When I was younger, something happened on my birthday, something serious enough that all the adults were busy trying to fix it. I remember the tension, the confusion… but I also remember something else.
My uncle, beautifully bold and full of heart, he kept me outside, put on a tutu, and started dancing. Just to make me laugh, and to distract me. He made me feel cared for and I’ll never forget that. In the middle of that storm, he brought joy, and love. That moment has stayed with me ever since. It’s something I will always, always cherish.
He was gay, and he passed away some time ago, but he lives in my heart every day. Not because of how he identified, but because of who he was, someone who loved deeply.
I even carry a tattoo in his honor — his initial, with two small hearts beside it: one for me, and one for my son. It’s a reminder that he’s always with me, that his love continues through generations. That I am so proud of him.
Pride Month is about visibility, rights, and celebration, but for me, it’s also about remembrance. His courage, his joy, his tutu dancing, his unconditional love.
I hope, wherever he is, he knows just how loved and admired he still is.
I’m proud to be his niece. And I’m proud to keep telling his story.