Pride Month, Travel, and Being an Ally on the Road
June is Pride Month.
And if I’m being honest, I almost didn’t write this.
Not because I don’t care, but because I do. And I wasn’t sure how to talk about something that, at the end of the day, isn’t my lived experience.
I don’t have a letter in the LGBTQ+ community.
I don’t face the same risks.
I don’t have to think twice before holding someone’s hand in public.
I don’t check laws before entering a country to see if my existence is illegal.
That’s a privilege.
But what I do have are experiences, moments while traveling that reminded me just how different the world can be depending on who you are… and how important it is to say something when it matters.
This isn’t a guide.
This is just my perspective - as a traveler, and as an ally.
Pride isn’t just who you are—it’s who you stand with.
The Privilege of Not Thinking About It
One of the biggest things I’ve realized while traveling is this:
I don’t have to think about my safety in the same way.
As a solo female traveler, yes - I take precautions.
I stay aware.
I trust my gut.
But I don’t travel wondering:
Can I be myself here?
Will I get arrested for who I love?
Do I need to hide part of my identity to stay safe?
That’s a completely different layer of travel.
And it’s one I’ve only really started to understand by watching, listening, and sometimes… being placed in situations where it becomes impossible to ignore.
Travel shows you the world—but it also shows you your privilege.
New Zealand: The Bus Ride That Turned Into a Debate
I was living in New Zealand when the country passed the law allowing same-sex marriage.
It should have been a moment of celebration.
And for many people, it was.
But not for everyone.
I was on a bus one day, just minding my own business, staring out the window like you do when you’re traveling - half thinking, half zoning out.
And then this guy started talking.
At first, it was just background noise.
But then it kept going.
And going.
And going.
He was loudly going on about how:
Gay marriage was wrong
The country was “going downhill”
Society was “losing its values”
You could feel the tension on the bus.
No one said anything.
And that’s the part that stuck with me the most.
Because I kept thinking…
What if someone on this bus was part of the LGBTQ+ community?
What if they were sitting there, listening to someone tear apart their identity… and feeling like they had to stay quiet?
I tried to ignore it.
I really did.
But eventually, I couldn’t.
So, I turned to him and said something along the lines of:
“I'm Canadian. We’ve had gay marriage for years and last I checked, Canada is still the best country on the world, one of the happiest countries in the world, we have a strong economy, clean air… I don’t think letting people marry who they love is the issue. Gay marriage is probably going to make your country better!”
It wasn’t aggressive.
It wasn’t dramatic.
But it was enough.
He stopped.
The bus went quiet again.
And when I got off, someone followed me off the bus and said:
“Thanks for saying something.”
That stuck with me.
Because sometimes being an ally isn’t about big moments.
It’s just about not letting hate go unchecked.
New Zealand gave me beautiful views—and a reminder to speak up when it matters.
South Korea: When Pride Isn’t Just a Celebration
My first Pride experience while traveling was in Seoul, South Korea.
I didn’t really know what to expect.
I got off the subway, and I could hear drums.
Music.
Energy.
And I remember thinking:
This sounds fun.
But the second I came up to street level, that feeling shifted.
Because what I was actually hearing… wasn’t Pride.
It was a protest.
For a split second, my excitement dropped. It was like - oh. Right. This is still something people are fighting against here.
And suddenly, it hit me:
Pride isn’t the same everywhere.
In some places, it’s a party.
In others, it’s still a fight.
But then I kept walking.
There were vendors, flags, music, people dressed up - it had that Pride feeling, just layered with a bit more tension than I expected.
When the parade started, my friends and I had to choose which float to follow.
And somehow, we ended up behind a Sailor Moon float - which honestly felt very on-brand for us.
I was walking with a lesbian couple I was friends with, and as we moved through the streets, we passed groups of protesters.
Some were holding signs.
Some were yelling.
One sign said they “condemn this.”
And I remember thinking:
Condemn what? Love? Identity? Existing?
And honestly… my first thought was:
Wait, are they condemning straight people too? Because that’s what I am.
And that moment made me realize something important:
Pride isn’t just for the LGBTQ+ community.
It’s also for the people who stand with them.
Pride in Seoul—with some of the best people to experience it with.
New York — When Pride Feels Like a Celebration
At the end of that same month, I found myself in New York City.
And this is where my Pride experience got a little… chaotic.
On a Friday, after a full day of sightseeing, my cousin and I decided to grab a drink.
Since my cousin is gay, we figured, why not check out the gay area?
So naturally, we headed to the Stonewall Inn.
(And if you don’t know, this is the place. The Stonewall riots are a huge part of LGBTQ+ history, and a big reason why Pride exists today.)
We came out of the subway and immediately noticed barricades.
Which felt random.
Like… what’s going on?
We went inside, grabbed drinks, started chatting with people, and that’s when we found out:
We had just missed Joe Biden by about 10 minutes.
Of course.
Stonewall—where history was made… and where I just missed a moment.
The next day, we had some extra time and decided to head to Times Square to get some photos.
Simple plan.
In and out.
But as we got there, we realized something was happening.
Music.
Crowds forming.
Energy building.
And then, a drag show.
Right in Times Square.
So naturally… we stayed.
And watched.
And honestly, it was one of those unexpected travel moments that turns out better than anything you planned.
On Sunday, we had planned to catch a bit of the Pride parade before heading to the airport.
Simple, right?
Yeah… no.
What we walked into was absolute chaos.
Wall-to-wall people.
Packed.
No space.
No movement.
The kind of crowd where you’re just… stuck.
And to make it even better?
We had our luggage with us.
Trying to navigate through a Pride parade crowd in New York City… with suitcases… is an experience I wouldn’t necessarily recommend.
We could barely see anything.
Just glimpses of floats between people.
Phones in the air.
Music somewhere in the distance.
But even without seeing much, you could feel it.
The energy.
The celebration.
The scale of it all.
And that was such a contrast to Seoul.
In Seoul, Pride felt like something that still needed to be protected.
In New York, it felt like something that had completely taken over the city.
And that contrast, between Seoul and New York, really stuck with me.
Because it showed just how different the world still is.
New York Pride—crowded, chaotic, and impossible to ignore.
Thailand: The Lesson I Didn’t Expect
One of my favorite experiences came from teaching in Thailand.
Thailand has a very visible “ladyboy” (kathoey) culture, and it’s often talked about in a way that feels… almost casual.
But being there, you realize it’s more nuanced than that.
On my first day of teaching, a student came up to me and said:
“He is a ladyboy.”
And then just… waited.
Like they were expecting a reaction.
A judgment.
Something.
And I remember just saying:
“Okay. Anything else?”
And that was it.
No big moment.
No speech.
No reaction.
Because to me, it wasn’t something that needed one.
But to them, it clearly was.
And I think that’s what stood out.
They were testing the reaction.
Because reactions matter.
Especially in environments where acceptance isn’t always guaranteed.
And here’s the part I didn’t expect:
Some of my best students were the ladyboys.
They were engaged.
Confident.
Hardworking.
Funny.
And honestly, just really good people.
Which sounds obvious… but it’s not always how the world treats them.
That experience reminded me that sometimes being an ally isn’t about saying something.
Sometimes it’s about not making something a big deal when it doesn’t need to be.
Sometimes being an ally is as simple as treating people like… people.
What Travel Teaches You About Acceptance
Travel has a way of exposing the truth.
Not the polished version.
Not the Instagram version.
The real version.
And one of the biggest things it’s shown me is this:
Acceptance isn’t universal.
Some places celebrate it.
Some tolerate it.
Some fight against it.
And depending on where you are, something as simple as being yourself can either be:
Completely normal
Quietly accepted
Or incredibly dangerous
That’s something I don’t have to navigate personally.
But I’ve seen glimpses of it.
And honestly… that’s been enough to change how I see things.
The more places you go, the more you realize how different acceptance can look.
What Being an Ally Actually Means (To Me)
I’m not perfect.
I don’t always know the right thing to say.
I don’t understand every experience.
But being an ally, to me, comes down to a few simple things:
Speak up when something feels wrong (like that bus in New Zealand)
Show up when it matters (like Pride in Seoul)
Normalize what should already be normal (like in my classroom in Thailand)
Listen more than you talk
Recognize your privilege without pretending you understand everything
Because at the end of the day,
I can leave a country.
I can walk away from a situation.
I can go back to a place where I don’t have to think about any of this.
Not everyone has that option.
Being an ally doesn’t stop at borders.
Final Thoughts: Why This Matters While Traveling
Travel changes you.
Not always in big, dramatic ways.
Sometimes it’s just small moments that shift your perspective.
A conversation on a bus.
A protest you didn’t expect.
A student waiting to see how you’ll react.
And those moments add up.
I don’t travel as part of the LGBTQ+ community.
But I travel in a world where that community exists—and is treated differently depending on where you are.
And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this:
Being an ally doesn’t stop when you leave your home country.
If anything,
That’s where it matters more.
Pride, perspective, and a reminder to just let people be themselves.
