Proud2Be Turns 14: Pride, Pain & Power in Community
Fourteen years ago, Maya (my twin sister) and I sat in front of our shared laptop in our mum’s spare bedroom in our hometown and told the world that we were proud to be.
In some ways, 14 years have flown by. In others, it’s hard to believe it’s only been that long. So much has changed. I’ve healed many old wounds. I’ve met incredible people. I’ve seen the very best in others, but I’ve also seen the worst. I’ve witnessed the self-serving unwillingness to take responsibility, to work through personal struggles, and instead project blame onto people who are simply trying to live—without being persecuted, mocked, or having their fundamental rights stripped away just because a few millionaires decided queer people would make a good distraction from their relentless, unethical, morally bankrupt hunger for more power and influence.
I’ve learnt a lot about myself in those 14 years. More recently, I was diagnosed with ADHD, and I’m currently on the waiting list for an autism assessment. I’ve been sharing this journey with people close to me, and I’m still processing. Almost daily, I have some revelation: this is why I struggled so much, this is why I reacted like that, this is why that moment hurt me so deeply. It’s been a life-changing process—exciting and liberating, but also painful.
At the same time, there’s so much going on socially and politically (I don’t need to spell it out here) that makes being part of a marginalised community even more difficult. I haven’t been able to engage with it all in the ways I used to. I haven’t been as loud. I carry some guilt and shame about that. But as my compassion grows—for myself, a queer, neurodivergent person navigating a world that isn’t built for us—the need to judge or berate myself is becoming less of a default. I thought maybe it was time to be honest about where I’m at.
I’ve never been able to disconnect from injustice. Honestly, there have been many times I wished I could. That’s not me trying to sound self-righteous—it’s part of my neurodivergence. The anger and rage I feel has been a driving force behind my role at Proud2Be. But it also comes at a cost. It’s cruel, unrelenting, and often drains my emotional reserves. I burn out. I feel powerless. Hopeless. I want to fix it all. And when I can’t, it feels like a moral failure.
Certain things help. Mostly, community. Seeing people come together to support one another—whether it’s the neurodivergent community or the queer community—that’s what I’ll be celebrating tomorrow. That moment when people find each other, share their stories, really listen, and just get it. The sense of breathing out. Of knowing there’s a space where you can simply be.
Happy Pride and Happy Birthday, Proud2Be!
If you’d like to learn more about the work we do at Proud2Be, head over to proud2be.org.uk.
