This piece was written to be part of the Guardian’s Pride coverage. I agreed to write it before I knew about Freddy McConnell and Vic Parsons’ decision to pull their contributions and decline future work with the Guardian and Observer. I have chosen to publish with them before because I felt that it was important that their readers hear trans people’s voices in addition to the trans-exclusionary views they regularly publish. On this occasion, however, I felt that going ahead with publishing the piece in the Guardian would undermine Freddy and Vic’s brave and principled actions.
I’ve often joked with my friends that two major milestones in a queer person’s life are the first Pride you go to, and the first Pride you don’t.
By 2018, I had largely stopped attending London Pride (technically called ‘Pride in London’, to avoid confusion with the beer). The sensory overwhelm for an autistic person like me, combined with the sweeping corporatisation, made it increasingly unappealing. But that year was different.
