Culture

5 Years Later, Survivors Reflect on the Legacy of Pulse: “My Whole Life Changed”


I was at Pulse that night with two friends to celebrate the first night out on our vacation from Philadelphia. At first, after that horrific experience, I struggled with survivor’s guilt, fearing that I would never be worthy of receiving love or giving it. But as time went on, my trauma became an awareness that I needed to love harder than I ever had before. It made me realize that we need to make the world a better place — which might sound cliché, but I mean it, on a deep level. When we don’t love each other or ourselves, terrible things happen. Without love, a gunman can enter a club and kill 49 people. Without love, a mass shooting survivor like me can consider taking their own life due to the crushing guilt that comes afterward.

If Pulse taught me anything, it’s that none of us can exist without love. The legacy that night has left — the gift it gave me — is to see that love is the axis on which the world spins.

Jeff Xcentric (He/him)

Pulse has taught me about resilience and strength. I was shot several times that night, and I’ve had 12 surgeries over the last five years. I was unconscious for the first few days after it happened, so I didn’t even get to see any of the candlelight vigils that everyone else saw until weeks later. As a person who likes to be active, it was very trying for me to be bound to a bed for half a year and then have to learn how to walk again, twice. Being in a wheelchair and physical therapy and walking with a cane — all of these things tried my patience and my endurance.

There were times when I wanted to give up, but I didn’t. There were times I kicked everybody out of my room, even the nurses — when I needed a day or two to just be left alone. There were times when I did give up; I just didn’t want to deal with it anymore. My bad leg was my right leg; on my left leg, I only got shot in the foot. They were originally going to amputate my right leg from the knee down, but they were able to save it, thankfully. Aside from the fact that I enjoyed dancing, I also enjoy walking.

The first time I stood up, I was in my hospital room. I broke down crying. My doctor was there, my therapist was there, and I had a couple of family and friends visiting. My parents were in the room. I broke down crying — everyone else did, too — and I hugged my dad and my mom.

I was able to do that because of the strength my family gave me, and because of the support I and other survivors received from around the world. I think often of my friends who are no longer here because of what happened at Pulse. I’ve also had several other losses over the years, family and friends gone too soon. A lot of the time, as I push ahead in life, I think of someone I’ve lost along the way and tell them, “This is for you, because I know you can’t be here.” Because I survived Pulse, I have to keep going for those who didn’t.

Like Stonewall, that night is part of our history. It’s part of American history. It’s part of LGBTQ+ history. I don’t want any future generations to ever forget what happened there. As horrible as it is, it shouldn’t be forgotten. I will carry it with me forever.

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