You may have seen me on the news last Saturday. Channel 3 at 6 and 11. They used one small piece of a longer conversation about the Cleveland Pride March. That interview never would have happened if I hadn’t decided to care for myself.

I loved the march itself. I loved seeing all of the UUCC folx and their friends. I loved seeing people from other UU churches. I loved that we were lining up near some enthusiastic dancers that kept things lively while we were waiting for the parade to start. I loved the crowds cheering words of affirmation from the sidewalks. The whole experience of the march was wonderful.

When we got to the booths at the end where everyone had gathered for music and festivities, it was a bit much for me. I chastised myself for not wanting to hang around for longer, but I wasn’t really enjoying myself. I’m not a fan of big crowds, and although there are times when it’s pleasant to feel bass notes reverberating my whole skeleton from massive speakers, I wasn’t in the space to enjoy that experience on Saturday.

So, I was ready to leave not long after the march itself was over. I know, I’m a real party pooper. I tried to convince myself all the reasons I should stick around. Most of those reasons, though, were about other people’s expectations. Those reasons weren’t about what I wanted or needed.

As I walked back toward the train station, still wrestling with myself about whether I should feel OK about leaving so early, a cameraman from Channel 3 stopped me and asked if I’d be willing to answer a few questions about why I had come to the march. As it turns out, a little piece of what I said was chosen for that evening’s report on the event.

Of course, I don’t know what would have happened if I had made different choices that day. What I do know is that I had an opportunity to make a public statement about how events like the Pride march contribute to the emotional and psychological well-being of our community. And that opportunity arose because I chose to care for myself in that moment. 

I wonder how many opportunities I miss because I choose not to care for myself and pay more attention to that shame voice inside my head, or worry about what other people might expect. I wonder how many more opportunities I might have to live into my values with integrity, just because I’m committed to my own individual care. 

Part of me wants to hold this as an either-or proposition. Either I care for myself well, or I engage in outward expressions of my values. Maybe it’s always been both-and.