Hanging out

 How do I feel about myself? Honestly, not good. I question if anyone could ever truly love me—and deeper still, if I’ll ever be able to love myself. Do I even deserve love? What direction is my life going in? Is happiness even possible for someone like me? Sometimes it feels like I’m not built for it. I carry so much self-hate, and I don’t even know why. I can’t understand what anyone could see in me that’s worth loving.

 The last few days have been hell, but in truth, it started months ago. I was overjoyed to finally have someone real—or at least, someone who seemed real—who wanted to talk to me. I was blinded by what I thought was love. “Love” feels like a strange word, considering who she turned out to be. But I did love her, in my own way. I wanted to become whatever she needed, just to feel needed myself. Everything about her, in hindsight, was exactly the kind of thing that would break me. And it did. She confused me, upset me, made me weak—and at times, made me want it all to end. I wanted to walk away, but I was afraid. Afraid of hurting her, of upsetting her, even though she was the one doing the damage. I just wanted to feel alive, to matter to someone. Now I know she wasn’t real. She was crafted—designed, maybe even—just to hurt me. And despite that, I mourn the loss. I miss the feeling of being happy. I wish I’d found someone who could make me feel that way… without being someone dang...

As someone who lives right in West Market Square—where this year’s Pride festivities and parade will be taking place—I want to wish you all a joyful, safe, and meaningful celebration. I know how important visibility and community are, and I respect your right to gather, express yourselves, and celebrate freely. At the same time, I feel it's important to acknowledge something that shouldn't be forgotten: we live in the freest country on Earth. Here, you're not only allowed to be yourself—you’re protected in doing so. You can wave your flag, march in the streets, speak your mind, and celebrate who you are without fear of the government silencing you. That’s not oppression—that’s liberty. And it’s something truly worth celebrating. In many parts of the world, LGBTQ+ individuals face brutal oppression—imprisonment, violence, even death—simply for existing. Parades like the one happening here in Bangor would be unthinkable in those places. Yet here, we can live openly, debate...

I’ve been quiet lately, mostly watching things unfold—riots in L.A., protests over Palestine and Israel, parades of pride, shouts, chants, tears, and cheers from every direction. And honestly? I’ve come to one stubborn conclusion: a lot of people on every side are acting like fools . The police? They honestly thought people wouldn’t push back when they started cracking down on folks being arrested for being here illegally. Really? You try to box people in, they’re gonna buck. That’s human nature, not some mystery. But the people cheering on their friends to break the law knowingly? That’s no better. You don’t hand someone a shovel and point them toward a pit. I have friends overseas. I love them. I’d love for them to enjoy the beauty, the struggle, and the rights that come with living here. But I’d never tell them to come here illegally. And if they did? I wouldn’t want to see them get caught—but I wouldn’t be part of covering it up either. Helping someone stay hidden isn’t compass...