Why Pride Still Matters

And Why This Post Hurts to Write

When someone you once knew from church sends you a message like this:

“Matt seriously?? You have reached a whole new disgusting level!! If you choose to be gay, then you be you dude… just keep the details to yourself! Is there any substance to your life besides being Gay! Is that all there is to your identity? Who puts out this disgusting book detailing gay porn?? I suppose you will write about how God is all for it! My heart goes out to your [family]!”

…it hurts.

This message was sent in response to my Pride post yesterday. It came from a woman I used to know through church. We weren’t best friends, but our families spent time together. When I came out, I never heard from her again. I reached out to others in her circle—people I was even closer to—and was met with silence.

I wasn’t surprised. I walked away. That kind of loss comes with the territory. Even so, it will always sting.

Honestly, this message is mild compared to others I’ve received. But I’m sharing it because too many LGBTQ+ people, especially those from faith communities, know exactly how this feels. And we don’t talk about it enough.

Once I got over the initial shock of her words, I sat with it. Looked beneath the surface. And what I saw, more than anything else, was this:

FEAR. (Hold that thought.)

She doesn’t understand. And she doesn’t seem to want to. That part is hers to own.

But the letter?
The word “disgusting”?
The accusations?

Those aren’t okay.

Also, the book detailing gay porn… listen, I’ve tried to write that, but I’m just not good at writing porn. (Just one light moment to get me through this—please and thank you.)

Now, here’s the nuance: if you met her, you’d likely describe her as sweet, gentle, and kind. And deep down, I still believe that’s who she is. It’s tempting to say, “When someone shows you who they are, believe them.” But I knew this woman. I’ve personally felt her love, care, and support. There’s complexity here, because this kind of harm doesn’t always come from hate.

Sometimes it comes from confusion. Or heartbreak.

But mainly, FEAR.

The fear is what I want to address.

So let’s name them:

Fear of Change and the Unknown

I stepped outside the narrative she was comfortable with—someone from her church, now living openly in a way she was taught to see as sinful. That shakes her sense of how the world works.

Fear of Challenging Her Beliefs

If someone she knew and respected is openly gay and thriving, she might have to reconsider what she’s believed her whole life. That kind of soul-work is hard.

Fear of “Social Contagion”

She mentioned my family. That reveals an old belief in some conservative circles that queerness is something that spreads. (Never mind I was around straight people my whole life and didn’t catch it.)

Fear of Her Own Inner Conflict

This isn’t always the case, but sometimes harsh reactions come from unresolved shame, trauma, or identity struggles. Seeing someone else live freely can stir that up.

Fear of Divine Judgment

Some people truly believe that affirming LGBTQ+ people puts their own salvation at risk—turning love into something dangerous.

Please remember, their reaction says more about their worldview than it does about you. And when that worldview feels threatened—especially by someone they once trusted—they may respond with control, condemnation, or cruelty, all in the name of “truth.”

That doesn’t make the behavior okay. But understanding what’s beneath it might help you decide: Do I want to engage with compassion here? Or is this fear so deeply rooted that it’s not mine to fix?

How to Hold Space for Your Pain (Without Carrying Theirs)

If you’ve received a message like this (or worse) here’s how I’ve learned to carry the pain without picking up their fear.

Name What’s Yours, and What’s Not

“Their fear is not mine. Their discomfort with my identity is not my responsibility. Their anger does not define my worth.” Say this out loud. Repeat it when you need. Letting go of emotional ownership is the first step in protecting your heart.

Validate Your Own Grief

This hurts because it came from someone who once showed you kindness. Maybe even love. That’s grief, and it’s real. Let yourself feel it.

Fortify Your Worth

The woman who sent the message attacked my identity, my work, even my role as a father. These are sacred parts of me.

I am whole. I am good. I am a loving father. I am not disgusting. I am human.

Plant those reminders in your soul. Water them as needed.

Honor What It Cost AND What You Gained

Coming out in a religious space takes courage. Some people will walk away. But the freedom, honesty, and self-respect you gain? That’s everything. Be grateful for it. You earned it. Good on you.

Choose the Energy You Carry Forward

You don’t need to fix them. You don’t need to prove anything. You just need to keep becoming the person you’re meant to be.

THE FURTHER YOU WALK IN THAT DIRECTION, THE QUIETER THEIR VOICES BECOME.

Their fear is not mine to carry. Their judgment is not mine to absorb. Their discomfort with my identity does not make it shameful.

Yes, I am gay. Yes, I write honestly. And no—that is not the whole of who I am. I am also a father. A friend. A man trying to live with integrity and love. I’m proud of who I’m becoming.

To anyone wondering why Pride still matters:

This is why. Because too many of us are still getting messages like this. Because shame still gets disguised as “truth.” Because fear still wears the mask of “faith.” Because love—real love—still needs to be louder.

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for sitting with my story.

For anyone who still needs to hear it:

You are not disgusting.
You are not broken.
You are not alone. 🌈

Matt