Our Pride Stories Deserve to be Told
Coming Out Stories During Pride Month
It’s never too late for a new beginning.
Suzette Mullen
When ’s Tiny Love Story came across my feed recently, I found it amazing how similar our stories were.
I too was 56 when I came out. I also left a 27-year marriage and a life of heterosexual privilege. Suzette and I both went to our first Pride events with an adult child. I submitted my tiny love story to the New York Times in May 2021. The New York Times published her tiny love story in December 2021.
Suzette’s 2021 tiny love story was the kernel that became her memoir, The Only Way Through is Out, published by the University of Wisconsin Press on February 13, 2024. That’s where our stories differ.
I started writing my memoir in 2018 to be the book I would have wanted to read when I was struggling to make sense of my life. I finally finished it in February and am waiting to hear back on my agent query.
And the results of my New York Times submittal? Here’s the rest of that story…
After 2020 pandemic breakups in Michigan, my daughter and I moved to North Dakota where I was born and raised. I knew the state had become deeply conservative since Donald Trump won the state by a margin of more than 35 points during the 2016 presidential election. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea, especially since my father had passed on two years earlier. But I’d be retiring to the snowbird life in a year and Daisy wanted to be near family.
Coming from covid locked-down Michigan with refrigerator trucks parked outside hospitals to a place where hardly anyone wore a mask was a culture shock. Where I was connected to a large LGBT community in Metro Detroit, I was unable to find that in Bismarck. I had to resort to dating apps just to meet like-minded online friends in neighboring states.
The following May, the LGBTQ advocacy group Dakota Outright, announced they were resuming Pride events. I was surprised they were having it on the grounds of the state capitol in this red state. The 20-year-old non-profit had just received a Humanitarian Award from the City of Bismarck, so I was hopeful but not sure what to expect.
I’ve attended Pride events large and small since coming out in 2011. Many young folks live closeted lives because they fear being estranged from their family. So, prior to the event, I signed up to work at the Free Mom Hugs booth. An organization of love, visibility and acceptance for the LGBTQIA+ community, Free Mom Hugs was founded in 2015 by Sara Cunningham, a Christian mother from Oklahoma.
I also heard a local bakery was having a 100-word Pride Story contest. I took the essay I had been working on for the New York Times “Modern Love” column, condensed it to 100 words, and submitted it on the bakery website.
Prizes were to be awarded for first, second, and third places.
Then I submitted my 100-word Pride story to the New York Times for “Tiny Love Story” consideration.
Pride is important because someone tonight still believes they are better off dead than being themselves.
Sterling Graves
The day finally dawned.
Capital Pride was on.
My daughter and I brought lawn chairs and set them up in the shade of a leafy tree with a clear view to the capitol steps where a drag show was scheduled later in the day. About 30 booths from non-profit agencies, banks, and the local library were set up at the top of the horseshoe drive near the steps of the capitol.
Once Pride started, hundreds of people attended. High schoolers were holding hands, celebrating and soaking in the ability to be themselves in public. There were few older attendees and those I spotted tried not to meet anyone’s eyes, walking by quickly.
I was glad to see the number of moms volunteering at the Free Mom Hugs both. I gave free Grandma hugs.
Leaving the Free Mom Hugs booth, I walked over to the booth of Dakota Outright, the non-profit that organized the Pride event. While chatting with the staff, a young person came up saying they were a questioning queer. The young person paused after the staff answered their questions.
"Looks like you need a mom hug," I said.
"I need a lot of them," they said.
"I see you. I hear you. I value your presence in this world," I said as I gave them a good, welcoming hug.
They walked away with tears in their eyes.
Nothing moved me more than 2021 Capital Pride.
I could not have imagined it being held on the grounds of the North Dakota State Capitol in Bismarck, North Dakota. The town I grew up and fled from, finally felt welcoming…and the rainbow cloud over the festivities seemed to confirm that.
During Pride, I kept waiting to hear the emcee talk about the Pride stories. Maybe even one or two people would read their stories.
Crickets…
There was no public acknowledgement of any of the stories.
I eagerly looked for news about the wonderful pride event in the local newspaper the next week.
Crickets…
The more days that passed, the more pissed I got. After a week of not seeing any coverage, I wrote the following Letter to the Editor of the Bismarck Tribune:
Dakota Outright, recipient of a 2021 Bismarck Humanitarian Award, held a Capital Pride celebration last Saturday attended by hundreds. I was disappointed to see no coverage of this wonderful event in the Bismarck Tribune.
During Pride Month, a local bakery held a 100-word Pride Story contest with prizes for first, second, and third places. Stories were submitted. Prizes were awarded. There was, however, no publication of the stories.
It’s time for our stories to be told, for we are your daughters, your sons, sisters, brothers, your mothers, fathers, and yes, even grandparents. My military related coming out story was published Wednesday on The War Horse.
This is my 100-word personal coming out story:
“I’m Proud of My Gay Daughter”
said the pin I wore to my first pride event.
At 16, Daisy came out as bisexual in 2001.
Five years later, she dated a woman.
I worried for her career and safety.
Five years after that, I came out.
I had to start over…again.
When I broke the news,
Daisy tucked me under her wing.
At 56, I’d lived in many closets.
If Daisy hadn’t come out, I wouldn’t have either.
And that pin I wore to the 2011 Motor City Pride?
Daisy wore one that said
“I’m Proud of My Lesbian Mom.”For those of you questioning the need for Pride events, I offer you this. As one who has traveled both paths, it’s not easy to go against family and societal expectations, risking all to live your truth.
All anyone wants in this world is to love and be loved.
The morning of June 30, 2021, I received an email from the Bismarck Tribune saying they scheduled my letter to run in the “next few days.” That afternoon, I received an email from the New York Times Modern Love Projects Editor saying they would like to publish my piece in a future column.
Oh snap!
I tried to reach out to the Bismarck Tribune, but they printed my letter the next day, July 1st. Because it had already been published online, the New York Times opted to not publish it.
I was glad to have my voice heard locally. Our Pride stories need to be told, whatever the venue. So, let's keep telling them…in colorful parades and whispered secrets, on busy streets and flickering screens. Let's paint the world with the colors of our truth, one story at a time. Because in the end, it's these stories, big and small, that lead to a more inclusive and understanding world.
Owning our story and loving ourselves through that process is the bravest thing we’ll ever do.”
Brene Brown
So great to hear your story - I can't wait to read your book!! Keep us posted!
It is so important that particularly in places that are restrictive that Pride events take place - and not just once a month - every month is Pride month - for us all whatever our sexuality/identity
Humanity is so rich a varied - something to be celebrated.