Less Beer, More Cheer: Making Pride Spaces Safer for Sober Queers

Happy Pride Month! It’s one of my favorite times of year and as a queer sober person who works in the recovery space, this is also a great opportunity to explore the intersections of queerness, addiction, normative alcohol culture and sobriety. It’s interesing to examine how sober queer folks navigate alcohol-centric Pride events, how our experiences have shifted and what we would love to see in Pride celebrations that are more inclusive of us.

To understand where we are, we need to know where we’ve been. Historically, gay bars have served as safe spaces and havens for those within the 2SLGBTQ+ community, a temporary reprieve from closeted living or homophobic/transphobic discrimination and abuse. Queer bars are welcoming, allowing those within them to fully embrace and express themselves without fear of consequence. Given the nature of bars and bar culture, alcohol is almost inextricably linked and embedded into queer culture, ironically tied both to a sense of safety and identity. The Stonewall Inn, a monumental site of historic importance for the queer community, ground zero for revolutionary resistance, which arguably birthed what we now know as our modern day Pride celebrations, is a bar.

Bars have and continue to be sites of resistance, safety, community and in many ways, a space that solidifies our queer identities. While these are positive aspects for the queer community, having our sense of selves, community and identity intertwined with alcohol culture comes with many drawbacks. Bars become a problematic site for queers when you triangulate the trauma that young queer folks often live with, the mental health issues that go along with that trauma, poor coping skills and the fact that alcohol is an addictive substance that can cause significant personal and societal harm.

THE STONEWALL INN. PHOTO CREDIT: BEN HIDER, GETTY IMAGES.

“The queer bar scene is a really big deal. I used to LOVE to be out and about, meeting people over drinks and cigarettes. Now that I'm sober, I feel very differently about these spaces.

Meet Kelly. She identifies as queer, has been sober since April 2019 and has enjoyed Pride celebrations in a variety of cities including Raleigh, Boston, NYC, New Haven and Greensboro.

“I find that I have a hard time being comfortable in them because there is often a lot of overindulgence happening, but queer bars are sometimes one of the only places where I can be out and fully feel comfortable being myself. It's been hard. Especially when dating.”

According to the Pew Research Center, LGBT Americans were surveyed and based on the results, the median age that they came out to a friend or family member was 20 years old. This age (and developmental stage) very much overlaps and coincides with the age in which legal alcohol consumption takes place, further enmeshing the relationship between identity and alcohol.

Because of normative alcohol culture, legal drinking age serves as a rite of passage into our collective relationship with drinking; it’s expected and encouraged, often celebrated with family members, as though the capacity to legally consume an addictive, neurotoxic substance is an achievement and something we should strive for. All of this is also true for queer folks and the relationship to alcohol is further complicated by the social significance and symbolic importance of gay bars, which also serve as a rite of passage, an entry point into our sense of selves and queer identities.

Despite mountains of research and evidence, it’s still a little known fact that those within the 2SLGBTQ+ community are at a much greater risk of developing addiction and substance use issues; I wrote extensively on this here. There are many reasons for this including the fact that 2SLGBTQ+ folks sustain trauma earlier and more frequently throughout their lives. These traumas exist on a spectrum and can range from microaggressions like having your gender or sexuality assumed incorrectly, or experiencing rejection by your family of origin or religious community. This can also look like not having the same legal rights as cisgender, straight folks to facing discrimination when it comes to housing to more extreme experiences like homo/transphobic slurs and violence.

While we have made significant progress when it comes to the rights of the 2SLGBTQ+ community (with most progress being made within urban centers globally), the discrimination and oppression outlined above serve as very real examples of stressors in the lives and lived experiences of queer folks. Kari, a lesbian who has been sober for 9+ years, shares that she leaned on alcohol to cope with living in a deeply homophobic world, “I lived with a lot of shame about who I was and drinking helped me to cover that shame. As I got sober, I realized that being my authentic self is truly a reason to celebrate and Pride events allow me to celebrate with others doing the same. Being sober, what I used to feel as shame is now excitement of who I am. Without sobriety, I would not be the person I am today - someone free to be authentically me without apology for something I thought was so shameful.”

In addition to more trauma, those who identify within the 2SLGBTQ+ community also experience higher rates of mental health issues, specifically anxiety, depression and suicidal ideation. The mental and emotional distress caused by discrimination, precarious housing and employment, rejection, stigma and so forth can easily explain why queer folks struggle with mental health issues at higher rates and can also explain why queer folks lean on substances for coping and relief. It should be of no surprise that 20-30% of the queer community deal with substance use and addiction issues compared to 9% of cisgender, straight folks. To make matters worse, queer folks dealing with addiction often have a hard time finding healing and recovery support that speaks to our unique needs.

Alcohol companies have very much capitalized off of our suffering and the substance use struggles experienced within the 2SLGBTQ+ community. Taryn, a queer woman who has been sober for 2.5 years feels conflicted about Pride and alcohol.

“There are rarely events that are not sponsored by an alcohol brand or a local bar/club. It often feels like the entire point of Pride is based around being happy with who we are, but also needing to amplify it in a way that is really tied up with LGBTQ spaces involving substance use.”

I couldn’t agree more. Most Pride celebrations have multiple alcohol company sponsorships. Where I live in Toronto, Canada, Pride Toronto is back in the swing of things this year. In addition to a full month of programming, Pride Toronto has increased their alcohol sponsors to eight this year (up from six in 2021) as well as added a new official sponsor of the pride & remembrance run, Eastbound Brewing Co. In addition to the new beer sponsor, the run, which has historically been a family-friendly morning event, has been moved and is now an evening event enabling more drinking. Aside from the questionable practice of an athletic event being sponsored by an alcohol brand, this is another example of an addictive substance being peddled in a seemingly harmless way to a community already at greater risk of addiction.

What is really key to remember here is alcohol companies are not in queer spaces because they love and celebrate us. Alcohol brands are at Pride because of capitalism and its drive to make as much money as possible regardless of our suffering.

Given the prevalence of both normative alcohol culture and homo/transphobia, it’s a powerful, beautiful miracle when queer folks find sobriety. Becoming sober as a queer person presents a variety of challenges especially given how interconnected substances are within the queer community. Since becoming sober myself almost six years ago, I have been increasingly more attuned to the presence of alcohol not only at Pride events (which I’ve celebrated in Toronto, Montreal and NYC) but more broadly in queer spaces. Alcohol is so deeply baked into queer culture that I find myself regularly wondering how we can preserve the celebratory, community-oriented elements of queer spaces while also making them more mindful of sober queers.

Instead of welcoming more alcohol into Pride celebrations, imagine what could be possible if we instead focused on creating welcoming, inclusive events for all. Bryen, who identifies as bi/pansexual and has been sober for 2.5 years, has celebrated Pride in Toronto and Tokyo and noted how things were integrated for non-drinkers.

“I’d love to see dedicated sober spaces for ALL events; actual sections at all the big events that have dedicated alcohol-free zones. Before I was sober, while in Toronto, I noticed sober spaces, and they didn’t look inviting, nor were they well populated. They also looked like spaces for people not of drinking age. The space was separated from the rest of the events. I wish there were more queer spaces where people can meet each other without going to a bar.”

Taryn adds to this by saying “I still like to dance, go to drag shows, be 100% present and not put my sobriety at risk. I still want to be able to go somewhere laidback, chill, and sexy. Sobriety doesn't equal boring. It means I'm 100% myself and I want to meet you, not your intoxicated side.”

John, a gay man who has been sober for 41 years and who has enjoyed Pride festivities in Vancouver, Seattle, New York, San Francisco, LA, Toronto, Hong Kong, Paris and Barcelona, echoes this by offering the idea of more non-drinking, sober-centric events.

“How about a sober dance or sober drag show? Creating Pride events where people are experiencing the show, without a cocktail, without enhancements, just for fun.”

What’s clear is that when it comes to the inclusion of sober queers at Pride events, there is much work to be done and no shortage of ideas being generated. In addition, the need to untangle ourselves from Big Alcohol is obvious and vital. It seems evident that there is a desire and appetite for things to be done differently. Victoria, a lesbian who is 5 years sober, offers a powerful insight: “I’d like for more people to know and see you can still get your Pride on without feeling forced to drink. The whole point of Pride is being proud of who YOU ARE and for me that includes being an alcoholic. I am proud to be a gay woman in recovery. The biggest thing I’ve noticed since getting sober is that I get to be present for things I want to be doing without having to worry about alcohol.”

Casey, who has been sober for two and half years, lives and celebrates Pride in San Diego and shared that his local festivities include an area called Recovery Village.

“It is a space within Pride where alcohol and drugs aren’t allowed and there are resources available for those choosing a lifestyle free of those things. I would love to see something like this as part of every Pride event. Maybe some mocktail and non-alcoholic beverage options as well. Over time, it would be cool to see Pride events that don’t revolve around drinking or drugs at all.”

We want big events to be inviting, fun sober spaces that aren’t segregated and cut off from the rest of the festivities, for bars to offer more alcohol-free drink options, and for there to be welcoming and social events both within and outside bar spaces that don’t centre booze. I believe this is possible and this possibility excites me. We deserve this and so much more. We deserve queer spaces that are truly safe and inclusive for all.

When I asked the community if there was anything else they wanted to share on the topic, Kelly summed it up perfectly: “Yes, being sober is the best decision I ever made in my life!” I couldn’t agree more. Happy Pride, y’all!

About the Author

Amy C. Willis (she/her) is a Sobriety & Mindset Coach who supports women and queer folks in reclaiming their power and freedom through sobriety. Amy comes to this work after struggling with alcohol addiction for 15+ years and losing her dad to his alcohol addiction; Amy has been sober for 5.5+ years and identifies as queer. Amy is a dual-certificated coach, writer, speaker, certified meditation teacher and a certified EFT (Emotional Freedom Techniques)/tapping practitioner. Amy works with clients globally both in 1-on-1 and group coaching programs and calls Toronto, Canada home.