Last year, I experienced my first real lesbian breakup and learned very quickly that everything they say about first breakups is true. But at the same time, all I could think of was how grateful I am that I was experiencing it in 2025, not 1925, or 1975, or even 2000.
Because though my heart was broken and all felt lost for a brief moment, I was given so much opportunity to heal. I could publicly talk about it with my friends without fear of public shame. I was able to grieve openly without fear of being shunned by my family. I never once had to suffer in silence for fear of legal repercussions or for my personal safety.
I would not have been able to feel all of that – the pain, and the love – without the queer people who came before me. People who marched in the street and fought for laws at a time when it was significantly less safe than it is for me now.
Within the community, we talk about respecting our queer elders. And as much as I believe in that, it can be hard to conceptualize when there are so few openly queer people in my life who are even 10 years older than me, let alone 40 or 50 years older. It’s easy to justify this by saying there were fewer queer people in past generations. But we have to remember that even now, so many older queer people are living in silence, or worse, still in the closet out of fear. And don’t forget that queer people have a lower life expectancy than straight, cisgender people.
I hope to one day be the kind of queer adult that young queers look up to. I hope I have a cool haircut, and an apartment that’s decorated with curated art by queer local artists. And I’ll host wine nights and book clubs and dinner parties with the gay people who made me who I am. But I also hope to never forget to keep fighting.
This year, I can’t wait to march at the annual Dyke March, which literally gathers at the corner of my street (meant to be, I guess). I’ll kiss my friends and cheer with strangers and proudly hold my girlfriend’s hand because I am so lucky that I get to. But I will never forget how much work it took to get us here, or how many we lost along the way.
So, to the older queer and trans people who have fought and are still fighting, I say thank you. Thank you for the love. Thank you for the friendships. Thank you for the heartbreaks. I’m so proud that I get to experience all of it.
Callan Forrester