#quietpride

Some men speak in glances instead of words. The slow turn of his head, the sunlight along his jaw, the question he never says out loud. He wonders if the look he felt meant what he thinks it did— if the moment was real, if the connection was shared. A symbol would make it certain. Something quiet… something meant for the ones who understand. Maybe he’s not the only one waiting.

Some men carry their truth like a steady pulse— calm on the surface, but charged underneath. He’s not one to chase shadows or guesses. If he’s going to look back, he wants to know he’s looking at a man who sees him too. That’s why signals matter— the subtle ones, the ones only the right eyes catch, the ones that say you’re not imagining this. Something made for moments like that is almost here.

Some men speak in glances instead of words. The slow turn of his head, the sunlight along his jaw, the question he never says out loud. He wonders if the look he felt meant what he thinks it did— if the moment was real, if the connection was shared. A symbol would make it certain. Something quiet… something meant for the ones who understand. Maybe he’s not the only one waiting.

Looking back, I see how far I've come. Maybe pride isn't just for the ones marching in parades. It's also for the quiet moments when you face a mirror and say, yep, that's growth.

Some folks need big parades and rainbows. I put on my old pride pin in the quiet of my room and feel the weight of it—feels like a hug that I've given myself permission to accept every day.

Les Morey, trout farmer, Crestone WA, RA Clayton

Winona Haught, Ranch Wife, Artist, Globe AZ, RA Clayton

Juan Malonado, cowboy, vaquero, Falfurrias Texas, RA Clayton