It’s June in Florida, which means two things: the humidity is officially at "soup" levels, and Pride flags are popping up everywhere. For many of us in the LGBTQ+ community, seeing those rainbows can feel like a deep exhale. It’s a signal of safety, a nod of recognition, and a celebration of how far we’ve come.

But as a trans-led practice, we believe it’s incredibly important to pause and look at the soil those rainbows grew out of.

At Byrnes Counseling Group, we often talk about lived experience. We talk about the "already understood" feeling that happens when you sit across from a therapist who just gets it. But we also have to be honest: as white-identified, privileged folks in the community, our lived experience is only one part of the story.

The reality is that Pride didn’t start with a parade or a corporate-sponsored float. It started with a riot. And that riot was sparked, led, and sustained by Black and Brown trans women, the very people who are still, too often, pushed to the margins of the movement they built.

Honoring the Front-Liners: Marsha P. Johnson and Sylvia Rivera

If we’re going to talk about Pride, we have to talk about Marsha P. Johnson and Sylvia Rivera.

In June 1969, when the police raided the Stonewall Inn in New York City, it wasn’t the first time queer folks had been harassed. But it was the time they fought back. Marsha P. Johnson, a Black trans woman and self-identified drag queen, was at the heart of that resistance. Alongside her was Sylvia Rivera, a Latina trans activist.

These women weren't just fighting for the right to grab a drink at a bar. They were fighting for survival. They were navigating homelessness, police violence, and a world that tried to criminalize their very existence.

They also knew that the "mainstream" gay rights movement at the time was often quick to leave them behind. Even in the early 70s, as the first Pride marches began, trans women of color were often discouraged from speaking or participating. They were told their voices were "too radical" or that they didn't "look the part" for a movement seeking respectability.

Sound familiar? That kind of erasure still happens today, and it’s something we have to actively work against in our community and in our therapy rooms.

A respectful, minimalist historical-style illustration of diverse Black and Brown LGBTQ+ community members standing together in solidarity, with subtle protest-era details and a calm, supportive tone.

Intersectionality Isn’t Just a Buzzword

You might have heard the term "intersectionality." Coined by legal scholar Kimberlé Crenshaw, it’s the idea that our identities, race, gender, class, ability, don’t exist in vacuums. They overlap and intersect, creating unique experiences of both privilege and oppression.

For Marsha and Sylvia, their "transness" couldn't be separated from their "Blackness" or "Latinidad," or from the fact that they were poor and often unhoused. They were dealing with a "triple threat" of systems designed to keep them down.

When we approach LGBTQ+ counseling today, we have to keep that same intersectional lens. If a therapist only looks at your gender identity but ignores how your race, your neurotype, or your economic status impacts your mental health, they’re only seeing half the picture.

At Byrnes Counseling Group, honoring the legacy of Pride means understanding that:

  • Mental health is political. The anxiety or depression a Black trans person feels isn’t just "in their head", it’s often a very logical response to living in a world that isn't always safe for them.
  • Trauma is structural. While we use tools like EMDR therapy to help process individual trauma, we also have to acknowledge the systemic trauma of racism and transphobia.
  • Safety looks different for everyone. For some, safety is a locked door. For others, safety is a community that won't call the police.

A Note on Our Positionality (The "Humble Ally" Part)

I (Tristan) am a trans-identified therapist. I’ve lived the "before and after" of transition. I’ve felt the weight of being misunderstood by the medical system. But I also move through the world with the privilege of being white.

I know that while I share a "trans" label with the women who started Stonewall, my path has been made significantly easier because of my race. Acknowledging this isn't about guilt, it’s about responsibility.

As a practice, we are committed to being humble allies. That means:

  1. Continuous Learning: We don't expect our Black and Brown clients to educate us on racism. That’s our job to do on our own time.
  2. Naming the Elephant: We don’t shy away from talking about race in the therapy room. We know that whiteness is often the "invisible default" in therapy, and we work to name our own positionality so clients don't have to guess where we stand.
  3. Sharing the Mic: We know we aren't the only experts. This month (and every month), we want to point folks toward Black-led organizations and resources that are doing the heavy lifting in our community.

A minimalist illustration of a diverse LGBTQ+ community standing together in support and belonging, reflecting the Roots of Pride theme with a calm, historical feel.

Beyond the Office: Community Resources

We’re excited to spend the next few weeks highlighting some incredible Black-led resources that we truly admire. In our next posts, we’ll be diving deeper into:

  • Blaque Out Magazine: An incredible platform centering the voices and experiences of Black LGBTQ+ individuals.
  • Just Be Rooted: A Tampa/St. Pete-based therapy practice that provides a safe, healing space specifically for Black and Brown folks.

If you are looking for therapy and want a space that specifically centers the Black queer experience, we cannot recommend Just Be Rooted enough. They are doing vital work right here in our backyard.

Why This Matters for Your Healing

You might be wondering, "Tristan, why does this history lesson matter for my therapy session on Tuesday?"

It matters because you deserve a therapist who sees all of you.

If you are navigating the world as a person of color, as a neurodivergent adult, or as someone in a marginalized relationship structure (like polyamory or kink), you shouldn't have to leave parts of yourself at the door. You shouldn't have to explain why a headline in the news or a comment at work hurt you so deeply.

When we honor the Black and Brown roots of Pride, we are committing to a style of therapy that is:

  • Anti-Racist: Actively working to dismantle the biases we all carry.
  • Identity-Affirming: Celebrating your gender, your race, and your sexuality as strengths, not "problems" to be solved.
  • Collaborative: Recognizing that you are the expert on your life.

Let’s Keep Growing

Pride is a time for celebration, yes. Let’s wear the glitter, go to the festivals, and celebrate our joy. But let’s also make sure we are carrying the torch that Marsha and Sylvia lit.

Let's make sure our "inclusive" spaces are actually inclusive of the most marginalized among us. Let’s make sure our therapy is as radical as the women who threw the first bricks.

If you’re looking for a therapy space where you can just be: without having to manage the vibe or explain your existence: we’re here. Whether you’re navigating a transition, dealing with burnout, or just need a safe place to process the world, Byrnes Counseling Group is a space to just exist.

Happy Pride, Florida. Let's make it a meaningful one.


About the Author

Tristan Byrnes, a smiling bearded man with glasses, sitting outdoors.
Tristan Byrnes (he/him) is the founder of Byrnes Counseling Group. As a trans-identified therapist with lived experience, he is passionate about providing affirming, trauma-informed care to the LGBTQ+ community across Florida. He believes that therapy should be a collaborative, inclusive space where everyone feels seen and understood.