I convinced one of my friends to go with me to Copenhagen Pride this year. At first she was all “hell no, I’m too shy,” but before I knew it, she was really into it and planning when and how and where, so all I had to do was sit back and follow her.
That turned out to be a good thing, because I gotta admit, so soon after Gishwhes, I am kind of reaching my “people” limit. I can feel my head imploding every time I have to deal with people these days, and I will probably have to disappear for a while at some point, to reset me. You know, well… I’ve done that before. Anyway. The point is, I would not have gone to pride if it hadn’t been for my friend.
With the recent terror attacks, I did consider the risk of going as well. What if some jackass were to drive a car through the crowd? What if I was kissing my horses goodbye for the last time that morning?
And I knew, the second I thought that, that this was why I was going. Because fuck you world, I will not live my life in fear. If I do, those who hate me have already won. I guess I found that one thing I will still fight for. My right to be exactly who I am.
I will say, there was a lot of police at the parade, and I mean a LOT. The open space where the show was, after the parade, was almost completely blocked off by armed cars. I don’t think a lot of people noticed though. I look at the strangest things. Also, I always had a problem with authorities, so it felt kind of strange that the police was there, protecting me all of a sudden…
I do feel ambivalent about the whole thing, to be honest. The police, the parade, the show. I know I am in an over thinking things kind of mode these days, but still.
Okay, so the parade was super great. I love seeing the people spending an entire day walking the streets of Copenhagen, dressed up and having fun.
I loved seeing how many political parties were there, (even if some of them felt kind of forced,) and how many sponsored wagons showed up.
I know that support is a good thing, and that companies and political parties openly supporting LGBT rights is good, but there is still a part of me that feels that they are just riding the latest trend. “It’s hip, these days, to support the gays. Let’s do it, this one week a year, right?”
I don’t know. Shut up, Veronica. It was great. Don’t question everything.
Loved this girl, BTW…
We walked with the parade for a while, and my friend actually said that she was up for going next year, either for our political party, or Amnesty International. I think that could be pretty cool, and also give us a reason to be there, other than to just be on display as part of a freak show.
Like I said, I feel sorta strange about the parade. I love how people get to dress up and do whatever the fuck they want for a day, but I am not sure I love how they, we, are displayed as animals in a circus, with tons of people staring and taking pictures. Me, with my Rainbow Dash hair, I had almost every photographer we came by, take a picture of me, and I don’t mind. Knock yourself out, really.
But… The whole point of this LGBT rights thing is… That we are just people, right? No matter who we love or how we dress, we are humans, like everyone else. Right?
I even heard one of the girls tell one of the guys that on this one day, he wasn’t a freak, and this was how it should be everyday, right?
I know that she meant well, but I could feel myself dying inside when she said it, because… Is that how he sees himself? As a freak?
Isn’t the parade kind of feeding that notion, then? I don’t know. I guess I’m an expert at finding negative sides to everything. Never mind. Moving on. Maybe.
Now, the girl I went with, was one of the girls from my Gishwhes team. We actually don’t know each other that well. We have met like, 4 times, for Gishwhes, and other than that, we have only talked to each other on twitter, even though we live pretty close to each other.
We met one of the zumba instructors from my gym, and his friend, on the train station on the way to Copenhagen, and ended up tagging along with them, meeting one of the girls from his zumba class and her friend, once we got there.
My Gishwhes buddy met up with another SPN friend at the parade, and I even convinced my sister to join us for a brief moment, since she lives in Copenhagen. All in all, I spent most of the day hanging out with 7 people, none of whom I really know at all. (My sestra and I have met maybe 10 times tops. Long story.)
I guess its pretty easy to take these kinds of pictures, and don’t get me wrong, I like all these guys, and it was super great going with them, sharing this moment in history with them, and it didn’t hit me until my friend said to me that “you know everybody!”
But I…. Don’t? I don’t know any of you, really? And I am choosing that, aren’t I? I could have asked anyone to go with me to pride, why did I pick a girl I’ve met 4 times?
Because I knew she would have fun and that she wouldn’t go unless I asked her? Maybe. Because I wanted to get to know her better? Perhaps. Because I feel safe, when people don’t know me?
I guess sometimes you have to look at your own reflection in an empty train, late at night and wonder about the choices you make.
And the truth is, the very few people who do know me, or at least, know me better than these guys, would not have gone to pride with me, because they have kids by now, and grown up lives, and here I am… Taking pictures of people taking selfies at pride… On my cell phone, because my camera died, so I don’t even have the “photographer” excuse.
Gotta love his shirt, right? Although that horse looks pretty much like Ablaze… 😛
And the best part of the trip was still when a little girl on the train recognized my hair and called me Rainbow Dash. That’s right, I’m never growing up. My Little Ponies rock.
Just accept your weird, Veronica. That is what Pride is all about, isn’t it?