Yesterday we saw Sex & The City for the second time and it was just as sweet as the first. I think one of the things that made me fall in love with the show was the enduring friendships the girls shared. They could always count on each other during the good times and the bad. They were more than just friends, they were family, and sometimes while watching the show they felt like a part of my family, reminding me of the more difficult times in my own life and the friends who helped me get through them. 

So when the Pride flags were raised on Market Street last week, it wasn’t gay marriage, the film festival or even the Pride parade which leapt to mind. It was my friends.

My best memories of Pride are those that I spent with friends, or more accurately, my extended family before my real family even knew who I was. Every Pride we would venture out because it was OUR day. Our day to celebrate. Our day to be proud of who we were.

Of course we are all older now. Many of us can’t be bothered. Some have moved away and some have moved on with their lives. Friends who were once close, are now distant and seldom seen. And the friendships that were once easy and enduring, now require more work than they should just to keep them alive.

So while Pride is in the air it doesn’t smell as sweet as I remember. But I’m thankful to be in a secure and loving relationship. I am happy that my parents accept me for who I am, and that their love is unconditional. And I am glad I still have friends who will call just for the sake of calling, just to say hello. 

For all these things I am grateful, and not just during Pride, or Thanksgiving, or Christmas… but all year long. It just took a rainbow for me to realize it.