OKC Pride 2025

I’ve been meaning to write about Pride for a few days now, but—well—life has been busy in that chaotic way it tends to be.

But wow. That’s really my honest reaction.

This year’s Pride felt like something out of a really good movie. In the middle of a red state—where sometimes you learn to keep parts of yourself tucked quietly away—it felt like the world cracked open and said, “You’re safe here.”

And it was. Safe, joyful, magical.

There was a dedicated area just for queer kids- And I can’t tell you how deeply that moved me. Parents, with wide eyes and open hearts, brought their little ones to watch drag queens perform with all the sparkle and sass in the world. In a world that’s often so heavy with hate, there was something wildly hopeful about seeing children welcomed into a space I would’ve never dared to imagine for myself as a kid.

For those of you who don’t know, I didn’t come out until I was 17. I grew up in a very religious household—one of those “black and white thinking” places where you’re either this or that, right or wrong, and there’s no room for the in between.

But coming out cracked everything open. In the best way.

The most beautiful thing I’ve learned since then is this:
Love is the center of the universe.

It doesn’t matter who you love, what you believe (or don’t), or how you show up in the world. It’s not my job—or anyone’s—to tell someone else who they’re allowed to be. If more people spent their lives trying to understand and accept instead of judge and divide, we wouldn’t need so many boxes, categories, or labels.

Funny enough, my best friends and I were talking about this the other day—we’d like to believe that one day, no one will have to “come out” anymore. You’ll just be, and love who you love, and that’ll be that.

I know that might feel controversial to some people, especially where I live. Even at Pride, that thought lingered in the back of my mind—how safe and normal it all felt to me, while somewhere not too far away, someone else would be ready to riot at the sight of two boys holding hands.

But you know what?

They missed it.
They missed the joy.
They missed the peace.

And we?
We danced in it.

Happy Pride. Be exactly who you are.