After months of blistering sunshine and hardly a drop of rain, it seemed like three months of water fell from the sky all in the one morning.

The morning of Southampton Pride.

I had promised myself that I would go because Pride is more important now than it has been for a long time. And, whilst all promises are important, the ones you make to yourself are the most important.

And that morning, a hookup started messaging. A very horny hookup. A very tempting hookup.

I wasn’t supposed to be seeing him until tomorrow but he is sooooo keen … but somethings are more important than sex.

I had to keep him interested, while keeping the promise to myself.

It was very difficult … the rain and his keenness were intense.

But I went.

And I was very proud of my community – so many people turned out in so many of their brightest clothes to celebrate and remind the world and each other to be proud of who they are.

In some ways, Pride is about sex – despite all its efforts at being “family friendly”. Men having sex with men was illegal only a few years before I was born. Sex. Pride isn’t merely about respectable gay people being accepted; it’s about the freedom to be sexual, gendered, unconventional, and oneself.

In my lifetime, the age of consent was equalised. The right to form legal unions with people of the same sex was granted. The right to work protections was granted.

Granted.

What was granted may be removed via the same mechanism.

I don’t take my rights and freedoms for granted.

And neither should anybody else.