In most parts of the US, Pride Month is long past. Corporations shove their rainbow marketing to the back of the proverbial closet as soon as the clock strikes 12 on July 1. But there is one place in the US where Pride doesn’t end on June 30—no, I don’t mean “in our hearts”—I mean in San Diego!

San Diego celebrates Pride in the month of July. There is a huge 2-day Pride Festival, events around the city, and of course a parade. I got to partake in my first ever San Diego Pride this year, and not only was it fun enough to write about, but I ended the month of July feeling so incredibly lucky to have found this community here.

Today’s post is all about San Diego Pride, the bulk of which fell on Pride Weekend, July 20-22 this year. It’s about the events I attended and how the blazing San Diego sun almost ruined me. It is about making friends and fostering relationships. It is about feeling a part of something bigger, like you’ve found some of your people. It’s about fresh starts, new beginnings, and how putting in the work is starting to pay off. It’s about how my life in San Diego looks so different from previous versions, how I’m so grateful for that.

Thanks for coming along on this little journey with me ( a week late, again) and happy Thursgay!

San Diego Pride Weekend 2024

Here’s how I spent my first ever San Diego Pride weekend.

Friday

There were events all around the city to kick off Pride Weekend, but I didn’t attend any of them. After my quick trip to London, followed by my loooong day of flying, I was in no shape to do anything that Friday. Plus, I had a 6:30 wakeup call for a race the next day. Instead of going out, I caught up on laundry from my week away, went grocery shopping, and watched two episodes of Game of Thrones (Season One, for anyone curious.)

Saturday

San Diego Pride 5k & Walk

My first San Diego Pride Weekend activity was bright and early—the Pride 5k Run & Walk. Unfortunately, and in true Toni fashion, I arrived late to the race. So late that I didn’t have time to find my run club beforehand and had to run alone. So late that I was at the bag check tent when the race started. Luckily, with the chip inside my bib, my true time was recorded and my lateness, according to the timer, never even happened. The course winds through Hillcrest, San Diego’s gayborhood and the location for the Pride parade. Because of the parade’s 10am start time, it is imperative that every runner finish the course by 9:30 am. They are strict about this, apparently.

I finished my race in 26 mins and 12 seconds, for an average of 8:27 minute miles. I placed 301 out of 2,287 overall, 65^th out of the 1,257 female-identifying runners, and 9^th out of the women in my age group. Not too shabby! The race was short and sweet, but it wasn’t all sunshine and roses. By the end of the course, the heat had kicked in and made running much more unpleasant. I worried, in my last mile, about the very real prospect of vomiting at the finish line. I hoped there would be a trash can at the end, just in case, and that the cameras would be turned elsewhere. Luckily, it didn’t come to that.

I found a couple girls from my run club after the finish, the reason I signed up in the first place, and I strode back to my car proud of my early-bird accomplishment, ready to take the second of what would be many showers that day.

Pride Brunch

Cleaned up, dressed for Pride, and ready to mingle, next up on the agenda was a brunch with some of the folks from run club. It is always a little awkward showing up to these things, alone and sober, seeing faces familiar enough to call acquaintances, but lacking the firm footing of a true “friendship”.

I can’t very well stay home every time I feel a little awkward, so I’m pushing myself and doing the thing. I keep showing up, the theory being that after enough time with familiar faces, they eventually transition to real, solid friendships—at least a few of them should, right?

The good news is I felt welcomed instantly. There was food, there were non-alcoholic mocktails for the sharing, there were people from run club I was happy to chat with, and there were new people with whom to expand my mingling horizons. After cocktails and conversation and a big group picture, we all walked over to watch the parade.

Pride Parade

The San Diego Pride Parade lasts longer than other pride parades I’ve been to. It snakes its way through Hillcrest, then down to Balboa Park in the span of about three hours. Local chapters of LGBTQ organizations, radio stations, drag queens, and corporate sponsors walk, drive, and dance along the route, passing out swag along the way. On a day as hot as that Saturday, I felt bad for the parade participants, fully exposed. The mid-day San Diego sun was high and hot. We all dripped sweat and attempted to cool ourselves using the rainbow fans handed out to the crowd.

By the time it was over, I needed to head home for my third shower of the day.

Pride Festival

Next up on my big Pride Day Adventure, was the San Diego Pride Festival. This is a 2-day event that takes place in Balboa Park and includes three stages with several musical acts, including DJs and live performers, bars, food stands, and vendors selling all kinds of stuff. The tickets were $42 and provide entry for both Saturday and Sunday. I paid for the ticket knowing I’d only be attending one day, but I didn’t feel like it was a waste of money. It was my first San Diego Pride, and I wanted to do as much of the fun stuff as possible. Be warned, though, food and drinks are pricey inside the festival. It could end up being a very expensive weekend if you’re drinking a lot.

I met up with my ‘kickball friends’ at the festival—a name I’ve given them because they, not I, play in a kickball league. I was lucky enough to meet them at a random event, and they are kind enough to keep inviting me out to hang with them, even though I don’t play kickball. I’m really glad to have found these girls.

After trapsing around Balboa Park, sitting in the grass, and dancing in the dirt, my sandaled feet were filthy, and it was time to head home for my FOURTH shower of the day. I considered calling it quits here, throwing on sweatpants and hitting the sheets early. I had been up since 6:30 am, run a 5k, and then stayed out in the hot sun, at several different events, all day. But some of my friends were going out that night, and my FOMO was stronger than my exhaustion. Trying on a cute outfit “just to see” after my shower was the final nail in the coffin. Tired shmired. I was going out.

Gossip Grill

Gossip Grill is one of the only lesbian bars in San Diego and one of the 30 or so in the whole USA. As such, it’s a pretty special place. It’s not only a social space for queer women, but also for gay men, for straight women, for anyone seeking an open, inclusive, safe space. Basically anyone is invited, so long as they’re respectful. I’ve partied at Gossip Grill plenty of times, but, not surprisingly, it is especially packed during pride weekend. Some of their pride weekend rules seemed a little extra—clear bags only, insisting even my wallet couldn’t come in and would have to be checked at a fee of $15 outside the bar. But I guess I can’t be too mad about them taking safety precautions. (Capitalism, amirite?)

Despite this, despite the 30 minutes I had to stand in a line wrapped around the building to get in, despite the crowd of people on the dance floor, the sweaty conditions, the bumping into bodies and spilling of drinks, it was a good time.

There is something about being surrounded by other queer women, being so…ordinary in a place. It’s freeing. We’ve all had the same realization. We’ve grappled with telling our family and friends. We’ve embraced ourselves, as we are, to varying degrees, and here we’ve found others like us. We understand each other, even if we don’t know each other.

Being surrounded by people who get you, it feels like unbuttoning your jeans after a big meal. Taking off your bra when you get home from work. Exhaling. We don’t even notice how we hold our breath in certain spaces, how we’re slightly less comfortable than we could be, until we’re in a room with a hundred others like us. Until we’re as ordinary as the paint on the walls, a spatter in a multi-colored, textured mural.