There was a time that I declared I wanted to grow old an die in Orlando. That was the place where I felt most at home. I had gone there for college and, after finishing college elsewhere, I moved back to Orlando the day after graduation. Literally, the next day. I had assumed that Florida was where I would stay and, if I was going to be there, Orlando was going to be my home. It was quite some time later that I was introduced to mountains and the idea that there were places that existed without humidity. That knowledge changed things.

In the almost 15 years since I moved away, people often ask if I miss Florida. “I miss my family,” I say, “but I couldn’t live there again.”

It’s true, I have no desire to live there again. I don’t miss the geography or the weather. But I remember hearing others speak poorly of Orlando when ALA was holding a conference there. The last one, I had a wonderful experience, which is impressive given how much I dislike summers in Florida. For very valid reasons, many complained of going back to Orlando, which is happening in a couple weeks. Through those conversations, I’d hear people express such negative views, and it always struck me hard — like hearing someone say something bad about a family member. It hurt.

The reality is, Orlando is special to me. It’s where many important things happened to me. College. My Twenties. Downtown Orlando was where we spent time. Music. Dancing. Art. So much.

It’s not like Orlando has never seen violence. But this? Opening fire in a nightclub? I can’t even wrap my head around it. I woke this morning and it was the first thing I saw before even getting out of bed since I decided to look at the news there as I often do on Sunday morning. I’m grateful that most of my day was spent driving with a book to listen to so I could avoid the news. I’d have spent the day obsessing over the details. Now, ending my day, I’ve spent considerable time pouring over articles. It’s still too much. I still don’t get it. I rather hope I never do “get” something like this. I don’t want to be the kind of person that can conceive of such hate and violence.

That it happened in my Orlando. That it happened in a place where I’m sure I’d have spent time if I was in my twenties in Orlando all over again.  It’s frightening. My heart is broken. For the people lost and hurt. For families and friends. For my community.

I look forward now to visiting in a couple weeks. Yes, I was already looking forward to the event and to the opportunity to see my sister and my beautiful nieces and nephew. But I was dreading the weather; the very long plane ride. I no longer care. I want to go to show that one person’s hate (and we know more than just this one person hates this way) can’t stop love. We won’t hide. It’s still Pride.  I’m going to the conference, and I’m bring my O-town Pride. Love must win.