Pride Celebrations 2024

Pride. 

It's a time of year that is difficult to condense into just one thing, because it means so many things to many different people. For some, it's a celebration of identity, or victories in LGBTQ+ rights. Some use it as a time of remembrance, self-reflection, or discovery. For others, it's a reminder that the fight is not over, and that while Pride is a celebration to many, it is also still a protest in many ways to push for true equality and tolerance towards all in the community. And a few people find Pride to be painful, be it because of discourse, pushback from others, or simply because they cannot express themselves just yet and must hide.

I could type for hours on what Pride means and only scratch the surface, so I will share a little of what it means to me, and my experience of it.

I've used a few different labels for myself over the years, going all the way back to when I was twelve and came out to a couple of my friends in the changing rooms, but as I write this blog, I currently use the term "Queer" most often to describe myself. It's a term that has some controversy due to it's history of being a slur, but I adopted it due to it's simplicity and ambiguity when talking about my identity.

 "Queer" is a term that can be used by anyone in the LGBTQ+ community, and so it can be very effective in presenting oneself as part of the community, but not having to disclose the exact identity  and possibly have to go through the process of then explaining what said identity means (as is my experience and reasoning for using the term). It's also a form of reclamation, in that it takes a previously harmful word and allows us to wield it more positively in a way that empowers those in the community, which I think is quite poetic.

Despite having known about my sexuality for a long time, I'd never actually attended a pride event until 2022, when I went to both London and Brighton pride with a group of friends. Nothing could've prepared me for the sheer number of bodies filling the streets, nor the wonderfully colourful expressions of identity I witnessed from people of all kinds. The sheer scale of it all was quite overwhelming to me, a homebody who tends to prefer quieter days out, but I still found myself swept up in the excitement that was palpable in the air.

Both events, beyond being like a huge party celebrating the LGBTQ+ community, gave me some valuable experiences I don't think I'll forget, nor do I think I would've found anywhere else, and they highlight the theme I believe sits at the heart of pride for many;

Connection.

The first experience I'd like to share came from the second pride event I attended - Brighton Pride. At Brighton Pride, there is something called the Village Party; an area of the town that's sectioned off and that you need a wristband to get into. My friends and I had paid for this, and to say it was busy would be an understatement; you didn't walk places, you squeezed. Paired with the hot weather and the noise, this was a very overwhelming experience that had our group seeking refuge to just decompress from it all, but everywhere was packed and we felt ourselves growing desperate.

We walked past a small shop selling trans merch, and quickly bustled inside to both have a look, and escape the heaving streets. We were greeted by a friendly trans woman and fell into conversation with her. I think she could see that we were tired, and so after a little while she invited us to sit with herself and her companions for a bit. I can't recall all the things we spoke about, but me and my friends sat in that little shop for a good couple of hours just having a nice time as we exchanged stories with these total strangers who had invited us in when they had no obligation to do so.

It was such a simple act of kindness, but it resulted in having a lovely time filled with deep, stimulating conversation that created a sort of energy that can't be reached between anyone except those who share a common experience, and for all of us there, it was being queer. Our identities varied, but we all could relate to one another in some capacity, and when our group finally braved the crowds again to find somewhere to drink, I know I walked (or squeezed) away feeling a sense of fulfilment and connection I valued a lot, and I would say it was definitely one of the brightest highlights of my time at the event.

My other two experiences came from my time at London Pride, which was the first ever pride event I'd attended. I was with pretty much the same people I went to Brighton with (minus a couple of individuals), and we'd gone to McDonald's to get some food and sat ourselves down on the pavement outside, as there wasn't anywhere else to sit thanks to the throngs of people about. We weren't the only ones doing it, and so I'd say we didn't stand out more than anyone else there. As we finished our shared boxes of nuggets, a man about our age approached us and asked if we knew where the parade was. His accent immediately identified him as being from the states, and he would later tell us that he was in London for work reasons.

Rather than just point him in the right direction, we decided instead to lead him to the parade, and so we accompanied him to one of the many areas the parade was passing through. We made sure we squeezed into a good spot, and I checked that he was satisfied with the view before we settled in to watch the procession pass; thousands of people from big organisations to obscure queer groups parading down the streets being loud, and proud, and utterly fabulous.

It was during this that my other experience actually happened. A man standing beside me complimented me on one of the pride pins I had; a small rainbow with smiling clouds at each end. He told me he was nurse who worked on an HIV ward, and we bonded over being involved in the NHS (I volunteer with SABP Recovery College delivering psychoeducational courses). He was very sweet, and so I decided to give him the pin he'd been admiring, which he was very touched by. He promised me he would wear it every day at work, and we hugged - something I very rarely do, let alone enjoy, when it comes to strangers. But again, there was this connection I felt with this man, born both from helping others, but also being LGBTQ+. It was an oddly powerful moment for me, and I hope my little pride pin is still out there, bringing at least a small amount joy to others.

We stayed there, watching the parade until the end, upon which we decided to take our adopted American friend for a drink. We found a pub that wasn't too busy and sat down to chat. It was here he told us why he was in London, and that he'd taken the opportunity to experience the pride parade while he was here. He also confided that it was probably one of the only opportunities he would have to freely attend such an event, expressing that nobody in his life really knew about his identity, and that he did have fear about how they would respond if they did know.

Again, that connection formed. Some of us, me included, are very lucky to have understanding people around us who will accept, or at least tolerate, our identities. But the fear of coming out is something most queer people can relate to, and so there's this empathy that comes up whenever we encounter those who cannot openly be themselves, or who have yet to come out and are nervous. It felt so very special that my friends and I could give this man the opportunity to be himself for a little while, without fear of judgment or rejection. Even though we were strangers just a couple of hours before, he was among friends.

Before he left, my friend asked if we could take a photo together, and after assuring him it wouldn't be posted online, we all huddled together for a commemorative selfie before he returned to the hotel he was staying at, while myself and my friends also decided to head home.

I'll probably never see any of these people again, but each one of them left me with positive emotions I don't truly have the words for. But I know those emotions are powerful, and that they are born from the connections I made with each individual from these experiences. Being queer gives me the ability to relate to people I otherwise might overlook, and while the community certainly isn't perfect, it still is full of kind, supportive people who are passionate in caring about each other based purely on this common ground we share. It lets us connect.

Reflecting on this reminds me of the connections we can also find in psychological services. Whether as a service user or a professional, mental health binds us all together as humans, and I feel that as a queer individual, I'm able to offer unique perspectives when it comes to my work with psychological professionals and service users. I know that there are some issues still regarding the LGBTQ+ community and mental health services, but I hope that as we continue to move forwards that things will improve, and I certainly will continue to work towards that, both for myself, and my fellow LGBTQ+ members.

If you're still reading this, I want to thank you for taking the time to read my thoughts and wish you a most wonderful day.

Bethany Dudley (She/Her)

PPNSE Expert by Experience