Why Pride Is Important, Especially Now: Visibility, Love, and Healing
Recently, a friend asked me why I keep "she, her" visible on my profiles, emails, and signatures. He is a progressive straight man, cis-gender and successful, and he has a gay son he adores and supports without hesitation. But the pronouns, well, he just "doesn't get it."
I had only a minute to answer, so I kept it simple. I told him: "Because I want anyone who is sure about, or wondering about, their gender identity to know they are safe with me. And, this visibility perhaps will also let anyone sure about, or wondering about, their sexual orientation, know they are safe with me. Because one person they are safe with means one person who sees them as valued and loved and important in this world."
That, to me, is close to the heart of why Pride is important. Pride is not only a celebration; it is a steady, quiet message that LGBTQIA+ people are safe here, and that they matter.
But safety is only half of it. Pride is not just something offered to LGBTQIA+ people by others; it is something they claim for themselves. It is the choice to stand tall instead of small, to take up space instead of shrinking into the background, to declare out loud who they are and refuse to apologize for it. Being told they are safe is a gift; deciding to stop hiding is a kind of power. Pride holds both: the tender reassurance that someone has their back, and the fierce, self-respecting act of standing up for themselves.
Every June, streets fill with color, music, and people who have waited a long time to feel free in their own skin. For many it looks like a party, and in many ways it is one. But the deeper answer goes far beyond rainbow flags, and it matters to everyone: to LGBTQIA+ people living it, to the allies standing beside them, and to a wider public learning what it means to make room for one another. For couples especially, Pride can be a tender reminder of how far they have come.
More Than a Parade: Where Pride Began
Pride did not start as a festival. It began as a stand. In June of 1969, a police raid on the Stonewall Inn in New York City sparked days of protest from a community that was tired of being treated like a problem to be hidden. The following year, the first Pride marches stepped off to mark that moment.
So Pride carries two truths at once: it is a celebration, and it is a remembrance. People dance in the streets partly because, not so long ago, simply gathering openly could put their safety, their jobs, or their families at risk. That history feels especially close today. Recent legislative and cultural shifts have moved backward in ways that can feel disheartening, which makes Pride all the more important now. And here is the heart of it: what changes on the outside does not have to mean LGBTQIA+ people regress on the inside. The wider world may grow more cautious, but LGBTQIA+ people can still know, quietly and firmly, that they are proud of who they are.
Why Pride Is Important for Emotional Well-Being
For people who have spent years feeling like they had to shrink, hide, or explain themselves, visibility is not a small thing. It can be genuinely healing.
Visibility and Belonging
Many LGBTQIA+ people grow up feeling like the only one in the room. That sense of being alone can settle in early and stay for a long time. Pride offers something powerful in response: a sea of faces telling them they are not the only ones, and never were. Seeing themselves reflected in a crowd can quietly rewrite an old story of isolation.
Healing From Hidden Years
Living in the closet, or living carefully even after coming out, takes a toll. Psychologists describe the chronic strain of facing stigma and discrimination as minority stress, and it can affect mood, self-worth, and even physical health over time. Pride does not erase that strain, but it pushes back. For one season, the message flips from "be careful" to "be yourself," and that shift can feel like setting down a weight carried for far too long.
Why Pride Matters Even More Right Now
The last couple of years have brought a wave of legislation aimed at rolling back LGBTQIA+ rights, and the effect reaches far beyond statehouses. It settles into everyday life. Many couples who had grown comfortable being visible have quietly returned to old habits that once kept them safe: letting go of each other's hands on the sidewalk, softening the way they dress so they read as less openly queer, lowering their voices in public. These are not failures of confidence; they are understandable acts of self-protection in a climate that feels less certain than it did a few years ago.
This is exactly why Pride matters so much right now. When the wider world feels colder, the affirmation Pride offers becomes less of a luxury and more of a lifeline. And Pride does not have to be loud or public to do its work. For someone in a small rural town, it might be a private, internal experience, a quiet sense of belonging held close while staying safe indoors. Watching Pride events from the comfort of home, seeing crowds of people celebrating exactly who they are, can deliver real validation.
There is a particular joy that can wash over a queer person walking beneath the enormous rainbow flags flying over the Castro, a joy that many straight people struggle to fully grasp. And no one has to be there in person to feel its echo. The validation that comes from witnessing Pride, in any form, is what so many LGBTQIA+ people need most, and that need is only greater now.
What You Can Do, Whether You Are LGBTQIA+ or an Ally
Pride is not only something to feel; it is also something to act on, and there is a role here for everyone. One of the most meaningful things any of us can do right now is to be visibly supportive.
Here is why that matters so much at this moment. Being openly visible carries more risk for LGBTQIA+ people than it did a few years ago, which means the work of visibility cannot rest on their shoulders alone. When allies and community members show their support out loud, they help carry that weight and send a clear signal that no one is standing by themselves.
If you are an ally or a supportive community member, small, visible gestures add up. And you do not have to fully understand every gesture to offer it; like my friend and his pronouns (he, him), you can simply trust that it helps someone feel safe:
Wear a rainbow pin, bracelet, or lanyard.
Put a small flag, sticker, or "safe space" sign on your door, window, car, or desk.
Share your pronouns in your signatures and introductions, and use inclusive language as a matter of course. It is a small signal that quietly tells someone they are safe with you.
Speak up gently (or strongly) when you hear an anti-LGBTQIA+ comment, rather than letting it pass.
Attend, volunteer at, or donate to a local Pride event or LGBTQIA+ organization.
Check in on the LGBTQIA+ people in your life, and follow their lead on how visible they want to be.
Contact your representatives about legislation that affects LGBTQIA+ rights.
If you are LGBTQIA+ and being publicly visible does not feel safe right now, your pride can still be active in quieter ways: connecting with affirming online communities, supporting organizations that protect your rights, or surrounding yourself with people and spaces that remind you that you belong. Visibility and safety are both valid, and you get to choose your own balance.
What Pride Means for Couples
If you share your life with a partner, Pride can hold a special kind of meaning. There was a time, within living memory, when your relationship could not be acknowledged out loud, let alone celebrated. To walk together, to be photographed together, to simply exist as a couple in public, not to mention get married, is something earlier generations fought hard to make possible.
For some couples, Pride becomes an anniversary of sorts. For others, it surfaces tender feelings. One partner may feel completely at ease being out, while the other still carries hesitation shaped by family, faith, or a less accepting hometown. Those differences are normal, especially in an uncertain climate, and they are worth talking about gently rather than glossing over.
Carrying Pride Beyond June
The heart of Pride is not really about a single month. It is about the ongoing choice whether to live authentically, out loud, and to love without shame, a choice that can be wonderful and, often, complicated, especially when the world outside your front door is not always kind, or even humane.
If Pride season brings up old wounds, family tension, fresh worry about the climate, or differences between you and a partner about how visible to be, that is worth honoring rather than ignoring. Talking these things through, with the people you trust and sometimes with support, can help you move through them with more closeness and less weight.
So why is Pride important to LGBTQIA+ people? Because being seen heals, because community reminds us we are not alone, and because love, openly lived, is something to celebrate, even when celebrating quietly is the safest path. And it comes back to what I told my friend: being one person someone is safe with means being one person who sees them as valued and loved and important in this world. Wherever you are on that journey, whether you are living this experience yourself or standing beside someone who is, you can be that person - the seen one or the safe one - and you deserve to feel proud of the life and community you are helping to build.
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