Every year, I have the honor of riding atop the Pride Center float in the Stonewall Parade — perched high, waving, representing, and soaking in the beauty of a community that refuses to disappear. For me, it’s more than a parade. It’s a blessing. It’s the one day of the year when I feel the LGBTQ community moving as one heartbeat. Yes, you’ll always find a shady queen or two — that’s family — but for the most part, we embrace one another with an energy that feels sacred.

I’m fully aware that each demographic within the LGBTQ umbrella has its own history, its own struggles, its own language of survival. But for decades I’ve said the same thing: same boat, different compartments. The straight world lumps us together whether we like it or not. And the truth is, unity has always been our greatest power.

As a multiracial transgender woman of color, I feel blessed to be connected to the Wilton Manors community — a place I often call our “rainbow bubble.” In a world that has grown increasingly hostile toward LGBTQ people, we have carved out a thriving space filled with events, organizations, and chosen family. And as a trans woman, I am deeply grateful for the LGBQ folks who have stood by us, advocated for us, and understood that our liberation is intertwined.

But I’d be lying if I said I don’t sometimes feel a shift in the air. There are moments when I’m out and about and I catch an energy — a look, a tone — that says, You don’t belong here. It’s subtle, but it’s real. And it has grown louder since the transgender community became a political target. I don’t understand that kind of distancing. Maybe it’s because I’m an empath. Maybe it’s because I remember exactly where I came from. Before I transitioned, I lived as a gay man in this world — and I, too, faced discrimination. I didn’t get my rights and suddenly decide, “Well, I’m good now, forget everyone else.” That’s not who I am.

I always keep in mind the words of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.: “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.”

I’ve had gay men tell me they “just can’t understand the whole transgender thing,” and I gently remind them that straight people once said the exact same thing about them. We, of all people, should know better than to repeat the patterns that once oppressed us.

And let’s not forget — acceptance is relative. In some parts of the world, like Iran, transgender people are more accepted than gay people. The hierarchy shifts depending on the soil beneath your feet. Which is why internal division within our community is not only heartbreaking — it’s dangerous.

History shows us that every marginalized group that has ever gained rights, visibility, or dignity did so by unifying. By standing shoulder to shoulder. By refusing to let the world divide them.

So as this year’s Stonewall Parade and Festival approaches, I find myself reflecting on that magical day — the joy, the solidarity, the shared purpose. There is a divine energy that flows through us when we show up for one another. An energy that reminds us who we are and what we’re capable of.

Imagine if we carried that energy all year long.

Imagine if we held onto that unity not just in June, but in July, October, and February. Imagine if we remembered that our strength has always come from our togetherness.

Happy Pride, everyone. May the spirit of Stonewall — the courage, the love, the unity — stay with us long after the parade ends.

Rajee Narinesingh (Rajindra Narinesingh)

President, TransSocial / Mayfaire Medical Board of Directors | Transgender Activist, Actress, Spiritualist, Author, Show Host, & Reality TV Personality