Pride marches are louder, prouder, and more powerful than ever. Streets lined with rainbow flags, glitter-soaked cheeks, and fierce signs are a signature of every June—but behind the glam, the reason for marching still matters. In a year when anti-LGBTQ laws and hate are again on the rise, showing up in numbers has never been more vital. Pride isn’t just a party; it’s an act of courage, resilience, and unity. Every smile, kiss, and dance move on the parade route is also a reminder: we’re still here, and we’re not going anywhere.

Zooming out, Pride has transformed into a global phenomenon. From New York to Nairobi, queer people are marching to demand better—and to celebrate how far we’ve come. Pride events now include trans rights campaigns, Black queer organizing, youth-led advocacy, and powerful calls for intersectional equality. While cities compete for the title of “most fabulous parade,” the real impact is the shared power of voices rising together across borders. Pride has evolved from a protest into a platform—and it’s a stage no one’s giving up.

Whether you’re a seasoned activist or a first-time marcher, today’s Pride marches offer a pulse check on where the LGBTQ community stands. The energy is infectious. The visuals are dazzling. And the message is crystal clear: Pride is personal, but it’s also political. If you’re not moved by the sheer emotion of the crowd, you’re probably not paying attention. Keep reading to find out why showing up at a Pride march still matters—and how each glittery face in the crowd is rewriting queer history.

The Protest Never Ended

Though Pride today often looks like a party, it was born out of unrest. The Stonewall uprising in 1969 wasn’t a parade—it was a riot. Marsha P. Johnson and Sylvia Rivera weren’t dancing for joy; they were fighting to survive. That legacy isn’t just a footnote—it’s the foundation. Pride marches today still channel that spirit of defiance. And as new waves of anti-LGBTQ rhetoric and legislation surge, protest remains at the core of Pride.

Across North America, queer communities are once again facing threats to bodily autonomy, gender identity, and basic human rights. From anti-trans healthcare bans to attempts to ban drag, lawmakers are trying to silence queer voices. Marching is one of the loudest ways to say: “We won’t be erased.” It’s an act of resistance that continues to evolve with each generation, fueled by outrage and love in equal measure.

Attending a Pride march is no longer a radical act for many—but for others, it still is. In small towns, rural areas, and conservative regions, walking down Main Street with a rainbow flag can be terrifying and transformative. That’s why visibility matters. Showing up isn’t just about who sees you—it’s about who sees that you’re not afraid. It’s solidarity made public.

Community, Connection, and Coming Together

One of the most powerful aspects of modern Pride is its ability to bring people together. Whether you’re waving to strangers, dancing next to chosen family, or holding the hand of your partner in public for the first time, Pride marches today foster connection. They’re open-air reminders that nobody is alone. The sea of rainbow faces becomes a mosaic of shared identity, collective struggle, and queer joy.

For many, Pride is the first time they truly feel seen. Young people especially benefit from witnessing a crowd of LGBTQ individuals celebrating unapologetically. It offers them a glimpse into what a future of self-acceptance could look like. It also provides role models—elders, allies, drag queens, activists—who all play a part in the broader queer ecosystem.

Beyond the individual connections, Pride marches also create space for advocacy. Queer organizations, healthcare providers, legal aid groups, and mutual aid networks often march alongside partygoers. That intersection of visibility and resources is powerful. It reminds attendees that the work of community building continues long after the confetti settles. Pride isn’t just one day—it’s a kickoff for year-round action.

The Politics of Joy

There’s something radical about joy in a world that often tells queer people they’re not supposed to feel it. The sparkle, the feathers, the chants, and cheers—it all serves a deeper purpose. Pride marches today use joy as a tool. It’s a counterstrike to shame. A way of reclaiming space. Every sequin and high-heeled stomp down the street is a refusal to be invisible.

And yet, that joy is never without its politics. When marginalized communities celebrate themselves publicly, it disrupts norms. It challenges heteronormative standards of who belongs in public spaces. That disruption is what makes Pride so powerful. It’s not assimilation—it’s transformation. It’s queer people setting the rules for their own party.

Still, it’s important to balance celebration with intention. Pride isn’t a corporate-sponsored day off from activism. It’s a continuation of it. Brands that show up for the party but stay silent the rest of the year aren’t allies—they’re opportunists. True Pride means holding space for both joy and justice. The glitter isn’t just decoration—it’s war paint.

Why We Still March

Some people question whether Pride marches are still necessary. Haven’t we made enough progress? But for every right gained, there are threats to roll it back. The fight for equality is ongoing, and Pride is a critical tool in that fight. Visibility is resistance. Public celebration is political. And coming together in numbers sends a clear message: we will not be pushed back into the closet.

Pride marches also serve as real-time responses to political moments. When anti-trans bills hit state legislatures, when queer youth are bullied, when drag is attacked—Pride becomes the rallying cry. It’s a moving billboard for freedom and dignity. Marching says, “We’re paying attention.” And more importantly, “We demand better.”

There’s no single way to experience Pride. You don’t have to wear glitter. You don’t need a sign. But being there matters. Being part of a community that shows up for itself is powerful. Whether you cheer from the sidewalk or walk the entire route, your presence adds to the power of the day. And in 2025, that presence is still revolutionary.

What Pride Looks Like Now

Today’s Pride marches are more inclusive, more diverse, and more intersectional than ever before. You’ll see trans flags, Black Lives Matter signs, Indigenous drummers, and immigrants sharing their stories. The days of only cis white gay men leading the parade are fading. In their place, a richer, fuller picture of the LGBTQ community is stepping forward.

That evolution didn’t happen overnight. It took years of organizing, listening, and adjusting. And while there’s still work to do, the direction is promising. Modern Pride reflects the complexities of identity and the richness of experience. It holds space for everyone, from drag artists to activists to two-spirit elders. Everyone belongs.

What’s powerful is that the change has come from within. Queer communities are leading the charge to make Pride better, more inclusive, and more representative. That energy is contagious. It keeps people coming back year after year—not just for the glitter, but for the growth. Pride marches today don’t just reflect the moment—they help shape what’s next.

Keep Marching Forward

The parade may end at the festival grounds, but the fight continues long after the last float passes. Pride marches today are still a bold declaration of existence, love, and hope. They’re proof that joy and resistance can go hand in hand. And they remind us all that every step we take together pushes the movement forward.

What does Pride mean to you? Drop your thoughts, experiences, and stories in the comments—we want to hear your voice.