The asphalt felt already soft by nine in the morning. Heat rising off the street, stinging my calves through my shoes. I shifted nervously, scanning the oncoming crowd, waiting for the first stranger to open their arms.
I’d never done anything like this before. As an introvert, I was way outside my comfort zone.
Debbie, the coordinator (a sweet progressive in her late forties) came to check on me. “Don’t be anxious. People will love that you’re here. Trust me. And yes… you’re going to get sweaty and covered in glitter.”
“Sounds like a fun time!” I gave a shy smile.
She wasn’t wrong about either.
The first round of hugs was meaningful in ways I hadn’t anticipated. I always give solid, warm embraces. Here, people commented on how good they felt, held like that, as they moved through the crowded street. Something loosened in me with each one.
Then came my first person to cry on me.
I wasn’t ready for that.
He said his dad disowned him when he came out. Said they hadn’t spoken in nearly fifteen years. He broke in literal sobs on my shoulder. He didn’t want to let go.
Neither did I.
With the joyful embraces I’d say “Happy Pride!” With the emotional ones, I always say “You are loved.”
A few embraces later, a woman held on longer than most. Through tears she told me her dad had passed earlier that year.
I held her too.
There’s a particular weight to grief at Pride. The celebration and the loss occupying the same crowded street simultaneously. Joy and mourning pressed together in the heat.
By the end of the day I was emotionally spent in the best possible way. While my social cup had emptied completely, my empathy cup had filled just as fast.
My wife Meghan and I have been giving Free Mom (&Dad) Hugs at Pride festivals for four years now. Free Mom Hugs is an organization that promotes love and acceptance within the LGBTQ+ community. A sweet progressive, Sara Cunningham, started it. People like Debbie make it run in our area.
Now more than ever, the organization needs us out there.
It’s not always tears. I’ve had energetic women flirt with me for solving their daddy issues… their words, not mine.
That was fun…
But… last year a new member of our group, Connie, was genuinely baffled by my presence. There aren’t many dads who do this, though our numbers have grown over the years. Connie studied me because I didn’t fit her available categories.
“You’re straight,” she said. Less a question; more a verdict.
“Yes. And?”
“That’s your wife?” She nodded toward Meghan.
“Correct.”
“You have kids?”
“Two. Both young men.”
“Is one of them gay?”
“No,” I flummoxed. “But if they were, I’m okay with that.”
“Anyone in your family gay?”
“Not that I’m aware of. I think a cousin is severely in denial,” trying to bring levity to her inquisition.
She almost smiled at that. Almost.
“Then — forgive me — you’re masculine.”
“Thanks?”
“Why are you here?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean if your kids aren’t gay, why are you out here giving hugs?”
“Because love is love,” I said.
She paused on that.
“I don’t care who gets your naughty bits all tingly,” I softly shrugged. “If you love them and it’s consensual, that’s all we need.”
“Did you grow up somewhere up North?”
“No. Small Southern Baptist town. In a lower state.”
“You don’t sound like it. You don’t look like it either.” She studied me again. “You look a lot like my brother. You even act like him.” A beat. “He’d never be caught at Pride.”
“Sucks for him.”
She stood there for a moment, working something out. A cis, straight, married man in his early fifties. Southern Baptist upbringing. No gay kids. No obvious personal stake.
Just here.
She couldn’t find the category. I wasn’t in it.
The man who sobbed on my shoulder fifteen years after his father said no — he didn’t need a sermon or a movement or a political statement.
He needed a hug from a dad…
… and I had one to give.
Now… go get organized!
Happy Pride!
Much love,
Paul
Thank you so much for doing this! It warms my heart. I lost family, the ones most important to me, when I came out and there were a lot of holidays I spent grieving the family I used to get together with. That was many years ago and I love the family I've created. Thank you for embracing, love is love, and giving dad hugs!
nice article