An Open Letter To fam❤️

Hey fam ❤️,

I’m writing this as one of you, a gay person who’s out only to a few people, the ones I trust and care about. I’m not out to my family or society at large. So yes, in many ways, I’m still in the closet.

But sometimes, the community makes me feel like being queer means being loud, bold, and out there – all the time. And if you’re not, you’re seen as ashamed or less authentic. That hurts. Because I am proud, just not loud. I shouldn’t have to perform extroversion or flamboyance to prove I belong.

I’ve also felt judged because I’m not into hookups, and I don’t have sexual experience. That shouldn’t make me an outsider in a community that claims to value diversity. But somehow, it does. There’s this unspoken script and if you don’t fit it, you’re invisible or invalid.

Last year, I gathered the courage to attend Pride for the first time. It was the first time I ever attended Pride. I was scared but hopeful. I told myself, maybe this is where I’ll finally feel seen. It was huge for me. I felt extremely happy and confident and really wanted to go each year. This year, I wanted to go again, but honestly, a few bad experiences made me feel like this space isn’t made for people like me. That hurts too.

I’m asking us, all of us, to bring back vulnerability, softness, and real inclusivity. Not just the curated, flashy kind. But the kind that has room for the quiet ones. The late bloomers. The ones still figuring it out.

I want us to create queer spaces where quiet pride is still pride. Where you don’t have to shout to be heard.
Where softness isn’t mistaken for shame.

That’s all.

I’m still here. Still queer. Still wanting to find my people, even if I don’t always feel seen. If you’re like me, figuring things out quietly, not into the scene, still carrying fear or softness, you’re not alone. You’re valid too.

With love, Nura ❤️