An Open Letter to the Haters of the SSLGBTQ+ Community

Pearl-clutchers, keyboard warriors, false prophets, people pissing on our parades, and those who want a straight parade —this one's for you.

Image: Ajay Thapa

The season of love is in full swing and there’s joy in the air as my city (Toronto) and the queer village in which I live transforms, readies and steadies to host the largest Pride festival in North America. Last night Church Street was packed, lots of excited tourists already enjoying a fine time. It’s beautiful to see.

But where there’s love, there’s hate, and right now hate against us is in abundance; queers are under attack in a way we haven’t seen in decades.

And I am so tired of being hated.

To those who rage against us, fear us, misunderstand us, or want us gone:

Let’s not pretend your contempt is fresh. You’re just the latest in a long boring line of finger-waggers, stone-throwers, and scripture-slingers who’ve spent lifetimes trying to erase people like us. But here we are—unbothered, uncloseted, and utterly unafraid.

You hate Pride Parades. It’s “too much.” It’s “inappropriate.” You say we’re “shoving it in your face.” Well, we’ve been shoved into closets, conversion therapy, and mass graves. So yes, now we celebrate in our streets. Loud, defiant, and dressed like the freedom we had to fight for. You don’t get to shame the parade without acknowledging why it exists: you haters made and still make it necessary.

To those shouting for a “straight parade”: Boy you jokers drive me nuts. Your entire existence is a parade. Your parades are built into every song, every movie, every law, every wedding aisle. You don’t get a straight parade because you’ve never needed one. You’ve never been arrested for who you love, denied housing, fired, brutalized, or legislated into invisibility because of your sexuality or gender identity. Pride isn’t about superiority. It’s about survival. We march because we must.

You scream, “What about the children?” We ask the same. What about the queer kids who sit through sermons calling them an abomination, who live in a world that teaches them they are less-than? What about the trans kids denied health care and dignity? What about the ones whose parents would rather bury them than accept them? You think a drag queen reading The Very Hungry Caterpillar is dangerous—but your silence when queer youth die by suicide at shockingly high rates is the real indecency.

To the religious objectors: You quote a book of fairy tales ancient texts to justify modern cruelty. You call it love while preaching shame. But no God worth worshipping condones hate. Your (brown-skinned) Jesus broke bread with sex workers and outcasts—you break hearts and lives with smug condemnation. If you think heaven has room for bigotry but not for love, you’ve built your faith on sand. God didn’t create queer people so he had someone to sit around and hate.

To those who whisper or even scream “groomer” and “pedophile”: You are vile. The end. You accuse us of crimes without evidence to feed a culture of fear. It’s slander with a body count. You don’t care about protecting children—you care about protecting your prejudices. Your lies do not protect the innocent; they endanger the already marginalized.

To the super annoying polite moderate, the “I’m not homophobic, but—” crowd:
You’re perhaps the most exhausting of all. You’ll attend the wedding, but cringe at the kiss. You’ll support us in theory, but not when it’s messy, real, or visible. Your tolerance isn’t allyship—it’s performance. (You remind me of the sponsors who pulled out of Toronto Pride I wrote this open letter about here.) You want us quiet, palatable, and invisible. We’ve done that already. Never again.

Let’s set the record straight—pun intended: We’re not new. We are not a trend. We’ve existed across continents, centuries, and civilizations. Two-Spirit people walked this land long before colonizers brought homophobia with their Christian crosses. Queerness is natural, ancient, and beautifully human.

We are not asking for special rights. Give us equal ones. We want what you take for granted: safety, dignity, and the freedom to live without fear. That’s not radical. That’s justice.

And yet, despite all of this—we still welcome you. Yes, even you. Because queer people are wise people, and we know hate is not an identity—it’s a wound; wounds can heal. If you’re willing to unlearn, if you’re willing to listen instead of lash out, if you’re willing to sit with the discomfort of change, there is room for you. There always has been. You can grow. You can evolve. And if you do, you’ll find we are not your enemy—we are your liberation.

Here’s what you cannot silence: We are your teachers, your doctors, your family, your children. We are artists and activists, CEOs and servers. We serve, we vote, we build, we raise, we lead. You tried shame. We turned it into glitter. You tried violence. We turned it into movement. You tried to bury us, but you didn’t know we were seeds.

We are not asking for your permission anymore, because we never needed it.

With pride, grace, and every colour you can’t erase,

A Proud Member of the SSLGBTQ+ Community