Pride Month 2025: How To Be A True LGBTQIA+ Ally Beyond Social Media
It’s easy to wear a rainbow pin in June. To like a post. To say “Love is love” on Instagram. But ask any queer person, and they’ll tell you, the real work of allyship doesn’t happen during Pride Month.
It occurs in living rooms, on WhatsApp groups, during office meetings, and at wedding invitations. It’s not about slogans. It’s about showing up everyday.
Being queer in India still isn’t easy. In a society where casual mockery is normalised, where legal recognition is slow and social acceptance slower, allies can be lifelines or bystanders. And while no one is asking for perfection, queer folks are asking for presence.
We asked members of the LGBTQIA+ community across cities, creators, professionals, and advocates, what actually helps. What makes them feel safe, seen, and supported? Their answers were clear. All said that the little things mattered. The daily acts. The moments when you choose to listen, speak up, and stop making it about you.
Here’s how to start being a supportive ally to that friend or relative from the community.
Call out the uncle
“As someone who exists proudly in their queerness,” says Shantanu Dhope, a digital creator based in Mumbai, “here’s what I want allies to know: If your relative makes a homophobic joke at dinner, call it out. It matters more when the resistance comes from someone inside their circle. Silence can feel like agreement.”
This isn’t just about personal discomfort; it’s about social dynamics. According to a 2023 report by the Pew Research Centre, nearly four in ten Indians still believe homosexuality should not be accepted. In such a context, even casual mockery reinforces unsafe spaces.
Allyship means disrupting this, not dramatically, not always confrontationally, but clearly. “That’s not okay” is sometimes enough. It signals that you’re not complicit.
Don’t ask weird, invasive questions
No one wants to hear, “But who’s the man in the relationship?” Or worse, “But how do you have sex?”
“It’s not curiosity, it’s disrespect,” says Shantanu. “If you wouldn’t ask a straight couple that, don’t ask us.”
Navv, 29, a professional from Gurgaon, lays it bare: “Don’t ask things like ‘Tumko ladki dekh ke feeling aati hai ya nahi’ or ‘Ladke ladke ek saath kaise karte hain?’ These are not questions, they’re violations.”
What can you ask instead? How someone identifies. What makes them feel safe? How do they navigate coming out? Whether they’ve found community. These are questions that come from care, not curiosity. More importantly, ask yourself: Is this something you’d ask a cisgender heterosexual person?
The queer community is already forced to explain and justify themselves in countless ways, to families, doctors, landlords, even employers. Intrusive questioning adds to that emotional toll. And often, it’s not genuine interest, it’s voyeurism masked as dialogue.
Use our pronouns
One of the most subtle yet powerful ways to affirm someone’s identity? Respect their pronouns.
“The way you use someone's name or pronouns can make or break how safe they feel around you,” shares The Cologne Doll, a trans-femme performer and activist. “This isn’t a woke trend, this is basic dignity. Get it right. Practice it. Correct others.”
In professional and social spaces alike, pronoun visibility, in email signatures, introductions, and Zoom bios, has become a small but significant act of allyship. It’s not performative when followed through with real respect.
“Don’t rely on us to educate you — do your homework.”
Allyship isn’t about burdening queer folks with the task of teaching you. “Google is free. Books exist. Watch queer-led shows, follow creators, buy from queer-owned businesses,” Shantanu says.
Think of it this way: if someone close to you was going through something, wouldn’t you take the time to understand it without making them relive their trauma to explain it to you?
Pride isn’t just parties and parades. It’s also about doing the unglamorous work of unlearning bias, challenging assumptions, and listening.
Invite our partners
“Inviting our partners to your wedding might seem small,” says The Cologne Doll, “but to us, it’s huge. It says your love is valid. You belong.”
It’s these everyday moments where queer folks either feel included, or pointedly invisible. Real allyship doesn’t just “tolerate” queer people. It includes them — proactively, naturally, and without making a fuss.
In a 2024 survey by Out and Equal, 64% of LGBTQIA+ individuals in India said they often feel excluded from major family or community events. Changing that statistic starts at your own table.
Remember, we too want to survive
It’s easy to assume that things are getting better. But that’s not true for everyone. “Lots of people are still struggling to earn food because their families disowned them,” Navv shares. “They’ve been dishonoured, thrown out of their homes, left with nothing.”
According to a 2023 Human Rights Watch report, homelessness among queer youth in India, especially trans individuals, is alarmingly high. Job discrimination, lack of legal support, and family rejection create a brutal cycle.
So if you’re wondering how to help, donate to queer shelters. Hire queer talent. Support mental health organisations. Signal-boost queer fundraisers. Your privilege can be someone’s lifeline.
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