Pride Is Dead. Long Live Pride.

The Vital Lesson I Needed To Be Reminded Of

The man was about 50 and wearing a mohawk of two-foot-tall rainbow feathers.

A beer belly hung out over tiny 80’s style athletic shorts, glitter coated his shoulders, and streaked down his chest. “Where did you get that little bag?” he shouted at me. I took him in, stunned, and then pointed him towards a pair of twenty-somethings handing out matches and stasher bags, advertising a weed boutique.

A half block further, a massive yellow bus with the iconic Grindr logo took up the rest of the street. A line snaked away from a game-show wheel where people were taking their chances spinning to win premium subscriptions, clack fans, and even AWAYxGindr-branded cross-body bags. And they were not the only vendor to have such a prodigious line. Booth after booth gave away free branded merch, and the people clamored for it all.

Casey and I left the street fair with enough sunscreen for at least four summers, more beverages than we could carry, bags, matches, and hydration packets galore.

This was the official NYC Pridefest, and it was the highlight of my Pride weekend because it taught me something vital that I’m ashamed to say I’d forgotten.

See, as I had gotten dressed that morning in my little black and rainbow crop top, I turned to Casey and said, “Something about wearing this rainbow makes me feel young.” I felt a little embarrassed at my desire to wear a rainbow, because it is a public display that I have big feelings about being Gay. It felt like something that I’m supposed to have grown out of. But duh, I have big feelings about it. I love being gay. It’s one of the pillars of my personality.

So when I walked along 10th street amongst the fellow revelers, I felt that embarrassment melt away. Something about the corporate support (controversial, I know), the wild mix of generations, and the vastly different types of people made my heart sing. Seeing people unabashedly dressed up in rainbows, with colorful makeup, with body paint, with glitter, was a reminder that this is a community rooted in so much joy and far more powerful than the right wants us to believe.

But what warmed my heart the most was watching the baby Queers. It could have been their first pride or fifth, but the joy and revelry that they had strutting down 5th Avenue in the middle of the day was an infectious joy I didn’t realize I’d been missing.

It made me think about my first Pride in New York.

Back in 2017, I watched the parade from the rooftop of the Museum of Sex, I hopped the fence and walked in the parade. I went to another rooftop party. I was shuttled around by friends who wanted to show me the same experience they had had years before. I had never seen anything like it. The cheering, the smiling, the community between strangers. I’d never felt more joy. And now that I’ve experienced almost a decade's worth of Prides, I found that I needed to be reminded of that from the youth that I saw.

They reminded me about the strength of visibility and joy.

They reminded me about the strength of community.

Queer community has always been a battery recharger for me. Just being in a crowd of fellow Queer people fills my cup like nothing else. Watching a crowd erupt as someone smashes double dutch on the Christopher Street pier did that. Watching an incredible individual whack and vogue on the grass for no one but themselves did that. Watching a same-sex couple hold hands and take in the view did that.

All of these filled my cup, and all of these are defiant acts in 2025.

But what do they look like now that it’s July?

Long Live Pride

There’s always a bit of a comedown after Pride month is over. I’ve seen so many articles this week about the complex relationships we have to Pride and how this one singular weekend did or did not live up to those expectations we may have had. The parts of my weekend I was most looking forward to did not end up being the parts that I most enjoyed. But now that I’ve been inspired by all the baby Queers I saw, I’m feeling even more empassioned to make sure that my energy in July, August, and onward matches my energy in June.

What does that look like for me? It’s taking a few routes.

1. Be More Visible

Visibility can come in many forms. It can look like a flag in a window or hanging off a porch. It can look like a rainbow watch band. It can look like funny shirts with Queer slogans (Eat pussy, it’s organic). It can look like holding hands with someone on the street or smiling at other Queer folk. It can look like making art and posting it online. It can look like so many things, and they’re all important.

It is vital to be visible now in whatever way feels safe to you. Kids around the country are being told something’s wrong with them. They’re being fed conversion therapy wrapped in self-help by the algorithms that are supposed to bring us together. Even me, someone who is so entrenched in Queer culture, needed the reminder.

So I vow to be more visible this month than I was last.

2. Use My Dollars Wisely

Visibility is one form of support, but not always the strongest. In this time of economic uncertainty, supporting small Queer businesses makes a huge impact. I can attest to this firsthand; every person who pays me for my Substack makes my entire day. It may be $6, but to me it is so much more. It’s an email that says “I am here for you. I believe in you. You matter.“

And all it takes is a simple Google search to find out what companies are LGBTQ+ or allied. Take a moment to check out Everywhere is Queer or Hey Famm to find some incredible Queer businesses. And if you don’t live in a place where suporting Queer folk directly is simple, you can always try to direct your funds to companies that are still standing strong in their DEI policies like Costco!

3. Spread Love, Build Qmunity

This last one is the more abstract, but the one that makes me most inspired. I think the Queer community is hurtling towards an inflection point. Society’s global individualism of the past 15 years is starting to bring Queer folk to a place where it feels like more divides us than unites us.

In the coming weeks, I’m going to be writing a lot about those societal changes that are actively making us less happy, less intelligent, less united, and less kind. There are so many unseen forces at play, but I know that we have the tools necessary to combat them.

I cannot wait to continue to explore the many ways in which we can find unity and common ground again as the fight for our rights becomes even more heated. I cannot wait to learn more about all of you, my readers, so that we can truly start to build something that feels like a true community (so please, leave comments, send me messages, I want to know who’s out there).

But it will not be easy. There is a lot of discomfort that is necessary for growth, and we have so much growth ahead. It may even require some sacrifice of the creature comforts that we have become so accustomed to.

And in that same vein, it will be vital for us all to remember that each person could use a bit more grace than we are used to giving. Everyone is on their own journey, and in my heart, I know that most all Queer folk are striving towards the same goals.

So now that Pride is over, the real work begins. The work to build community rooted in kindness, respect, and unapologetic Queerness. It will be hard work and it may be uncomfortable work, but on the other side I see a community of people who come together and unite for the betterment of all Queer people.

Let’s stay Proud. Forever. Together.

Are you with me?