In case you hadn’t noticed by the multiple brands suddenly plastering rainbows all over their social media, branding and logos, Pride season has officially begun! Yes, it’s that time of year again where the world begins celebrating LGBTQ+ people louder and prouder than the community themselves.
Pride season is a special time for millions of people around the globe for countless reasons, but none more important than the very fact that we are celebrating queer people for who they are. We are remembering and celebrating the people who paved the way for us now, from the drag and ball scene of New York, to the 1969 Stonewall riot which rebelled against the inhumane laws and regulations against Queer people. And with a recent survey by euroClinix suggesting that there may be upwards of nine million people identifying as LGB in the UK alone, the need for Pride celebrations has never been more prominent or necessary.
Pride season can, however, be quite a daunting time for members of the LGBTQ+ community. It is a time of the year where personal topics such as sexuality, gender, sex, are thrown onto the table and forcibly presented to the world. For individuals who are entirely comfortable with their orientation, this obviously poses little threat. But it’s those who may not be quite so comfortable that I want to focus on here. I write this piece now as a 22-year-old cis gay male, who is completely comfortable in his skin, his sexuality, and the way he presents to the world. But this hasn’t always been the way.
Throughout secondary school, I knew I wasn’t ‘straight’, but wasn’t too sure what that ultimately meant. I trialled having girlfriends, I started to find more men attractive, but it took quite some years for me to actually feel I knew who and what I am. Come sixth form, I knew who I was. I had told my close friends, I was beginning to feel more comfortable with opening up to people, but still very much kept my wits about me regarding who I told and when, and ultimately why, I told them. Then, the move to university came at age 18, and I knew exactly what to do.
For the first time in my life, I went to a new place, with new people, as an openly gay man. I found a boyfriend, I came out to my family, and thankfully everything was pretty uneventful. I’ve been incredibly lucky throughout my life to have never experienced homophobia to any particular degree, and have been warmly welcomed by everyone in my life. Now, at the end of my university journey, I am currently in my fourth relationship with another gay man, and I feel completely comfortable in presenting who I am to the world. To mark the start of Pride season this year, I decided to pierce my ear, paint my nails and dye my hair. And no, this wasn’t a cry for help, as multiple Twitter memes may suggest... but because I felt comfortable to do so.
I know that 15-year-old, chubby and still-in-the-closet me was scared to even talk about going to a Pride event, or being gay. I was bullied by the ‘popular’ lads for being feminine, and wanted to shy away from any kind of attention like that. Now fast forward to the age of 22, and I’m preparing the sequins and glitter for my fifth Brighton Pride in a row, with a huge group of supportive friends, ready to celebrate the hell out of being a strong, confident, gay man. And this lead me to think, what does Pride season mean to other LGBTQ+ people? Although millions of people around the world celebrate Pride season, I wanted to hear from both sides of the story – from those who embrace Pride season, and those who are more intimidated by it. So, I spoke to James*, 25, who presents as openly gay, and Emma*, 20, who identifies as ‘non-straight’.
James told me that “as someone who once struggled with being openly gay, I used to worry that people in the street would notice me for all the wrong reasons. Pride to me is an opportunity to be unashamedly queer and not feel like I need to apologise for it at all. It’s a time to celebrate who you are, with the people closest to you, and stand out for all the right reasons.”
Emma expressed her apprehensive emotions towards Pride season. She had attended her first Pride event in London recently and said that she “had always questioned if I was 100% straight, but I’d never really spared the time to tackle those thoughts. I was scared of them.” She continued: “It wasn’t until I attended my first Pride event where I experienced such open freedom, love and happiness. The whole experience was pretty overwhelming, but it was in that moment that I suddenly became a lot less afraid of the thoughts I was having and the person I might be.”
So, as Pride season continues throughout the coming months, remember that it isn’t always sunshine and rainbows (pardon the pun). A person’s relationship with Pride season is individual, situational and personal. Just because a person isn’t publicly ‘out’, does not by any means represent their actual sexuality. The journey to becoming truly happy and confident in your sexuality (and yourself generally) can be emotional, intense and overwhelming for many; and the LGBTQ+ Pride season is a celebration of queer history, accomplishments and most importantly: our future. But always remember that a person’s relationship with ‘pride’ can be complex. Ultimately, be supportive, be inclusive, and most of all, enjoy it! Year-on-year LGBTQ people are becoming more accepted, more supported and more celebrated.
So keep your heads high and your rainbow flags flying.
*Names changed