It’s that time of year, the month-long celebration of pride and the festivities and parades that go with it. Like it or not, it’s out there. It’s sometimes loud, unapologetic, and hard to miss. It can be personal and something that doesn’t need to be shouted from the rooftops or it can be boisterous and filled with emotion. Or it can be somber as we remember people who’ve left us too soon.

Pride is something that can be beneficial for all humans in small measures, but what does it really mean and why does it feel like it is more important to some of us? How do we control it and use it for our benefit without being too strident and inauthentic?

As The Happiness Warrior, I believe that pride is a form of joyous rebellion. A sense of freedom that tells us when we’ve had enough and know that we deserve to live a state of self-esteem and satisfaction. Pride is the satisfaction of who we are and what we’ve become. Pride is the life we live when we reach the other side. When we’ve faced our demons and come out whole. When we are living in an authentic state of being in alignment with our truth. It’s universal in its simplicity and yet an unnecessary struggle for so many. Why can’t we live without fear of who we really are? What’s stopping us other than ourselves?

When I was a kid I knew I was different. From my earliest memories being ordinary and trying to fit in was a daily struggle that often left me confused and feeling disconnected. Through trial and error, I learned which actions would please others and those that would only cause me scorn and shame. I quickly learned to modify my behavior and words to keep myself feeling safe to please others. My father was a charmer with an emotionally abusive nature who was constantly telling me that I was in the way or how I didn’t measure up to other boys that he admired. I worshiped him and loathed his behavior which was mirrored in our father-son bond.

At school I had friends who made me feel sort of normal, but I always knew that deep down I would never fit in. Despite my internal battles, I was able to find happiness on my own and never felt like there was anything wrong with me. I might have been smiling at times and appeared able to just barely fit in, but in truth I always felt I was watching my life as an observer.

When I was around nine or ten I remember playing with my Lego’s in a quiet corner of our basement recreation room. This is where my father and his best friend Gary spent much of their free time hanging out together drinking beer and bragging about their conquests.

Gary was an ex-marine. He was short, mustached, over perfumed (for the ladies), strutting around like a peacock. He always appeared to be anxious about displaying visible signs of hyper-heterosexuality.  He displayed an aggressive and lecherous attitude towards women which was hard to stomach. My grandmother openly speculated with a hint of truth that he and my father were secretly lovers.

Most of his stories were exaggerated tales of misogynistic womanizing, but there was one that he loved to repeat which chilled me to the bone. A story that made me want to run away, shrink, and disappear. Gary was a drinker and a bit of a sociopath, his favorite stories involved harassing women or targeting gay men to brutally assault them with fists and baseball bats. I remember him laughing at how much fun he had. From his voice and tone these feats were high points in his life. In his way of thinking they made him a manlier man.

Gary’s stories about him beating up gay men or “fa*@ts” as he called them made me feel anxious, ashamed, and guilty. At the age of ten I didn’t yet understand anything about anyone’s sexuality, especially mine. All I knew was that my survival depended on carefully hiding who I was, and I would forever have to choose my words carefully. At that age I knew that life would always be a battle even if I couldn’t yet define who I was.

My father was much the same as Gary, just as lecherous without the violence. He was the kind of man that would ogle and comment on other women in front of his wife in the car. He would say things about gay people that were dehumanizing and cruel. He would tell me that no son of his would be gay which made me want to disappear and hide even further.

Over the years I quietly listened without saying a word. I heard the fear in their voices and knew they were overcompensating. There was something in their undertone that always left me wondering. What were they so unhappily trying to avoid and run from?

I wouldn’t figure out my sexuality until my college years and even then I was confused and unhappy. I was afraid to speak the truth and knew that I was carrying a shameful and dangerous secret. For so many men and women of my time, this societal prejudice of violence and hatred was the beginning of years of self-loathing and destructive behavior. How could we love or have pride in ourselves when we were so detested and vilified? 

The late nineteen seventies when I was growing up were a time of sexual liberation and the “me” generation. Birth control, a forgotten war, and gay rights had changed the landscape and suddenly people like me were more visible and demanding to be seen. I still wouldn’t admit to myself, but in the back of my mind I knew that the truth would prevail and that someday I would learn to like myself and live in authenticity. One thing is sure, a better life is always waiting for all of us on the other side. The first step forward will define our journey.

I would never admit it or say the word aloud and lived with a constant sense of shame and embarrassment for not living in my truth and being open with who I was. It felt wrong and made me vulnerable as I searched for my place in the world. My unease spilled over into my social life, and I began to run with a fast and dangerous crowd. We lived on the edge, sought greater thrills, and had many reckless endeavors. As crazy as it sounds there were days when it was amazingly fun.

For a time, it worked, and I was able to forget who I was and sought refuge from the conservative and judging values of my past. I still moved forward with my life and dreams but there was always something holding me back that made me feel unraveled and unsettled. There were many missed choices and opportunities because I didn’t fully believe in myself.

It took a lot of determination and struggle, I worked night and day, and somehow graduated college and went off into the world. At this point I was mostly out except for my family. My close friends knew my secrets, but I was still uncomfortable and nervous to reveal myself to my parents and some of my old friends. In my early career I was closeted at work and lived a double identity. I still didn’t know who the real me was and always lived in fear of discovery. Pride was an emotion that remained buried and forgotten.

Eventually the walls began to crumble, and I began the journey to discovering my authenticity. Sometimes, I feel like I fought it every step of the way but through many obstacles and difficult experiences I began to find myself and feel pride for who I was. I had defeated the great battle within myself. I began to walk with my head high and my skin thickened. I became tougher and learned how to fight back by style and example. I would learn to beat the detractors at their own game and show them how powerful I could be. I refused to give them a choice and altered their perceptions.

How we play the game of life is a lesson that all of us can choose. We can set our course on who we want to be and keep our hands on the steering wheel of the journey of life. We can raise our vibration and live in pride when we are free of self-defeating talk and negative emotions.

As The Happiness Warrior, I try to speak for every single one of us. No divisions, I don’t classify anyone, and I try to keep an open mind and heart. I have pride in myself for who I am and my ability to be understanding without judgment. I have pride in the life that I’ve managed to accomplish so far. I’ve been to the lowest places that a human can reach. I understand the power of self-love and reinvention. Pride is the belief in ourselves when others might have given up. It’s the lessons and quality of life when we are generous and able to forgive.

In this month of Pride, it’s important to think how far we’ve come and how far we have to go. Yes, I have pride, but I rarely think of it as a singular action. Pride is so much more meaningful when it’s shared in our collective happiness with others who display a similar mindset and attitude. We can learn to think freely and advocate for the acceptance of others.

We can all take pride in ourselves when we know the difference between living our lives for ourselves instead of others. Even more importantly we can raise our self-esteem and be the happiest and “perfect” versions of ourselves.

We’re in a new age where it's easier to be more visible and heard. Pride isn’t something that one group holds alone, but something that can join us together. We can all have more pride in our lives when we realize the connections in our lives that draw us together.

Happiness is greater when we feel our self-esteem rise and create more value for ourselves and others!