PRIDE, CROP TOPS & SHOUTING BACK

WEEK 20/2025

Two guys, a fatbike, and three words I can’t forget:

“You dirty fags.”

That’s how my cute date ended a couple of weeks ago. We weren’t even holding hands. Just walking. Smiling. Existing. I don’t think I’ve ever turned around so quickly in my life.

Before I could shout back that yes, I am a raging homosexual—but I shower regularly, so technically not dirty—they had already vroom-vroomed away on their tiny electric bike. Sad, really. Can’t afford a car, but somehow you can afford to hurl slurs at strangers enjoying a nice evening.It was the first time I’ve ever been shouted at so openly just for being gay. And I’ll be honest: I didn’t sleep well that night.

Not because of what they said exactly—but because of what might come next. This time it was just words. Next time… what? A slap? A knife? I don’t know.

That’s why, this year, I’m going to Utrecht Pride. And I’ll be wearing the sleaziest, gayest crop top I could find. Because this time, I won’t let shame or fear shrink me. I’ve never been one to celebrate Pride. I used to think it was a bit much—too loud, too sparkly, too in-your-face.

But I get it now.

Pride isn’t just a party. It’s protest. It’s protection. It’s presence. It’s power. It’s a big, rainbow middle finger to people who want us to be invisible.

We NEED Pride Month.

More than ever. Just open a newspaper and you’ll find another LGBTQ+ right under attack. It’s like we’re going backwards—fast. Even here, in the Netherlands, once known as the most tolerant country in the world, where Amsterdam was the gay capital. Now? Not so much.

Also—let me switch gears for a moment.

We’ve been posting on the socials about something else too: HIV and AIDS. I finally watched; 'It’s a Sin’ — yes, I know, very late to the party, and it really made me think: We all know what HIV meant in the 1980s. But what does it mean today?

I don’t know enough. So I’m doing my homework—and I want your help. Whether you’re living with HIV, know someone who is, or just want to share your thoughts, I want to hear your story.

Just go to the website and answer a few quick questions. It’s all anonymous. I don’t care who you are, where you’re from, or what you do—as long as you love me.

(Okay, Backstreet Boys moment. Had to.)

So here’s where I’ll leave you:

If you’re scared, if you’re tired, if you’ve ever wanted to disappear—don’t. Throw on your glitter, your rainbow, your crop top, your whatever. Come to Pride. Take up space. Be loud. Be tender. Be proud.

I’ll be there. Crop top and all.

And I’ll be wearing it… for those boys on the bike.

See you there.

A new column by The Gay Bradshaw will be live next Sunday at 20:00h, exclusively on tobecroft.com/tgb