Opposite of pride

I been trying to figure out how to even say this without sounding like I’m tripping over my own feet, which honestly is kinda how I write anyway, so maybe that fits. I’m 27, a guy, and for two years I been with this wonderfull dude who is so completely, wholeheartedly, intensly aligned with everything "pride." Like he waves the flag, he quotes activists like “Love is not a crime,” he goes to events, he paints tiny rainbows on plant pots for fun, and he does all that stuff with this sweet energy that should make me feel lifted but instead sometimes it just makes me shrink. Not because I don’t love him, God, I do, but because I don’t assume my gayness. I feel like I’m the opposite of pride, like a walking “don’t look at me” sign, and I wonder if anyone else ever sits in a room full of cheering people and thinks: “Is it okay that I’m scared?” He’ll smile at me in that soft way, and I keep thinking, I wish I could smile back bigger; The thing is, I wasn’t raised to be open about anything. My family doesn’t hate gay people or whatever, but it was this strange “we don’t talk about emotions” house, and I guess I inhaled all that silence like dust. So when my boyfriend says stuff like, “We should go to Pride this summer,” I can’t help panicing a little. But I wanna be polite, I wanna be a good partner, so I try to say yes even if my voice cracks. One time we were holding hands at a bus stop and this kid smiled at us, and he said it was beautifull, but I thought my heart was gonna jump out my mouth like some cartoon. Still, I’m trying, and maybe that’s something. I keep telling myself hope is a slow-growing thing, like those stubbron plants that only bloom once a year. Do you think it’s possible to love someone with your whole chest but still fear the space your love takes up in the world? Because that’s exactly where I’m standing, like on the edge of something I wanna want more confidentley. My boyfriend says I’ll get there "when I’m ready," and maybe he’s right. I’m not proud, but I’m not hopeless eitherr 🙂

Anyway, the second thing I wanted to talk about, and please don’t judge how messy this is because I warned you I’m a terrible writter, is how sometimes the simplest moments make me feel like maybe I’m changing without noticing. Like we were in the kitchen last week, burning pancackes because neither of us knows how to multitask, and he said, “Hey, you know I don’t love you because you’re proud. I love you because you’re you.” And I swear something in me cracked open but in a good way. It reminded me of that line in a book I read once, “Courage is just fear that has said its prayers,” which felt weirdly fitting even though I’m not religous. I told him about how I still feel like hiding sometimes, and he said he does too, which surprised the hell outta me because he always looks so steddy. I’m trying to hold on to that thought: even the proud ones get scared. Maybe being the opposite of pride doesn’t mean being broken, maybe it just means being in proggress. I try to take small steps: letting him kiss me in public when no one’s around, talking about my feelings even if the sentences come out crookedd, trying to breathe through the panic instead of shoving it down. And I wanna be polite to myself too, which I’m learning is harder than being polite to other people. So here I am, asking you, any of you reading, do you think someone like me can someday stand next to someone like him without feeling like I’m a shadow next to a fire? I’m hopeful. I really am. Even if my hope still feels like a begginer...

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