Chichester Pride: A Place to Belong

Before I moved to Chichester, I didn’t think I would ever have the opportunity to attend a Pride parade. I am extremely introverted, fond of routines and rarely feel comfortable showing up as myself. I previously lived in a local area which did not have a Pride; there would perhaps be one token rainbow flag on the entire high street, and the local queer community was non-existent. As an autistic person, I face multiple barriers to attending larger Prides in a big city; the travel, sensory overload and overwhelming crowds make them inaccessible to me. I would watch videos of large Prides online, and wonder what was wrong with me. I am not loud, or confident, or hugely visible in my sexuality, and the thought of being perceived makes me inherently uncomfortable. As beautiful as the glitter and camaraderie was, I didn’t see a space for myself within it: a quiet bookworm who would prefer to celebrate at home by reading the latest sapphic fiction.

Soon after moving to Chichester, I visited the Out and Proud exhibition created by Chichester Pride in conjunction with the Novium Museum. Seeing the generosity of local queer people sharing their stories was a moving and humbling experience, and looking around me at the diverse nature of the room, I started to feel that Chichester could be a place where I might be accepted. I got in touch with Chichester Pride shortly after, and I was offered the incredible opportunity to join them as Parade Assistant.

The volunteering role was perfect: low-demand enough that I would not become burnt out, but still integral to the organisation of Chichester Pride. I felt immediately welcomed into the local queer community, and I began to build skills and confidence which exceeded my expectations of what I thought I would be able to achieve in my first year living in Chichester. From existing on the periphery of rooms my whole life, I had finally been invited into the centre, and it felt amazing.

The role was varied and challenging, and gave me a newfound appreciation for anyone who gives their time to help charities like Chichester Pride keep going. I was invited to meetings, trusted to document the process of organising the parade, and even researched and approached local organisations, inviting them to march with us. Being involved from start to finish gave me a newfound respect for anyone who works behind the scenes at charities such as Chichester Pride: the process is full of administrative hurdles and intense organisation, none of which would be possible without the dedication and grit of the team behind it all. My fellow volunteers’ determined and positive attitudes kept my focus firmly on the end goal of putting on a parade to show Chichester what it is to be proud, and I would not have got there without them.

As important as Pride is, it is not without its challenges. At a time when the future of queer rights feels uncertain at best, especially for trans and non-binary people, we knew that we would have to work harder than ever to make this Pride a safe space for all. Chichester Pride has a nuanced awareness of the beautiful diversity of the LGBTQIA+ community, which extends beyond gender and sexuality to disability and neurodivergence.

Being autistic, I am used to masking my discomfort in order to fit in, but joining the Chichester Pride team was a uniquely positive experience. I never once felt pressured to show up in a way I wasn’t comfortable with, and my requests for regular breaks and sensory aids on the day to manage my autistic overload were met with zero resistance. Going from being refused work experience opportunities due to my autism to being welcomed with open arms by Chichester Pride restored my confidence in my capabilities, and the fact that I have a lot offer.

I was also heartened to see that Chichester Pride had a dedicated quiet zone for neurodivergent people, something I hope will be built upon and continued in future years. This year’s theme was unity, something which for me certainly translated successfully into the event itself. Although the parade was still noisy and busy, I felt supported to manage it in a way that worked for me as an autistic person; I finally had the opportunity to celebrate my queer and neurodivergent identities in the same day. The dichotomy of the queer community not being accessible to me, when it was supposed to be there to uplift me, was a difficult one to come to terms with.

There is a long way to go for Prides to become universally accessible, not just for autistic people like me, but for all disabled people, no matter their access needs. Studies indicate that anywhere from 30% to 52% of the LGBTQIA+ community is also disabled, and yet are marginalised by both queer and heteronormative society. This is a large portion of the queer community whose needs are not prioritised when it comes to designing Prides; it is not just about raising awareness of LGBTQ+ rights, but about continuing to advocate with those in the community whose identities sit at the intersection of marginalised spaces.

Chichester Pride can be, I hope, an example to other Prides around the country and across the world of how to be there for the whole of their community, or at the very least take important steps towards being so.

Pride is not just for people with large social batteries who are able-bodied and have the stamina to party all night long: queerness can show up quietly, and this manifestation is no less powerful. It is simply different, and in a space where difference is cherished, I hope that respect for divergent identities extends into respect for disability, personality and capacity.

Being involved with Chichester Pride has shown me that my way of celebrating who I am is valid, even if it doesn’t look how other people think it should. Having my voice valued as a volunteer is something I hope to use to continue to advocate for those of us who dwell in the crossroads between communities.

If you’re anything like me and considering approaching Chichester Pride, please don’t hesitate to get in touch. We’d love to have you working with us to help you celebrate your Pride in your way, whether that’s up on the main stage or cheering things on from the sidelines.

Chichester Pride is a safe space for me, and I feel incredibly privileged to have been a part of it. I know that next year, even if I have to dip out after the parade to decompress at home with a biscuit and cosy queer romance novel, that I will still be welcome, as connected and a part of things as anyone else there.