Why is May 17 so important?
Every year, on May 17, the world raises its voice to make visible a reality that, unfortunately, is still too present: LGTBIQ+phobia. We are not just talking about physical attacks, although they exist and they hurt. We also talk about looks that kill, complicit silences, jokes that are not funny and laws that erase us. The International Day against LGTBIQ+phobia was born to remind us that loving, being and living outside the norm should not be a reason for fear.
And why that day? Because on May 17, 1990, the World Health Organization decided to remove homosexuality from the list of mental illnesses. Sounds strong, doesn’t it? It has only been 35 years since we stopped being “diagnosable.” But be careful, because although the role changes, prejudices are still alive.
From homophobia to the rainbow: a fight with nuances
We call LGTBIQ+phobia all forms of hatred, rejection or discrimination towards lesbian, gay, trans, bisexual, intersex, queer and other dissident identities. But that does not mean that all violence is the same nor that all people in the group experience the same thing.
For example, being a white cis gay man in a big city is not the same as being a racialized trans woman in a rural environment. intersectionality matters, a lot. Because hate does not come in a single format: it can be physical, verbal, institutional, digital… even family. And sometimes, it comes disguised as concern or supposed “debate.”
What is not named does not exist
One of the great challenges is that there are still people who believe that this type of discrimination “no longer happens.” That “now you are everywhere”, “you have rights”, “you get married”. That we have arrived. But the reality is that, as you read this, there are young people who are being kicked out of their homes for coming out. There are trans people who are denied decent medical care. There are older queer people who are invisible and alone.
What does “having rights” really mean if fear does not go away?
What value does a law have if no one is responsible for enforcing it?
Visibility, yes. But at what price?
Coming out is a brave decision, but it shouldn’t be an obligation. Visibility is sometimes confused with a mandate for exposure. And not everyone has the same support networks, nor the same possibilities to resist. Pride is an achievement, not a demand.
It is also important to talk about pinkwashing: when brands, institutions or governments jump on the diversity bandwagon only when it suits them, but do not apply real inclusion policies. It is not enough to paint a rainbow logo if there continues to be discrimination or harassment within the company. Change is demonstrated with facts, not marketing.
How can we act?
If you are reading this and you are part of the LGTBIQ+ community, breathe. You are not alone. Not everything is resolved, but we are not where we were either. And that is also a struggle. If you are not directly part of the collective, there is also a lot you can do.
Here are some concrete ideas:
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Listen without judging. Sometimes you don’t need to understand everything, just respect.
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Intervene when you witness discrimination. Silence reinforces the aggressor.
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Support LGTBIQ+ projects, spaces or media. Like Rainbow 😉
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Check your prejudices. We all have them, the important thing is not to cling to them.
And above all, believe those who tell you their experience, even if it makes you uncomfortable, even if you don’t fully understand it.
A reality with shadows
Now, not everything is so clear. Some people criticize the fact that there is so much talk about “phobias” and not about structural hatred. Or that May 17 remains symbolic acts without real policies behind it. There are those who fear that these commemorations will end up reduced to calendar dates, with no lasting impact. Does it make sense to continue celebrating if rights remain unfulfilled in many parts of the world? Are we doing activism or just managing collective guilt? Open questions, complex answers.
The fight continues… and is transformed
May 17 is not just a date. It is a reminder of everything that still hurts and of everything we have already achieved. It is a tribute to those who did not make it this far. It is an act of collective resistance. Because even if laws change, mentalities take time. Because although some things get better, others get worse. And because being LGTBIQ+ continues to be, in many places in the world, a radical act.
But it is also a celebration of existence. An opportunity to meet, to share, to cry together if necessary, and to dance afterwards. Because if something has always characterized the collective, it is its ability to transform pain into beauty, into art, into community.
So let’s celebrate, yes. But without forgetting that pride is not for sale, that dignity is not negotiated and that the fight continues, even if the forms change.
