June has arrived, bringing with it the start of summer in Europe and winter in South Africa. But it also marks the beginning of gay pride month.

Gay. It’s a topic I never imagined I’d be discussing openly.

Yet here we are.

Last year, I attended my 20-year school reunion in Harrismith, the small countryside town where I grew up in South Africa.

The invitation and subsequent inclusion in the WhatsApp group filled me with excitement at the prospect of reconnecting with old friends. As we shared photos and reminisced about our shared memories, I eagerly booked a flight from Barcelona to attend the event.

I was genuinely looking forward to it.

After a 16-hour flight followed by another 3 hours in the car, I arrived at the venue in Harrismith, eager to reunite with my old friends. The nostalgia of our shared experiences made it feel as though no time had passed at all.

Yet, within just 30 minutes of arriving, a friend pulled me aside to express his views on my lifestyle, stating that he believed it was not in alignment with God’s will. Despite my attempts to steer the conversation elsewhere, he persisted, even going so far as to suggest that I shouldn’t have children because it wasn’t in accordance with his interpretation of divine intention.

In that moment, I couldn’t stay silent. I felt compelled to challenge his perspective. I couldn’t help but point out the glaring irony in his argument:

“You’re suggesting that my dad, who was an alcoholic and showed little regard for me, can have children simply by sleeping with a woman. But me? Someone who dreams day and night about becoming a father, someone who would give everything for that child, I’m somehow not deserving of that opportunity?”

His response was evasive, a feeble attempt to distance himself from passing judgment. But the truth of his beliefs lingered in the air, casting a shadow over our conversation.

I realized in that moment that I had outgrown the version of myself who would passively accept the opinions and judgments of a small, conservative town. So, without hesitation, I made my exit from the reunion and swiftly exited the WhatsApp group the following day.

Honestly, the incident didn’t leave much of an impact on me personally. It didn’t alter the course of my life.

But it did leave me thinking about my friend’s 16-year-old son, running around at the reunion. I couldn’t shake the thought that he might be struggling with his own identity in an environment that perpetuated such narrow-mindedness. Perhaps not him directly, but maybe some of his friends.

And I couldn’t help but consider the ramifications of such beliefs. The pressure to conform, to deny one’s true self in order to fit into society’s mold. I thought about the individuals who would marry, have children, and live inauthentic, unhappy lives simply to meet the expectations imposed upon them.

It’s a reality that weighs heavy on my heart, and it’s why I feel compelled to share my story. To shed light on the journey of self-acceptance and authenticity, and perhaps offer a glimmer of hope to those who find themselves trapped in similar circumstances.

In the coming mailers throughout June, I’ll be delving into the topic of being gay—sharing my experiences, insights, and the lessons I’ve learned along the way.

I understand that this may be a challenging or uncomfortable topic for some, but I believe it’s an important conversation to have. My hope is that by sharing my story, I can offer support, encouragement, and understanding to those who may be navigating similar experiences.