She Didn’t Wave the PRIDE Flag 🏳️🌈: But She Never Left My Side
An Unpopular Truth About Pride, Belief, and Unshakable Love
My mom was never proud of my orientation. But she loved me. Fiercely. Unconditionally. Without a performance.
🏳️🌈 When Pride Month Hits Different
It’s Pride Month a time when rainbow flags wave, timelines explode with color, and communities celebrate being seen.
And while I honor that energy, my truth sits somewhere else.
This year, when I thought about Pride, I didn’t think about flags or parades.
I thought about my mother, Miss Bee.
She never celebrated my identity publicly.
She never wrapped herself in a rainbow or shouted support from a podium.
But she never turned her back on me.
And that mattered more than any parade ever could.
Love Without Agreement -- Yes, It’s Possible
Some people won’t understand this.
They’ll ask, How can someone love you deeply and not be proud of who you are?
Here’s my answer:
We didn’t require agreement to give each other grace.
We didn’t need the same beliefs to share a bond.
My mother held firm to her values.
And I held firm to mine.
We both knew better than to try to convert the other.
She stayed beside me.
She defended my wife and me even when her community judged her for it.
She showed up, even if she never shouted about it.
What I’m Actually Proud Of
Here’s an unpopular truth:
I don’t walk around with a Pride flag either.
Not because I’m ashamed but because that’s just never been how I move through the world.
I don’t announce my identity every day any more than I announce my brown eyes.
It’s part of who I am. Not something I need to prove.
You know what I am proud of?
My nonprofit: The Heart of Miss Bee, Inc.
My luxury beach towel line that’s actually winning awards.
My handbag and sneaker collection, because—yes, I do this.
My relationship of over 20 years with my wife, someone I’m beyond proud to walk through life with.
The Quiet Kind of Love
We didn’t need to see eye to eye to stand heart to heart.
My mom never waved the flag.
But she also never walked away.
And if I had to choose between someone marching in a parade for show, or someone holding my hand through life’s toughest moments…
I’ll take the hand. Every time.
If This Hits Home…
Maybe you’ve wrestled with this too—parents who love you but don’t always “get” you.
Maybe they’ll never march, never post, never hashtag.
But they never left you behind, either.
That’s still love.
That still counts.
If this story brings you peace, reflection, or even just a moment of relief—you’re not alone.
There are more of us than you think.
Join the Conversation
I'd love to hear your stories.
How do you define pride?
What does love look like when it’s quiet but real?
Drop a comment, share with someone who needs it, or send me a message. Let's keep making space for the full spectrum of truth in this rainbow.