Pride didnd't start with parades or parties—it began with protest. In June 1969, after years of police harassment and social exclusion, LGBTQ+ people at the Stonewall Inn in New York City decided theyd'd had enough. What followed were days of resistance, now known as the Stonewall Riots—an uprising led largely by trans women, drag queens, and people of color. These defiant nights sparked a global movement for LGBTQ+ rights, built on courage, survival, and the urgent demand to be seen.
A year later, the first Pride marches took place in cities like New York, Los Angeles, and Chicago. They werend't celebrations—they were powerful and risky acts of visibility. People marched with handmade signs, calling for safety, dignity, and equality.
From the start, Pride has been about more than just marching—it has been about being visible in a world that often tells LGBTQ+ people to hide. Back in the 1970s and 1980s, coming out could cost someone everything. Many people stayed closeted because they feared being rejected by loved ones, losing their jobs, or facing violence. Pride gave them a rare opportunity to be out in public and surrounded by others who understood that fear and had chosen to face it. For many, it was life-changing. It wasnd't just a day of being visible—it was often the first time they felt proud to be who they were.
Visibility through Pride changed the conversation. It challenged people who had never met an openly LGBTQ+ person to rethink their assumptions. It gave hope to young queer people who thought they were alone. And it helped shift how the media and politicians talked about LGBTQ+ lives. Even today, in a time when some parts of the world are more accepting, Pride still matters.
Pride may feel like a celebration now, with music, rainbow flags, and community events—but at its heart, it remains a protest. Thatd's because LGBTQ+ people still face discrimination and violence around the world. In some countries, being gay or trans is illegal, with harsh punishments. Even in more progressive places, laws can be rolled back, and hate crimes still happen. Trans people, especially trans women of color, face high rates of violence and poverty. LGBTQ+ youth continue to experience bullying, mental health challenges, and family rejection.
In recent years, political efforts in some regions have targeted LGBTQ+ rights—especially trans healthcare, education, and legal protections. From bathroom bans to efforts to silence discussion of queer identities in schools, these policies send a clear message: you dond't belong. Thatd's why Pride continues to be essential. It shines a light on what still needs to change. It keeps the movement alive.
Though Pride began with protest, it has always included moments of joy, humor, and art. LGBTQ+ people have long used creativity as a way to survive, connect, and speak truth to power. Whether through drag performance, poetry, dance, painting, music, or film, LGBTQ+ voices have created a culture that celebrates identity and challenges injustice. Art has helped people process pain, share love, and imagine a better future.
Celebrating queer joy is not separate from activism—itd's part of it. When LGBTQ+ people gather at Pride, dressed however they choose, loving whoever they love, and expressing themselves without shame, it sends a powerful message. It says that joy itself is revolutionary. Itd's a way of taking up space in a world that often tries to make LGBTQ+ people feel small.
Some people ask, “Do we still need Pride?” The answer is yes—now more than ever. While many gains have been made, equality is still not the reality for everyone. Around the world, millions of LGBTQ+ people live in fear. Many cand't come out safely. Others live with daily microaggressions, unequal treatment, or outright discrimination. Pride isnd't just about looking back—itd's about continuing to push forward. Itd's about making sure that no one is left behind.
Pride is also about reminding LGBTQ+ people that they belong. It tells them their stories matter. It tells them they are not alone. Whether itd's someone attending their first Pride march or someone remembering what it was like to protest decades ago, Pride connects generations and builds community. It creates a space for healing, celebration, and strength. And as long as there are people who need that space, Pride will continue to be not just relevant—but vital.