Hey friends. It’s Tristan.
If you’ve stepped outside in St. Pete lately, you can feel it. The humidity is rising, the rainbow crosswalks are getting a fresh coat of paint, and there’s that specific buzz in the air that only comes with June in Florida. St. Pete Pride 2026 is officially here, and while I’m always down for a good parade and a handful of glitter, I want to talk about something a little deeper this year.
As a trans-identified therapist and the founder of a trans-led practice, I spend a lot of time thinking about safety. Not just physical safety, but the kind of internal safety that comes from knowing your community has your back.
Lately, though, it feels like that safety is being nibbled at: not just from the outside, but from within. We’re seeing a lot of "divide and conquer" tactics in the air. People are being told that if they just look a certain way, act a certain way, or distance themselves from the "noisier" parts of the community, they’ll be safe.
Spoiler alert: It’s a trap.
This week, we’re kicking off a series on the theme of Coming Together vs. Separation. Today, we’re diving into why unity isn’t just a nice thing to put on a t-shirt: it’s quite literally how we survive.
The Trap of Respectability Politics
You might have heard the term "respectability politics" in a sociology class or on a very long Twitter thread, but in plain English, it’s the idea that if we just act "normal" enough, the people who hate us will stop.
It’s the "Good Gay" vs. "Bad Queer" narrative.
The "Good Gay" is the one who fits neatly into the suburban box. They’re gender-conforming, they don’t talk too much about politics, and they definitely don’t make anyone feel "uncomfortable." The "Bad Queers": according to this logic: are the ones who are "too much." The trans folks, the nonbinary folks, the polyamorous folks, the kink community, the neurodivergent folks who don't mask their traits, and anyone who doesn't fit a very narrow, polished image.
Here’s the thing: Respectability politics is a race to a finish line that doesn't exist. You can’t "behave" your way out of being marginalized. When we try to be "palatable" to gain acceptance, we’re essentially telling the world that only some of us deserve rights. And as soon as we throw one group under the bus (usually our trans siblings), the bus just keeps moving toward the rest of us.
Why Separation is a "Divide and Conquer" Tactic
In the history of marginalized movements, the oldest trick in the book is to convince the "almost-accepted" group that the "less-accepted" group is holding them back.
We’ve seen this in Florida. We see narratives that try to split the "LGB" from the "T." We see people being told that if they just stop advocating for identity-affirming therapy or gender-affirming care, the heat will die down for everyone else.
But if you look at the legislation being passed, it never stops at one group. Attacks on trans healthcare are often the pilot program for attacks on reproductive rights, which lead to attacks on marriage equality.
When we separate, we lose our collective power. When we stand together, we become a much larger problem for those trying to roll back our rights. Unity isn't about everyone being the same: it’s about recognizing that my freedom is inextricably tied to yours. If you’re a cisgender gay man in St. Pete, your right to exist safely in public is protected by the same walls that protect a Black trans woman or a neurodivergent nonbinary person. When one of those walls is knocked down, the whole house gets drafty.
The Mental Health Toll of "Fitting In"
In my work providing LGBTQ therapy in Florida, I see the psychological cost of these divisions every single day.
When you feel like you have to mask your true self: whether that’s your gender identity, your neurodivergence, or your relationship structure: to be "acceptable" to the broader community, it leads to a specific kind of burnout. We call it minority stress, but honestly, sometimes it just feels like being exhausted.
Many of our clients at Byrnes Counseling Group are navigating life transition therapy while also trying to figure out where they belong in a community that feels increasingly fractured.
- Am I queer enough if I’m in a straight-passing relationship?
- Am I too much if I’m loud about my trans identity?
- Do I fit in at Pride if I’m neurodivergent and the lights and sounds are overwhelming?
When we preach unity, we’re not just talking about politics. We’re talking about creating a world where you don’t have to ask those questions. We’re talking about a community where you can sit on our gray sofa and just be.
Trans Solidarity is the Pulse of Pride
Let's be real: Pride wouldn't exist without trans women of color. The very roots of our movement are grounded in the refusal of trans people to be "respectable" or invisible.
As a trans-led practice, we know that the magic of trans joy is a powerful form of resistance. But joy is hard to maintain when you’re constantly being used as a political football.
Solidarity means that when trans rights are under fire, the entire LGBTQ+ community shows up. It means refusing to accept "compromises" that leave the most vulnerable members of our family behind. In St. Pete, that looks like supporting local trans-led organizations, showing up for school board meetings, and making sure our Pride events are actually inclusive of trans and gender-diverse needs.
It also means doing the internal work. It means checking our own biases and asking ourselves where we’ve internalised the idea that some people are "too weird" or "too difficult" to stand with.
Finding Your People at the Intersection
At Byrnes Counseling Group, we specialize in those intersections. Whether you’re looking for EMDR therapy for past trauma or you’re a neurodivergent adult trying to navigate a world built for "neurotypicals," we believe that your whole self deserves a seat at the table.
True unity means celebrating the "Double Rainbow": the beautiful overlap of being queer, neurospicy, disabled, Black, Brown, or anything else that makes you you.
How to Show Up This Week (and Every Week)
As we move through St. Pete Pride 2026, I want to challenge you to look for ways to build bridges instead of walls.
- Listen to those who are different from you. If you’re cis, listen to trans voices. If you’re neurotypical, listen to neurodivergent experiences.
- Call out the "Good Gay" narrative. When you hear someone complaining that a certain part of the community is "making us look bad," gently remind them that liberation is for everyone, not just the polished.
- Support trans-led spaces. Whether it's a business, an artist, or your therapy practice, put your energy where your values are.
- Take care of your mental health. Being a revolutionary is tiring work. If you need a safe space to process the stress of being queer in Florida, reach out to us. We offer therapy for LGBTQ adults across the state because we know that a strong community starts with strong individuals.
We’re In This Together
The "divide and conquer" tactics only work if we let them. They work when we get scared, when we get tired, and when we start to believe the lie that we’re safer alone.
But we’re not. We’re safer together. We’re stronger together. And we’re a hell of a lot more fun together.
Stay tuned for the rest of our Pride series this week, where we’ll talk about gatekeeping, neurodiversity, and how to keep the community energy going after the last float finishes its route.
Happy St. Pete Pride, y'all. Let’s make it a year of radical unity.
Need a safe space to talk? Byrnes Counseling Group provides affirming, collaborative therapy for LGBTQ+ and neurodivergent adults across Florida via telehealth and in our St. Pete office. Book a consultation today.