Leeds Pride 2026
A large crowd wave their arms during a La Voix gig in Leeds gay village. Leeds skyline in the background.
Your intrepid podcaster went to Leeds Pride 2026 on Sunday.
It’s been years since I last attended this particular Pride event. However, for me, it broke new ground this year because I was part of the march, which was something I hadn’t done before. As a first-timer, I found the carnival atmosphere to be infectious and it was hard not to bob along to the vuvuzelas and the music.
As I marched along with my crowd, I found the focus of attention to be an interesting one. People were waving their flags and whistling on the side lines, and I asked myself what I had done to deserve this cheering and joyous reaction? I know I am a podcaster on LGBTQ+ matters, but I am not really the kind of guy to whom the spotlight comes naturally. I’m more of a behind-the-scenes hard worker by nature.
Yet, I reminded myself of two things: Pride marches are a peaceful protest; and the focus is not on one single individual, but all of us as a community. It is needed now more than ever as we come under attack from groups with nefarious aims. A drag queen on one of the stages reiterated this before she performed I Am What I Am as the sun streamed through the branches of the trees. Goosebumps.
This sentiment was also reflected in the sheer variety of people who attended in their multitudes - twinks, pups, furries, daddies and DILFs, leather guys, lesbians, drag queens, non-binary people, and everyone else in-between. It was good to see goths there too. I remember in my youth going to Le Phono in Leeds, the world’s first dedicated goth club, so it was good to see goths were still unalive and unwell, as it were. More to the point, the sheer number of trans flags was heart-warming to see.
Leeds Pride is a lot better organised now than way back in the day when I last attended the event. Now, the gay village is cordoned off with good security and the bars are all well-organised, each showcasing their particular niche with their mini stages and their own acts. There was even a contactless beer machine, dispensing lager and wine at the touch of a button. Way back in the day, I was turned away from a Leeds bar for being too old (I won’t say which one), but there was none of that here - you could take your plastic cup of booze anywhere and all ages and shapes and sizes jostled along together. Never knowingly passing a toilet without using it, the bathroom availability was excellent. I had expected long queues, but the organisation of the event meant that everyone kept moving, even if it was a squeeze at times with the sheer volume of people. And of course, La Voix slayed on the main stage.
What really struck me was the disconnect between Pride and the world of the media. All we ever hear about now are the bad things, division being created artificially to drive clicks and to sell copy, driven by binary algorithms. I didn’t see any billionaires or millionaires there in person, espousing their points of view. I didn’t see any representation of the far right, and the only religious sign I saw was pro-LGBTQ+. And you know why? Because they’re cowards. These people rarely show up in person because they like to stick to the shadows where it’s safe, hiding behind their keyboards and phones. Or in extreme cases, behind a weapon.
There is a reason for this. The LGBTQ+ community is stronger when we act together. En masse, we are amazing. When we get together in person, we get things done. Pride has its roots in the Stonewall riots, and since then, it has become an adaptable protest evolving with the needs of the times. Compare your local Pride event with the recent far right riots, and you will see that they are worlds apart. No looting or violence here, and the Police presence was benign and watchful rather than actively expecting trouble.
We truly are better together in person, and love will most definitely win.
