5 years ago, I learned Pride.

Excited, anxious, terrified. I was waiting for my Tinder date at the bar at Joey’s Yorkdale. I kept looking at the door breathless. The bartender made small talk - I think she knew I was nervous. A beautiful girl approached me “Hey, are you Kevin?” I don’t even remember if I said a word, or just shook my head no. The bartender laughed “You should have said yes,” she said. Ready to bail, I texted my best friend Tif, needing her to push me in the right direction. She always does. Deep breath. I look to the door. And there he was. I was now on my first date with a man.

°.°.°

I reflect often on that time in my life - when I learned who I am. But it didn’t start with smiles and fanfare. For a long time, I was self-loathing. I felt like I was lying to myself, my family, and my friends. If you’ve met me, you know I’m an open book. But I was hiding that chapter from myself. I formed relationships with people hoping to find the version of myself I thought others wanted me to be. It was killing me.

I talk forever about community, and the people that we surround ourselves with. Tif at the time was a critical part of my community. She was the only person who knew what I was dealing with at the time; she was my life line. Without her, maybe I would have stood up and left that bar. I certainly wouldn’t have been able to pick myself up off the floor when I got home that night and cried.

Love drives us. It drove me to discover who I am, and it drove Tif to support me in coming out. Support like that is what helps us self-identify, and find the courage to be proud of who we are. Slowly, I started to share my secret with my community. Looking back, I was certainly confused. I was projecting my fears on others. I was looking to be the person I thought they wanted me to be. Look at your own communities. You’ve included these people in your life because they support your decisions and love you no matter what. So when standing up and proclaiming what love means to you, why would they ever do anything but support you? Who my community wants me to be is myself.

I have an uncle who, when he learned I am gay, said “we’re here to love each other, not judge each other.” I believe that to my core. My community - my family, my friends, my colleagues, my couples - we are here to love one another. We are here to support one another. I can’t imagine who I would be today if it wasn’t for all of them. Because if I didn’t have them, I wouldn’t know love. And I wouldn’t feel safe being myself. I wouldn’t have Pride in the man I’ve become. Thanks to my community, I am happy. Thanks to my community, I love who I am.

.°.°.

We left the restaurant, 5 years ago today, and went for a walk. It was snowing so softly. We stopped under a lamp post, I turned to Albert and said “here goes nothing”. And we kissed.

There was no spark between us.

But I never felt more alive.

“How falling in Love is like owning a dog” by Taylor Mali

First of all, it’s a big responsibility,

especially in a city like New York.

So think long and hard before deciding on love.

On the other hand, love gives you a sense of security:

when you’re walking down the street late at night

and you have a leash on love

ain’t no one going to mess with you.

Because crooks and muggers think love is unpredictable.

Who knows what love could do in its own defense?

On cold winter nights, love is warm.

It lies between you and lives and breathes

and makes funny noises.

Love wakes you up all hours of the night with its needs.

It needs to be fed so it will grow and stay healthy.

Love doesn’t like being left alone for long.

But come home and love is always happy to see you.

It may break a few things accidentally in its passion for life,

but you can never be mad at love for long.

Is love good all the time? No! No!

Love can be bad. Bad, love, bad! Very bad love.

Love makes messes.

Love leaves you little surprises here and there.

Love needs lots of cleaning up after.

Somethimes you just want to get love fixed.

Sometimes you want to roll up a piece of newspaper

and swat love on the nose,

not so much to cause pain,

just to let love know Don’t you ever do that again!

Sometimes love just wants to go out for a nice long walk.

Because love loves exercise. It will run you around the block

and leave you panting, breathless. Pull you in different directions

at once, or wind itself around and around you

until you’re all wound up and you cannot move.

But love makes you meet people wherever you go.

People who have nothing in common but love

stop and talk to each other on the street.

Throw things away and love will bring them back,

again, and again, and again.

But most of all, love needs love, lots of it.

And in return, love loves you and never stops.

From “The Velveteen Rabbit” by Margery Williams

“What is REAL?” asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. “Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?”

“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.”

“Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit.

“Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. “When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.”

“Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,” he asked, “or bit by bit?”

“It doesn’t happen all at once,” said the Skin Horse. “You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”

“I suppose you are real?” said the Rabbit. And then he wished he had not said it, for he thought the Skin Horse might be sensitive. But the Skin Horse only smiled.

“Someone made me real,” he said. “That was a great many years ago; but once you are Real you can’t become unreal again. It lasts for always.”

William Niholson’s original illustration