She’s a straight white suburban woman in her fifties. She says, Pride month can fuck right off. You can call her Karen but her tattoos would disagree. You can call her a bigot too. You already have. And a Terf—that pathetic made-up term. She’s not radical. And only feminist as far as equal pay. The right to vote. To have a bank account and a credit card. You know, basic civil rights. The same things gay and lesbian people wanted—and received. But now… Pride is… Pride is corporations and children and paraphilias and corruption…
And in the basement of a once harmonious home, this mother’s seventeen year old daughter is decorating her jean jacket with patches and little paintings, so she can wear it to the parade in their city. It has rainbows and that awful pedophilic trans flag. It showcases her pronouns: “HE/THEY,” code for straight white girls who bought the lie that straight white girls are evil devil oppressors. Their kindness begs allowance into the TQIA+ glittery sanctum, the elite hole of horrors, tunnel of anti-love.
So a movement that started out sane, got overrun by narcissists and sociopaths, and billionaires gathered them all up in their sweaty bespoke suited arms and this little girl — a gorgeous, innocent little girl got caught in their net. A dolphin snared with the tuna.
And her mother prays to a god she used to say didn’t exist and every day she says, God show me you’re real. And she counts her blessings as you are supposed to do, to stave off depression, despair, the urge to make it all STOP. Gives thanks for the closeness they still share, even as her daughter fades into obscurity before her mother’s weeping eyes.
And the mother says fuck you pride. Let my daughter go.
💔
I'm also glad you're back throwing your interesting and witty two cents in, for whatever they're worth, which is a lot.
SO glad you’re back in action!!! ❤️ The world of sanity has missed your voice. Keep praying and speaking the truth--it will come out. Lies can’t hold under the Light.