weekend than I ever did in Europe the whole 4 months. I assumed that they could identify me as I walked by, so without any spoken interaction, there was an understanding between us.

The festival is a celebration of individuality. It’s a place where everyone is allowed to express themselves as they wish without facing the harsh judgements of people who do not understand. The LGBTQ+ community is large enough that we don’t all understand every corner, but we accept the reality and beauty of diversity. Every one there was just trying to have a good time.

I only saw a few protesters, outside the entrance and in one place along the parade route. Signs trying to shame or frighten us. I feel sad whenever I see any kind of protest using tactics like this. If someone is concerned for my eternal soul, I would rather they say it from an angle of “repent and live” than “burn in hell.” Flies and honey, people. Honestly…

My biggest mistake was going alone. This is a festival like any other, and three days is a little too much if you aren’t spending it with friends. And with that in mind, I probably won’t go for the full weekend again unless I can make plans with others. But I do want to come again. Considering my normal weekend plans, this was a lot better than spending the whole time playing video games.

The Parade

This morning I packed my church clothes and headed up the street to where the parade would begin. I planned to walk directly from the parade to church and change into my Sunday clothes along the way. I knew my camera battery was well charged and I had room on the memory card for at least 400 pictures.

After seeing the booths and people at the festival the two days before, nothing about the parade surprised me. There were floats for the understandable things like PLFAG, the Trevor Project, and different support and community groups. But there were also companies (like eBay, Delta, American Express) and political candidates. I found these the most amusing booths at the festival, and the fact that many of their floats were larger than the “real” LGBT floats just tickles me so much.

I was stationed right at the beginning of the parade route, and arrived early enough that if it weren’t for the little children I would’ve had an unhindered vantage point from which to take pictures and gather loot. As it was I got a few multicolored bead necklaces, a rainbow silicone bracelet, some stickers, and hopefully plenty of good photos (I won’t know until I get back home to my computer).

As the parade was winding down, I was tempted to leave early, but I’m glad I stayed. As the very last item in the parade, they carry a very large (like at least 600 square feet) pride flag. People can throw money onto the flag to donate, so I threw some cash on. But then I realized that I needed to walk a few blocks east anyway, so I jumped in and took one of the open handholds along the side of the flag and helped to carry it along the whole parade route, past the protestors yelling at us, past cheering people with hands outstretched for high-fives, past children and seniors, in sun and shade, until the end.

Carrying the flag didn’t suddenly mean I felt accepted or understood. I didn’t feel anything emotional about the experience. But I was happy to do it. It was fun, interesting, and a little empowering. It was a good summary of the festival as a whole.

Church

The day wasn’t over. After we set down the flag I looked up directions to the meetinghouse I had found the night before. It was only a few blocks north, so carrying the flag took care of half the hike in the most interesting way.

I was still dressed in my beads and “Love Conquers Hate” T-shirt, so I went into a bathroom and changed into the white shirt and tie I brought with me, then sat down in the chapel to cool down and rest.

There was a small choir practicing, but before they finished they asked me if I wanted to sing with them. I told them I wasn’t even part of the ward, but they pulled me in anyway and I sung a few verses with them.

Several people walked up to me before the meetings began to ask about me, where I was from, and if I was moving into the ward. I openly told them I was there for Pride. I couldn’t very well hide my rainbow bracelet or equality tattoo. This unnerved no one, and I never felt shunned.

Being the first Sunday of the month, members have the opportunity to get up and share their testimonies during the main meeting. After the first speaker was finished I was surprised to find myself experiencing a long-lost feeling that I knew meant I should get up and speak. So after a little internal struggle I walked up to the podium.

I told everyone, then, that I was a visitor to the ward attending Pride. But instead of going into my long story I just told them all to read my blog (laughter, but I did give the address out to one person later). What I did end up sharing was a brief explanation of my recent quest to regain my testimony, and my simple testimony of the reality and Atonement of Jesus Christ and its power to change us and make us happy.

So after all that I come out a little sunburnt, a little more experienced, and a little happier.