Mine happened in the mid '80s, when it was called Gay Pride. I was out to my parents, I had my first boyfriend. We wore T shirts with an inverted pink triangle and joined a march around London until it finished in Hyde Park for a free pop concert with various big bands (Erasure, Tom Robinson et al).
I remember we stopped outside No 10 Downing Street and chanted “Gay Rights!” repeatedly, then moved on.
At the start I saw an open deck double decker bus with guys on top yelling out “Coooeeee!”.
I didn’t go again to Pride for many years - next with my current boyfriend and got to see how much it had changed - from a protest march to a celebration. It changed over the years allowing us to march initially to only registered groups - gone was the spontaneous marching - gone was the free Party in the Park.
My first pride, I was overwhelmed with the emotion of having found my people
Since then, my awareness of the politics, and corporate influence have taken the shine off of it. I still love being with my community, but my awareness of how far removed it is from its origins is something I can’t unsee