Summer in a two-mom household with two kids is never quiet. Never calm. Never predictable. But always full of love, laughter and a healthy dose of chaos.
Our days are a blur of summer camp schedules, snack negotiations, video game time limits and attempts at quality time that don’t involve someone shouting, “You’re standing in front of the TV!” One of our kiddos is still wide-eyed and imaginative, while the other is a full-fledged teenager with a sarcasm streak that deserves its own reality show. Honestly, I’m not sure what’s more exhausting — the logistics or emotions.
We juggle it all: drop-offs, pick-ups, packing snacks, reminding everyone (again) to put on sunscreen and dreaming of a vacation that doesn’t include someone getting carsick. Family road trips are part joy, part comedy of errors — like when we realized halfway to the beach that someone forgot their shoes.
But despite the chaos, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. There’s magic in the mayhem.
Still, beneath the joyful noise of our household lies a quieter, heavier reality.
Even though I was naturalized, I still carry my passport card with me everywhere I go — just in case. That instinct to protect myself, to be “ready,” never quite leaves. And I fully understand that this is a privilege many people in my family — both of origin and chosen — do not have. I have loved ones who are undocumented, living each day with uncertainty, and facing risks that should not exist.
As a parent, I find myself having tough conversations with my kids about the world around them. They’re old enough now to catch headlines here and there, and they ask questions that sometimes break my heart:
“Why are families being separated?”
“Why are people told to go back to where they came from?”
I do my best to answer honestly, in a way that respects their intelligence but doesn’t weigh down their spirit. It’s a delicate balance.
In these moments, the anxiety can be overwhelming. But for my own mental well-being, I’ve learned to shift focus. To zoom in from the macro chaos to the micro joys. To ground myself in what I can control. That includes focusing on what brings me joy — my family, my community and my work with Come Out With Pride.
As executive director, I get to help create something beautiful and powerful every year — a space where LGBTQIA+ people and families like mine feel seen, celebrated and supported. Pride is more than a parade or a party. It’s a lifeline. It’s resistance wrapped in glitter and joy.
This year, our theme is “We The People.” It’s not just a nod to the Constitution — it’s a statement of truth and solidarity. In a time when our rights are being challenged and communities are being targeted, We The People is a reminder that our voices matter. That we belong. And that real power comes when we come together across race, gender, sexuality, status and faith to fight for justice.
We The People is also deeply personal. It’s a reminder that our Pride — and our flag — doesn’t faint under pressure. It stands bold, bright and unapologetically queer. This theme calls us to find our common ground, to focus on what unites us and to commit to moving forward together.
While the world outside our home can feel heavy, I hold onto the little moments inside it that bring light: spontaneous dance parties in the living room, late-night talks with my teen when they finally open up, and the beautiful chaos of a house full of life and love.
Yes, our summer is loud, messy and unpredictable. But it’s also full of meaning. And in the midst of the madness, I choose to lead with joy. I chose to build a community. I choose to believe that better is possible.
Because we are the people. And together, we rise!
Tatiana Quiroga is the executive director for Come Out With Pride. She is a proud mother, wife and LGBTQ+ advocate in Central Florida.
