It's the Joy. Just Joy!
- John-Michael Scurio
- 1 day ago
- 5 min read
There’s a haunting truth in these words:
“LGBTQ people don’t grow up as ourselves. We grow up playing a version of ourselves that sacrifices authenticity to minimize humiliation and prejudice.
I've come to learn that a massive ongoing task of my adult life has been to unpick which parts of myself are truly me and which parts were created to protect me. And for so many of us, this sentiment is a lived experience stitched into the fabric of our becoming.
When we were young, we didn’t get to “just be.” I know I didn't. We learned early to monitor, measure, and modify. To change the posture, the pitch. We learned to camouflage our joy, not because we were ashamed of it, but because we were told, explicitly or implicitly, that it was “too much.”
When I was young, I became fluent in pretending. Like so many LGBTQ+ kids, I learned how to read the room before I learned how to read a book. I studied tone, posture, volume; the delicate science of blending in.
It sometimes felt like I was playing a part, a role: it was that version of me that smiles enough to disarm suspicion, that laughs at the right jokes, that doesn’t let the hand linger too long on a friend’s shoulder. I measured every word, every gesture, until it became second nature.
Initially, I survived by shrinking.
Now, at age 55, I still think to myself, was it? Was it too much?
Too much what?
Too much color, too much authenticity, too much love, too much joy, too much truth.
I became an expert in adaptation. But adaptation, while it can help us survive, can also quietly dismantle who we are.
And so, adulthood (for many LGBTQ+ folks) is less about self-discovery and more about self-reclamation. It’s a journey back to what’s real. What truly makes us who we are.
The Unpicking
“Unpicking” is such a beautifully messy word, isn’t it? It suggests effort and patience, but also tenderness. It’s the act of gently undoing the stitches that once held our survival suits together, not with bitterness, but with curiosity and grace.
Every time we let ourselves laugh freely, express affection openly, or stand in our own light without apology, we unpick another thread.
In a world that once demanded we hide, the most radical thing we can do is live vividly.
It’s not that you don’t know who you are, it’s that the world tells you, again and again, that being that person, being "too much" might cost you "too much." So, you hide. You build a version of yourself that feels “safe enough.”
But eventually, being your authentic, joyful, loving self pays off and life gives you a place where you can start taking that costume off.
For me, that place was Eureka Springs, Arkansas.
Belonging
Eureka Springs, Arkansas, has long been a sanctuary for souls on the margins, the artists, the misfits, the lovers of freedom and color. This quirky, open-hearted town tucked into the Ozark Hills doesn’t just tolerate difference; it celebrates it.
Here, rainbow flags aren’t merely symbols, they are signals. Signals that say: “You can exhale here.”
Walk through downtown Eureka Springs and you’ll see it, the murals that splash joy onto brick, the shopkeepers who greet you like family, the laughter spilling from the Basin Park benches. It’s a place that doesn’t ask you to shrink. Instead, it whispers, “Bring all of you.”
This is why so many LGBTQ+ people find resonance in Eureka Springs. It’s not just a town; it’s a mirror. A place where the tender, expressive, unapologetic parts that we once hid can finally be seen and celebrated year after year after timeless year.
Beneath the Surface
At its very core, diversity, equity, and inclusion aren’t corporate buzzwords. They’re about liberation. They’re about building communities, like Eureka Springs, that allow everyone to bring their whole selves to the table.
But that doesn’t happen by accident. It requires collective unpicking, too.
Communities have to unpick prejudice, policies, and long-held assumptions that keep some voices muted while others dominate. Leaders must unpick biases that favor sameness over authenticity. And we must unpick the fear that difference somehow threatens harmony, when in truth, it enriches it.
"Inclusion isn’t about tolerating someone else’s truth; it’s about making room for it and learning how it expands your own." /John-Michael Scurio
Survival to Celebration
For anyone on this path, the path of rediscovering who you truly are after years of pretending, takes time. Sometimes it’s joyful. Sometimes it’s painful. But in a town like Eureka Springs, you don’t have to do it alone.
Whether it’s Pride Weekend, or one of the "Out in Eureka" Diversity Weekends (we have two diversity celebrations annually), or just a quiet Tuesday morning with coffee at Brews, this town holds space for your unfolding.
Because here, authenticity isn’t something to be feared or hidden. It’s the heartbeat of the community.
When I first arrived, I noticed something that stopped me cold: people here look at you and actually see you. Not the version you’ve rehearsed. Not the edited, self-censored version you built to survive. Just YOU. Authentically YOU.
And maybe it’s because Eureka Springs has always been a refuge, for artists, dreamers, spiritual wanderers, and those that are often "too much." For generations, people have come here to exhale. To take off the armor.
There’s a mural downtown, a swirl of color that stretches along a set of concrete stairs like a joyful sigh. It delivers so much joy to so many people. No one thinks for a minute that this staircase is "too much."
That’s the thing about this town: it doesn’t ask you to tone it down. It hands you a paintbrush and says, “Show us what your heart looks like.”
Our in-town, parades are a sight to behold. There are children waving rainbow flags, elders wearing glitter hats, drag queens blowing kisses from convertible cars, and families lining the sidewalks, cheering like it was the Fourth of July.
Our parades feel like a homecoming.
In that sea of color, I realized something: this is what DEI truly means. It’s not a corporate initiative or a checkbox. It’s this; a living, breathing ecosystem where everyone gets to bring their whole selves without fear.
Eureka doesn’t simply tolerate difference; it celebrates it.
That’s diversity. That’s equity. That’s inclusion and belonging.
So come as you are, or as you’re still becoming. Sit and meditate in Basin Spring Park. Listen to the music drifting through the hills. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll feel another thread loosen from your survival suit, and a little more of the real you begin to breathe again.
Because in Eureka Springs, Arkansas, diversity isn’t the goal ... it’s the joy. Just joy.❤️