Hello — I’m Scott. I’m a proud gay U.S. Navy veteran. I was born in Michigan, served three years in the Navy, lived in Kentucky for a time, and now call Minnesota home.

The Past:

My life hasn’t been simple. When I was 15 I found my adoption papers. I didn’t ask my mother about them then — I didn’t feel ready. Years later, after I had moved to Minnesota and returned to Michigan to help my mother through a difficult time, I finally asked. She told me she put me up for adoption because she had “to think about it”.  She said it easily, almost offhand, and that cut deeper than I can say.

When I asked about my father, I learned he had wanted to be involved — but my mother chose otherwise.  She said, that he wanted to date her, and help raise me, but she wanted none of that.

Over time I also learned pieces of family history that made it clear I’d been kept for reasons that had very little to do with wanting me as a person.

On top of that, I faced rejection from her for being gay. This left me feeling unwanted and unworthy for much of my life. My mother did not want the family to know, because it would reflect badly on her. But the funny part is, I found out later, is, they all knew and no one cared.

All of it left me feeling unwanted and unworthy for much of my life.

The Navy Years:

Serving in the Navy was a turning point for me, though it didn’t unfold the way I had imagined. At eighteen, I joined partly to escape the turbulence of home, searching for structure, purpose, and a fresh start. At that time, I was still unsure of my sexuality and hadn’t come out — not even to myself. In the late 1980s, long before Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, the military’s stance was even stricter: being gay meant you could be investigated and discharged outright.

Life aboard the ship taught me discipline, teamwork, and resilience, but it also brought challenges. At one point, I was under investigation after an adult object was discovered in a space that close friend of mine had access too.  Though it wasn’t mine, the cloud of accusation lingered, and while the truth eventually came out, the experience left its mark. Rumors circulated, jokes were made at my expense, and I often felt set apart.

In the end, I was honorably discharged, but, for being overweight, though I always sensed there may have been more behind that decision. Despite how difficult that chapter was, my time in the Navy helped me grow. It showed me my capacity to endure, to stand tall in the face of doubt, and to begin the lifelong process of understanding who I really am.

The Present:

For a long time I carried those things silently. It wasn’t until I started therapy that I truly realized how much the past was still shaping me. Therapy gave me the space to face the truth, to grieve, and to begin letting go of the belief that any of it was my fault. It hasn’t erased the pain, but it has helped me find my footing and reclaim my sense of worth.

I’ve also come to accept something painful and true: I will likely never get the accountability or apology I needed. She may never see what she did the way I do. That’s a loss, and I grieve it. But it’s not the end of my story.

The Future:

Be Proud Designs grew out of that journey — a way to transform pain into purpose. Every shirt, every design, is created with the idea that no one should feel invisible or unworthy for who they are. Our collections celebrate LGBTQ+ communities and our allies with humor, pride, and unapologetic authenticity.

I share this because I know I’m not the only one who’s ever felt unseen or unwanted. If my story helps even one person feel a little less alone, then it’s worth telling.

Thanks for being here, and for believing — like I do — that our shared story is still being written, and that it can be one of hope, dignity, and inclusion.
— Scott