I have been attending Pride since I was seventeen. Sometimes it has been with queer friends, sometimes it has been alone, and once it was with a close friend who was an ally. But no matter who I have or haven’t gone with, Pride has always been phenomenal because in the “clerb,” we are all family—and at Pride, we are all a community. I have been privileged enough to never feel out of place at Pride events, unlike some of my friends, whose experiences definitely make me believe that we need to keep working to do better. Somehow, my experience has been such that the Pride parades and events I have sought out have been intentional, inclusive, and accessible. Nothing has ever felt missing.

Pride is about all of us—despite what news headlines might suggest, it goes beyond attraction. It is about celebrating every aspect of our inner and outer selves. So when my girlfriend and I made plans to go to a Pride event together this year, I did not expect it to be too different from the previous years. I had been in a long-term relationship before, but since it was long-distance, my lover never ended up coming to Pride with me. That was not a big deal, but it meant that this would be completely new to me.

It started with us getting ready at her house. I had brought my pride glitter and face paints, and I quickly learned that there is a unique intimacy—a poetic chemistry—to two queer lovers sitting with colors in their hands, taking turns to hold up the mirror and fix each other’s body art. I wore my “Chaotic Bisexual” t-shirt and my femme necklace, while my gorgeous partner wore a trans ally t-shirt. Dressing for Pride—whether with or without someone—is always a kind of undressing as well. And it was comforting to know that I was seen and recognized even before I reached the venue because we look at each other like that.

We soon made our way to the ground where the event was taking place, and the colorful flags dancing in the wind made me smile wide even from a distance. They had organized it like a fun fair, with rides, stalls, and great stages, yet somehow the huge ground felt like a cozy, safe space. I had never kissed someone at Pride before, and it was so freeing to be in a space where we did not have to look around to check whether we were safe before being affectionate toward each other. So much of your time as a queer couple in public goes into worrying about someone turning out to be a queerphobe, and the very real danger in them clocking you; but here, the point was all of us being acknowledged.

One of my favorite things we did was just sit on the grass with drinks in our hands, our bodies swaying to the music that the drag queens were performing. There was no masking, no performative behavior, no shrinking ourselves to make someone else feel comfortable. We also got to see queer parents playing with their toddlers and running after their preteens, which was such a joy—and unfortunately, something I had not witnessed before this occasion. When we made our way to the thrift stall, she tried on a bunch of sunglasses and I praised her fierceness. When we heard a familiar song, we decided to join in on the dancing. The important thing was not what we were doing, but that there was so much affirmation in being seen by each other and everyone else around us.

You know that little look of recognition that queer people and couples share with each other in the wild? We were constantly in the middle of having that moment with so many people at once! And whenever we needed a little bit of rest, we had each other’s arms to fall into. Our little family of two sat with a sense of belonging among our larger family of many—and for those few hours, everything was perfect in the world.

Pride was still about both of us individually, but we were here together, cheering and rooting for each other, screaming lyrics together, and watching the clouds drift across a queer sky—and that made it a tiny bit about us as a couple as well. Going to Pride with my lover was not “more” or “less” than my previous Pride experiences—it was just a little bit different and a whole lot of “I would 100% do this again!”