Pride should remain a movement before it is a festival. It should be about community before commerce, accessibility before exclusivity, and unity before profit.

There was a time when Pride meant something very different to me. It was about visibility, equality, remembrance, protest, and celebrating how far the LGBTQ+ community had come while recognising how much work was still left to do. It was about standing together in solidarity, regardless of age, background, or income.

Most importantly, it was about ensuring that everyone could take part.

Today, I can't help but feel that Pride, as I knew it, is no longer the same. Across the UK, more and more Pride events are becoming large commercial festivals rather than community-led celebrations. What were once open public events are increasingly charging admission to enter spaces that were traditionally free and accessible. For many people, especially those facing financial hardship, this creates a barrier to taking part in what is supposed to be a celebration of inclusion.

We are also seeing some of the country's best-known Pride events change dramatically. In places such as Manchester, the format has evolved over the years, with increasing commercialisation and changes to public access that have sparked debate within the LGBTQ+ community. Many people now question whether these events still reflect the original spirit of Pride or whether they have become entertainment festivals first and community events second.

Pride was born from protest. It grew from people who refused to accept discrimination, inequality, and injustice. Those early marches weren't about VIP tickets, expensive wristbands, exclusive areas, or corporate branding. They were about ordinary people standing together and demanding to be seen, heard, and treated equally.

There is, of course, nothing wrong with family-friendly activities. Pride should absolutely be welcoming to families, children, friends, and allies. Inclusion is one of Pride's greatest strengths. But being family-friendly should not come at the expense of remembering why Pride exists in the first place. The history, the activism, and the voices of those who fought for the freedoms we enjoy today must never become secondary to entertainment.

I also appreciate that organising a Pride event is expensive. Security, policing, insurance, stages, performers, accessibility measures, medical cover, and venue costs have all risen significantly in recent years. Organisers face genuine financial pressures, and many work incredibly hard as volunteers to make these events happen. However, I believe there should always be ways for people to experience Pride without cost wherever possible. If Pride becomes something only those who can afford a ticket can enjoy, then it risks excluding some of the very people it was created to support.

Pride should remain a movement before it is a festival. It should be about community before commerce, accessibility before exclusivity, and unity before profit. It should remind us of those who marched when it wasn't safe, those who lost their jobs for being themselves, those who suffered violence and discrimination, and those who never lived to see the rights many of us now take for granted.

Perhaps it's time to ask ourselves an important question: have we preserved the true meaning of Pride, or have we slowly allowed it to become something entirely different?

This isn't about criticising the countless volunteers and organisers who dedicate their time to making Pride happen. It is about encouraging an honest conversation about where Pride is heading. As our celebrations continue to grow, let's ensure we don't lose sight of the principles that gave birth to Pride in the first place.

Pride should always be a place where everyone feels welcome—not because they can afford a ticket, but because they belong.

Father Paris Haines