My Pride Playlist throughout Coming Out.

Paradox: I knew it but I also had no idea.

You hear the word gay but you’re not sure what it means. All you know are the laughs, snickers, and uncomfortable faces that follow. You try to distance yourself as far from that word as possible. You’re attracted to girls. You know it, you feel it, but you’re thinking of princes. You’ve been told one day you’d find your Prince. And you think that’s reality, the one and only way of reality being. You hear Lady Gaga’s Born This Way. It comforts you. You don’t quite understand why. Yes, it’s a great song, with a great beat. Everyone is dancing. But there’s something more. You feel better in your own skin, you’re not doing anything wrong.

"I’m on the right track baby, I was born this way."

Shame: I felt I was doing something so wrong.

You’re on your computer late at night. Google knows your deepest secret before you even have a chance to admit it to yourself. You stumble across Hayley Kiyoko’s Girls like Girls music video. You quickly shut your laptop in guilt. Your face burns with shame. It takes a year before you ever hear the song again. You play the video all the way through. You’re nervous and shaking at the idea of someone finding out what you’re watching. All the same, you give yourself a pat in the back for taking this step. It doesn’t seem like much but you’ve come a long way from the crippling shame to being less afraid of your own truth.

"Girls like girls like boys do."

Depression: I repressed my feelings for the longest time.

You’re in denial about who you are. You play a part to fit in. You try to tell someone how you’re feeling; you try to let them see that part you’ve been hiding. Impossible, since you hide that part from yourself. You feel more alone and alone, digging yourself in deeper and deeper. You listen to queer music to find yourself. Hayley Kiyoko becomes your life. Night and day her music plays through your headphones. You’re humming Mercy/Gatekeeper every time you’re in a panic. You’ve never felt more connected to a song before. You realize that there are others out there who understand. You are not alone.

"When the city sleeps, I’m awake. Locked up in my mind I can’t escape."

Acceptance: I started embracing my queerness.

The depression slowly lifts as you recognize acceptance and support from the people around you. It doesn’t disappear completely but hearing others' stories becomes your cheer of encouragement. Your classmate who just came out, your teacher with the pride shirt, your co-worker talking about her girlfriend, all choose to live openly, reminding you that it was never you who was in the wrong. You find artists who are unapologetically themselves. You stream all of Todrick Hall’s music. With a great message and an even greater beat, you’re inspired by I Like Boys. Be who you are, like who you like, no matter what others say.

"Don't be a camel when you are a llama, period."

Community: I found people with similar experiences to mine.

You’re more comfortable in your own skin so finding an online community is less scary. You’ve finally admitted that you’re gay. To yourself, not to others. You’re not quite fully there yet. You find queer TV shows, videos, youtubers, stories – you’re starved for that representation you’ve been denied your whole life and then been too afraid to look for. Now is the time to embrace yourself and your community. You listen to FLETCHER whose music makes you feel heartbroken over breakups you’ve never been through, over mistakes you’ve never made. You wish your life can look like the Wasted Youth music video. You’ve heard people say “what a waste” in regard to your sexuality but you won’t let anyone stop you from living life to the fullest, the way you want.

"It's my life. If I'm gonna waste it, gonna waste it on you."

Coming out: I finally told all my friends.

It was difficult, it was nerve wracking, but you did it. After the long and exhausting rollercoaster of emotions, you come out. You love yourself and surround yourself by those who love you. You are uplifted and happy. Dancing seems the only way to celebrate. Sara Bareilles’ Brave, which was apparently written to help a friend in coming out, is a great song to end this pride playlist throughout coming out.

"Say what you wanna say, and let the words fall out. Honestly, I wanna see you be brave."

Today, all these songs are part of my playlist and all uplift me because they remind me of all I’ve been through but also all the possibilities of where I’m going.

And they’re catchy! I suggest you check them out!