I first attended Pride in 1985, aged 16. Back then it was a mere afternoon in a specific place, not beamed from every media device across the Western world for an entire month. It was a bad time to be un-heterosexual, with AIDS at its height and the popular press taking open, casual delight in the deaths of young men.
Even then, I found the concept of ‘Pride’ as something to be celebrated rather odd. I wasn’t, and am still not, remotely proud, or indeed ashamed, of my sexual orientation. I consider it utterly unremarkable, and ideally, I’d like everybody else to feel that way too.
