Showing Up Matters: Reflections on Pride, Allyship, and Community

Why Pride Matters — Even If You’re Not LGBTQ+

Pride Month, for me, is about raising awareness of LGBTQ+ people — both past and present. It’s a time to recognise progress, celebrate those who’ve driven change, and see people as they want to be seen. Walking past a local LGBTQ+ coffee shop in Cardiff, I’ve often found myself admiring the flags — many of which I didn’t recognise. I asked what they meant, and that small moment of learning helped remind me how rich and diverse the community really is.

Pride can be a moment to say, simply and sincerely: I see you.

I first became aware of Pride in a deeper way when visiting Manchester University. We stumbled into the middle of Pride celebrations on Canal Street — a whirlwind of joy, connection, and community. I didn’t fully understand what I was witnessing then, but I could feel it. Later, during university, some of my friends came out. I joined them on nights out, saw how relaxed and happy they felt in spaces where they could just be. That meant something.

And in hindsight, that was the beginning of understanding what allyship is.

What Allyship Really Means

For me, allyship is about showing up, respecting space, and being ready to listen. It’s not about making yourself the centre of attention. It’s about understanding that sometimes the best support is quiet, consistent presence.

I’ve worn LGBTQ+ pins at conferences — once in Salt Lake City, where I initially worried about the reception. But more people smiled and struck up conversations than looked twice. The warmth surprised me, in the best way.

Allyship doesn’t always mean leading change — sometimes it means standing beside someone who is. At a previous company, a new starter mentioned we didn’t have a #lgbtq channel in Slack. I asked if they wanted help setting one up, and we did it together. It was a small thing, but it mattered. Helping someone take their first step can be more powerful than taking it for them.

One of the biggest misconceptions about allyship is that it’s performative — that it’s about you. I don’t want the spotlight. I want others to have it. But I’ve also learned that not everyone wants to be singled out or platformed. Like everything else, allyship starts with consent.

Personal Reflections

One of the most powerful parts of growing older has been watching childhood friends come out, marry, and raise families of their own. Seeing the love and acceptance they receive now — that’s hope in action. It’s not about me, but I get to witness it.

But I’ve made mistakes too. At a conference, I saw a former colleague wearing a different name badge than I remembered. I assumed it was someone else’s badge. They calmly explained that they’d changed their name. I didn’t realise it at the time, but I’d used their dead name. The next day, I apologised, explained I hadn’t meant to hurt them, and told them how happy I was for them. I still think that apology was more for me than for them — but learning from mistakes is part of allyship too.

I’ve learned to listen more than I talk. Not just during Pride, but always. Growing up in a culture shaped by invasive journalism and casual intrusiveness, it was easy to feel entitled to people’s stories. But you realise — you don’t need to know everything. Curiosity can be kind, but it can also be invasive. Sometimes, the best thing you can do is respect boundaries.

Showing Up in Tech and the Workplace

Tech spaces like Edera — and the wider cloud-native community — are full of LGBTQ+ folks leading the way. So it matters how we build our spaces.

At work, small things go a long way: adding pronouns to your Slack profile, offering support instead of assuming leadership, asking before acting. Inclusion isn’t just about having good intentions — it’s about making space and sharing power.

During the 2020 Black Lives Matter protests, I spent two weeks listening before updating our community’s messaging. I reached out to people within our group and asked how we could show up for them. Some thought we were too slow. But in hindsight, I believe doing it right mattered more than doing it fast.

Inclusion done well? For me, it was a moment of role reversal. I once met someone from the LGBTQ+ community who welcomed me into the Cloud Native space, gave me a seat at their table, and made me feel seen. I try to pay that feeling forward now.

But inertia is a barrier. Some businesses fear disrupting what works. But if what “works” excludes people from being themselves, then it doesn’t really work at all. Edera — a company founded by three women, some of whom are part of the LGBTQ+ community — is building something better. And I’m proud to be part of it.

Challenging Bias — Quietly and Loudly

Not every moment of allyship is comfortable. Once, after a night out, someone harassed my brother with homophobic slurs. I didn’t say “he’s not gay.” I said, “What does it matter to you?” I got punched in the face, split my head open, and needed stitches. That moment stuck with me.

Other times, showing up is quieter. Wearing a pin, correcting someone gently, or removing old habits — like the derogatory words I used in childhood without understanding their weight. We grow. We unlearn.

If you’re worried about saying the wrong thing, start with consent. Ask why you want to know. Would you be okay sharing your answer if someone asked you or a close friend or family member the same question? If not, maybe that question doesn’t need asking.

And tech conferences? They should actively protect and promote inclusion. The city, venue, code of conduct — it all matters. Inclusion doesn’t just happen. We design for it.

Celebrating Progress, Acknowledging What’s Next

I’ve seen so much that gives me hope — same-sex families, kids growing up with open hearts, pioneers in open source and LGBTQ+ leaders in executive roles. And Edera’s part of that story too.

But progress isn’t fixed. The LGBTQ+ community is changing, and allyship must evolve too. Be ready to get things wrong — but also ready to listen, learn, and do better.

A friend of mine uses the word “fascinating” when they see something new or different. I love that. If you don’t know what to say this Pride Month, go buy a drink at a LGBTQ+ café. Visit a bookshop. Pay something forward. Ask — gently — if you can learn more. Or just show up. Add your face to the crowd.

That’s allyship too.