There’s something profoundly beautiful about seeing two women share a kiss at Pride. It’s tender, unapologetic, and full of power. It reminds us that love — in all its forms — is still the most radical act of queer defiance.

As gay men, we’re often surrounded by rainbows and representation. We’ve built an entire culture around visibility — from the dance floor to the digital space. But somewhere along the way, our lesbian sisters have been pushed to the edges of that visibility. They were there in the marches, the protests, and the parades long before many of us could even whisper the word “gay.” And yet, today, their stories, bars, and spaces continue to disappear at an alarming rate.

International Lesbian Day is a reminder — not a celebration, but a call to action. Because if we truly believe in equality, it can’t just be about us. It has to be about all of us.

Lesbian History Built Our Movement

Before there was a rainbow flag flying at every Pride parade, there were queer women — marching, fighting, and bleeding for LGBTQ+ rights. Names like Marsha P. Johnson, Stormé DeLarverie, and Audre Lorde didn’t just make history; they made us.

Lesbian activists were among the first to organize queer collectives, health centers, and legal advocacy networks. During the AIDS crisis, when many turned away from gay men, it was lesbian nurses, caregivers, and allies who stepped up to help our community survive.

It’s easy to forget that Pride didn’t start as a party — it started as a protest. And in that protest, lesbians stood shoulder-to-shoulder with gay men, trans people, drag queens, and bisexuals. They weren’t just allies. They were leaders.

Today, the least we can do is honor that legacy by showing up — loudly, proudly, and without hesitation — for lesbian love, lesbian visibility, and lesbian rights.

The Vanishing Lesbian Spaces

Walk through most major cities, and you’ll find gay bars everywhere — but how many lesbian bars can you name? In the United States, fewer than 30 remain. That number should shock you.

While gay men have built global destinations like Fire Island, Sitges, and Puerto Vallarta, lesbian communities have watched their spaces fade into memory. It’s not because the need isn’t there — it’s because the support hasn’t been.

Our lesbian sisters deserve the same spaces to connect, celebrate, and love freely. And we, as gay men, have the power to help preserve and promote those spaces. Showing up for a lesbian-owned bar, a queer women’s event, or even sharing their work online isn’t charity — it’s solidarity.

Because if we don’t protect our community’s diversity, we risk losing the very essence of what makes us queer: unity through difference.

The Power of Showing Up

Showing up doesn’t have to mean marching in a parade or posting a hashtag. It can be as simple as amplifying lesbian voices, supporting lesbian creators, or attending events that center queer women.

It means reading the books, watching the films, and listening to the music made by lesbian artists — not because it’s Pride Month, but because it’s part of our culture.

It means challenging ourselves when we notice double standards — like when a lesbian couple’s affection gets labeled “too much” while gay male PDA is celebrated. The photo of two women kissing isn’t just about love; it’s about courage. Public affection between queer women still sparks controversy in ways that highlight how far we have yet to go.

Being visible and being vocal are two different things. Gay men have mastered visibility — we own the spotlight. But vocal allyship? That’s where we need to do better.

Allyship Means More Than Tolerance

Allyship isn’t about tolerance. It’s about transformation. It means using our privilege as gay men — our platforms, our voices, our media spaces — to uplift lesbians when the world refuses to listen.

We can’t talk about queer equality if we’re silent when lesbian athletes face discrimination, when queer women are excluded from media representation, or when trans and non-binary lesbians are erased from conversations altogether.

We don’t get to pick and choose which parts of the LGBTQ+ alphabet matter most to us. The “L” isn’t just the first letter — it’s the foundation of the acronym that holds us together.

Real allyship means checking our own biases, too. Many gay men have internalized stereotypes about lesbians — that they’re too political, too masculine, too “different.” Those stereotypes are rooted in the same homophobia that once targeted us. If we expect straight people to dismantle theirs, we need to dismantle ours.

Love Is Love — But Support Is Action

We love to say “Love is Love,” but how often do we back it up with action? The photo of two women sharing a kiss isn’t just a moment; it’s a message. It says, “We exist. We love. We deserve to be seen.”

And when gay men like me share or celebrate that image, we’re not just admiring a picture — we’re amplifying a truth. Lesbian love deserves the same admiration and protection that we give to every form of queer expression.

Supporting the lesbian community isn’t about guilt or obligation. It’s about gratitude. Because without lesbian activists, artists, and leaders, the modern gay experience wouldn’t exist.

From the radical feminism of the ’70s to the marriage equality movements and queer representation in pop culture today, lesbians have always carried part of the weight of our freedom. The least we can do is carry part of theirs.

It’s Time to Rebalance the Spotlight

Gay men dominate queer media, nightlife, and entertainment — but we don’t have to dominate the narrative. We can share the stage.

When we center lesbian voices in podcasts, interviews, or social media collaborations, we create a more balanced reflection of our shared community. When we attend lesbian-led events or Pride programming that doesn’t revolve around us, we normalize inclusivity beyond our own echo chamber.

Representation isn’t a zero-sum game. It’s a group project. And it’s long past time we acted like it.

From Pride to Practice

Showing up for lesbian love isn’t about one day on the calendar — it’s a practice. It’s how we speak, how we consume media, and how we connect in everyday life.

It’s in the way we talk about lesbians — not as an “other” within our own community, but as equals, partners, and family. It’s in the way we choose to show empathy when a lesbian friend tells us her story of discrimination, rather than centering our own experience.

When we uplift each other, we create a stronger, more united queer culture — one that reflects all the love stories, not just the ones that look like ours.

The Kiss That Says Everything

That photo — two women kissing in public, surrounded by a crowd that probably doesn’t even notice — says everything. It’s love, it’s pride, and it’s defiance wrapped into one beautiful moment.

If you’re a gay man reading this, here’s your reminder: show up. Be the friend who shares lesbian stories. Tip the lesbian bartender. Go to their shows. Vote for policies that protect their rights.

Because love is love — but solidarity is how love survives.

Join the Conversation

How do you show up for your lesbian friends, sisters, and allies? Share your thoughts in the comments below. Let’s make support more than a slogan — let’s make it a habit.