The Future of LGBTQIA+ Allyship: Moving Beyond Performative Support
Photograph of the Rainbow Bridge, Diest (2021). Photographer Unknown.
Every year during Pride season, we see the same thing happen. Politicians, public figures, brands, and institutions flood social media with rainbow graphics and carefully worded statements about “love” and “inclusion.” But for many of us in the LGBTQIA+ community, those posts increasingly feel empty when they are not backed by meaningful action. We witnessed the same performative Support during IDAHOT+ (International Day Against Homophobia, Biphobia, Transphobia, and Intersexphobia).
As Queer people, we are exhausted by performative Allyship.
A recent example that frustrated many of us in Diest (Belgium) came from Bart Stals on Instagram on 17th May 2026. Stals, a Belgian politician and public figure, shared a Pride-related post featuring the Rainbow Bridge in Diest. At first glance, the post appeared supportive. But the photograph used was taken in 2021, when the bridge was first decorated, and no longer reflects the bridge's current reality, which has visibly deteriorated, suffered neglect, and, in June 2025, was the site of Hate Speech graffiti.
Translation provided by Instagram: In Diest we embrace diversity. We believe everyone has the right to live, love, and shine as they are — no matter who you are or who you love to see.
That's why we put one extra message in the paint today: 🧡💛❤️💚💙 Love is love.
Using an outdated image presents a polished, idealised version of LGBTQIA+ visibility while avoiding the uncomfortable reality many Queer people are actually talking about: the lack of care, investment, and urgency surrounding Queer public spaces and Queer safety. To many of us, it felt less like solidarity and more like branding. A PR stunt by politicians, those in positions of influence and power, to make their city appear more welcoming than the reality.
This is exactly why social media posts are no longer enough, especially ones representing a false reality. When I discovered this social media post, I headed down to the Rainbow Bridge in Diest on 28th May 2026 to take photos of the current state of the bridge. The Queer community has been calling for the city hall and police to address the Hate Speech graffiti appearing in the area, as well as to refresh the paintwork on the bridge, with no response.
The state of the bridge is a visual indicator of what the local authorities think of the LGBTQIA+ community, making a mockery of the now faded hashtag: #iedereenwelkomindiest
Queer communities are asking for more than visibility. We are asking for accountability. We are asking people in positions of power and influence to move beyond aesthetics and into action. Because Allyship is not measured by how many rainbow emojis appear in June or on IDAHOT+. It is measured by what people do when LGBTQIA+ communities are facing hostility, discrimination, vandalism, and violence. Right now in Diest, this is nothing.
As discussed in my previous post, “From Vandalism to Violence: Why Labelling Hate Speech Accurately Matters” downplaying anti-LGBTQIA+ hostility by using softer language minimizes the seriousness of what Queer people experience. When Hate Speech, intimidation, or targeted vandalism are dismissed as isolated incidents or harmless behaviour, it contributes to a culture where escalating hostility becomes normalised.
Many Queer people understand this instinctively because we live with the consequences of it.
We know that violence rarely begins with violence. It begins with rhetoric. With indifference. With institutions refusing to take anti-LGBTQIA+ hostility seriously until the damage becomes impossible to ignore.
That is why performative Allyship feels so frustrating. It creates the appearance of support while avoiding the risks that real Allyship requires. Real Allyship means speaking clearly about hate. It means protecting Queer spaces instead of simply posting photos of them. It means funding community initiatives, challenging discrimination publicly, and standing with LGBTQIA+ people even when it is politically inconvenient.
Visibility matters. Representation matters. But visibility without action increasingly feels hollow.
If politicians, institutions, and influential figures genuinely want to support LGBTQIA+ communities, then Pride and IDAHOT+ cannot remain a seasonal social media strategy. Support must continue after it ends. It must exist offline, in policy decisions, community investment, public accountability, and the protection of Queer lives and spaces.
Because Queer people do not need Instagram posts. We need people in power to actually show up.
