I wasn’t expecting it. I really wasn’t. I sat down after a long day, shoes off, hair wild, just looking for something to fill the room while I scrolled my phone. But then, out of nowhere, this moment on screen just reached out and patted my shoulder like, “Hey, you. I see you.”
It was one of those small, almost throwaway scenes—two queer characters sitting on a stoop, eating ice cream, talking about nothing and everything. No drama, no declarations. Just sticky fingers and laughter that felt easy, like it belonged. I caught myself smiling at the screen, which is not my usual cute and collected vibe. Something about seeing Black queer joy that wasn’t loud or tragic or wrapped up in some big lesson—just two people being themselves, side by side, sun on their faces. I felt my chest loosen a little, a rare thing these days.
I thought about how many times I’ve had those moments in real life. The world spinning, but me and my friends posted up outside, sharing food, trading stories, being tender and silly and safe. There’s a power in seeing that. I didn’t know I needed the reminder that our softness matters too, that our laughter can be the main character. Sometimes I forget that my queerness isn’t just about surviving or teaching the world a lesson. Sometimes it’s just about eating ice cream with someone who gets it, letting the sun hit your face, and letting yourself just be.
So yeah, I left that scene lighter than I came in. Not in a big, life-changing way, but in the “oh, I can breathe a little easier” way. I’ll take that kind of joy wherever I can get it. Especially when it finds me when I’m not even looking.