NOT SO PROUD OF PRIDE: How the New Face of the Movement Excludes So Many and Rewards So Few
- lhpgop
- Jun 6
- 3 min read
Once a defiant cry for equality and inclusion, Pride Month has become a mirror of everything the original gay and lesbian rights movement fought against: elitism, exclusion, and political spectacle. For many who once marched under the rainbow flag in pursuit of civil rights—not special rights—the current iteration of Pride is unrecognizable.
The goal then was simple: the right to marry, adopt, live openly, and be left alone. But today, the “Pride” brand has become a vehicle for ideological conformity, sexual exhibitionism, and political power games. The result? A movement that excludes more than it includes, and that seems to reward only those who play by its new, often unspoken rules.
"I have nothing to declare except my genius," Oscar Wilde speaking to a US customs agent when arriving in New York, 1822
From Civil Rights to Cultural Tribes
In the late 20th century, gays and lesbians were fighting to be seen as equal citizens—not as cultural revolutionaries. Their arguments were rooted in shared values: love, family, privacy, and the desire to contribute to society without being punished for who they loved. These were values that resonated across political lines.
But those victories—culminating in landmark cases like Obergefell v. Hodges (2015)—did not close the chapter. Instead, they marked the start of a transformation. With marriage rights secured and legal discrimination reduced, the movement morphed from one seeking integration to one demanding affirmation and submission. Pride became not just a celebration of freedom but a month-long performance of identity, ideology, and political allegiance.
"To be regularly gay was to end every day at the same time after they had been regularly gay" Gertrude Stein
The New Face of Pride: Radicalism and Reward
Today, Pride is dominated not by the legacy of the gay and lesbian struggle for dignity but by a sprawling, increasingly militant alphabet of identities. The “LGB” has been submerged beneath the louder and more aggressive politics of the “TQ+,” where biological realities are debated, language is policed, and dissent is punished.
Lesbians are criticized for not dating trans women. Gay men are told their preferences might be “exclusionary.” Family-oriented LGB individuals are increasingly unwelcome in Pride spaces that prioritize shock value and ideological conformity over community or respectability.
Meanwhile, corporate sponsors—once seen as signs of acceptance—now use Pride as a branding opportunity. The rewards go not to those who live quietly and respectfully, but to activists, influencers, and opportunists who champion the most radical positions. The face of Pride has become more about visibility than values.
Who’s Being Left Out?
Gay and lesbian families who wanted dignity, not indoctrination.
Bisexuals and detractors who refuse to conform to the current orthodoxy.
Older activists who find modern Pride alienating and embarrassing.
Straight allies who feel that disagreement with the fringe makes them enemies of the whole.
This new hierarchy of identity doesn't unify—it fragments. It pits groups against each other while reserving praise and reward for those who echo the most extreme narratives.
Pride or Performance?
What was once a courageous stand for acceptance has become, in too many cases, a month-long performance of grievance, gender theory, and public spectacle. Drag queens reading to toddlers. Nudity and kink in the streets. A policing of pronouns that makes honest conversation impossible. A branding exercise so empty that even committed gay people are quietly opting out.
The cost is credibility—and the public knows it. Pride is now seen by many as just another performative, politicized ritual, much like Black Lives Matter devolved into, or Antifa before it. Movements that began with moral clarity, but lost themselves in radicalism and spectacle.
The Way Back
The answer isn’t to erase Pride. It’s to reclaim it. Not for radicals or ideologues, but for everyday people who are proud of who they are—not because it makes them special, but because they refused to live in fear.
True pride comes not from public displays or institutional sponsorships, but from the quiet confidence of a life well-lived—with dignity, responsibility, and shared values.
If Pride wants to endure, it must return to its roots: inclusion without coercion, identity without arrogance, and respect without demand.
Until then, don’t be surprised if more and more people—gay, straight, and everything in between—aren’t so proud of Pride.
To discover just how far afield some of this has gone, read the essay at this link:
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