This is not just a celebration.
It is a reckoning wrapped in light. A soft, radiant call to unlearn judgment and remember how to love.

Each June, the world paints itself in rainbows—but Pride is more than color. It is courage worn in public. It is breath held in bathrooms, and names whispered behind closed doors because safety is not promised.

... Safety, in truth, is a luxury still denied to too many. LGBTQIA+ people are five times more likely to be violently attacked than others in this country. The rate of serious violence—including sexual assault, armed attacks, and aggravated assault is nearly seven times higher. When a weapon is involved, the risk climbs ninefold.

These are not outliers. These are lives under siege. Transgender individuals face the highest rates, nearly 94 victimizations per 1,000 people. Among them, people of color bear the heaviest burden, facing layers of systemic neglect and targeted harm.

Hate crimes against LGBTQIA+ people have surged in recent years, up more than 20% in just the last year alone. And for the young—who should be dreaming, not surviving—the pain is staggering. Over 40% of LGBTQIA+ youth have seriously considered suicide in the past year. Among transgender and nonbinary youth, the number nears 50%. Nearly 1 in 5 have tried to end their lives. Not because they are broken, but because the world too often is.

Even access to healing is gated: More than half of LGBTQIA+ youth who sought mental health care couldn’t get it. They were met not with help, but with silence. Not with safety, but with shame.

And in the shadows of that silence, thousands of LGBTQIA+ youth sleep on concrete instead of beds. Though they make up just 10% of the youth population, they account for nearly 40% of youth homelessness. One in four were cast out by their families simply for being who they are.

This is not just data. This is humanity, pleading to be met with dignity.

This month, I do not speak for them. I stand beside them. In awe. In grief. In unwavering solidarity.

Pride is not loud because it wants attention. It is loud because silence has been deadly. It is not indulgent. It is essential.

So if you’ve ever turned your face away, look again. If you’ve ever stood on the edges, step closer. Not to tolerate. But to cherish. Not to debate someone’s right to exist—but to ensure they never have to question it again.

Because love—real love—does not flinch in the face of difference. It leans in. It opens the door wider. It says: “You are not other. You are ours.”

This is what rising together means. Not just lifting voices, but protecting lives. Not just waving flags, but building a world where no one is asked to shrink to survive.

This month, may we all be brave enough to love louder. To listen deeper. To choose grace over fear. And to never again let silence have the final word.

To every person who has been made to feel unworthy for simply being:
you are not broken—you are brilliant.
you are not alone—you are luminous.
you are not too much—you are enough, exactly as you are.Let the world see your light. Let it be moved by your truth.

And to the world I say: it is time. Time to not just tolerate, but to celebrate. Time to protect. To embrace. To rise, not above each other—but beside one another, in full, fearless love.

Lots of love 💕
— Thîrteen