Outhouse LGBTQ+ Centre has been a cornerstone of support, connection, and advocacy for Dublin’s queer community for almost three decades. But the fight for LGBTQ+ rights isn’t just history—it’s happening now. Rising hostility, political and legal challenges, disinformation, and threats to our safety make spaces like Outhouse not just valuable, but vital. They are a refuge, an open door, and a place where joy can thrive despite it all. As we celebrate Pride month, we reflect on the challenges and triumphs that have shaped our journey—and the resilience that carries us forward.
There are days when the work we do feels impossible. When progress feels slow, when setbacks feel personal, when the sheer weight of what still needs to be done threatens to eclipse what has already been achieved. The fight for LGBTQ+ rights, for safety, for joy, is rarely straightforward—it is winding, it is relentless, and it is almost always uphill.
Just this year, Pride was banned in Hungary—an EU country—reminding us that even hard-won rights can be rolled back. Around the world, homosexuality remains illegal in over 60 countries, with 12 still imposing the death penalty. Here in Ireland, we’ve been ranked as having the worst trans healthcare in Europe. Conversion practices have yet to be banned. And we’re seeing a steady rise in anti-LGBTQ+ rhetoric, threatening the safety and dignity of our community.
In the face of all this, there are moments of doubt, of exhaustion, of disillusionment, when it’s easy to wonder: Is it worth it? Am I making a difference?
But doubt is not a sign of failure. Doubt is a sign that you care. That you know the stakes are high. That you are asking the questions that don’t have easy answers. And that’s just it sometimes—no meaningful change comes from easy answers.
On our best days, our urgency to build something better outpaces our fear that things won’t change. And on our hardest days, when fear and doubt linger, we do what we have always done—we outlast it. Because even when we don’t feel strong, we show up—for ourselves, for each other, for those who will walk this road after us. We show up for our community.
The work you do matters. The conversations you have matter. The spaces you protect, the kindness you extend, the ways you resist and exist—they all matter. Even when you can’t see the impact in the moment, even when the wins feel too small or too far apart, you are part of something bigger than the fear, bigger than the doubt.
So when the fight feels endless, remember: You don’t have to defeat doubt. You just have to outlast it.
And we will.
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While doubt and fear are inevitable, so too is the joy that can be found in our victories—big and small. It’s often the quiet moments, the personal triumphs, and the connections we make that remind us of what we’re fighting for. We don’t just outlast doubt—we build in spite of it. And perhaps the most powerful evidence of that is in the lives we live, and the stories we tell.
In celebration of Pride month and the resilience that defines us, we turn the focus to those who embody the spirit of joy, community, and perseverance. Here, we share a few stories from members of the LGBTQ+ community, our community, that showcase the ways in which we celebrate our identities, find strength in one another, and continue to build a future that is not defined by the challenges we face, but by the joy we create.
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Pauline, Eugene, and Annie’s Story
When Annie came out as transgender, her parents, Pauline and Eugene, were loving—but understandably worried. “I just wanted her to be safe,” Pauline recalls. It wasn’t instant celebration, but it didn’t take long to get there. With time, a bit of learning, and a lot of love, their response became what it had always been at its core: unwavering support.
Now in her thirties, Annie reflects on that time with appreciation and perspective. “I was always just so accepted,” she says. Still, she’d carried fears with her—fears not shaped by her family, but by the world outside. “I think I was getting it from society and TV… The only time you saw a queer story on TV growing up was like, you come out and then you get thrown out of your house.”
Her reality, thankfully, unfolded differently. In a home with four children, two of whom are LGBTQ+, the family’s openness and capacity to adapt has become part of its everyday rhythm. Pauline and Eugene are quick to say they’re still learning. But they’ve never questioned the foundation: love, respect, and togetherness.
That acceptance wasn’t born from instant understanding, but rather from the values already embedded in the family. Eugene, her dad, nods to the shifts they’ve all gone through. “You adjust your thinking, you change,” he says, “and you do it because you love your children.”
The family is full of warmth and humour—comfortable, affectionate, often playful. There are inside jokes, shared glances, and references to jazz sessions where Eugene and Annie connect through music. “Annie and I get joy,” Eugene says, smiling, “trying our hand pretty simplistically at some jazz tunes.” He adds that Annie has strong and supportive relationships with each of her siblings—“it’s a close-knit bunch,” he says.
It’s a quiet kind of joy that pulses underneath their story—something steady and generous. Pauline reflects on this idea with sincerity. “I hear a lot about queer joy from Outhouse,” she says, referring to the LGBTQ+ centre where Annie works. “And I think it’s such a good way to put it. Because there’s so much focus on the struggles—and they are real—but there’s joy too.” She lights up when talking about her children. “Aoife’s met this gorgeous woman, absolutely lovely. And that’s joy for me—to have somebody like that in her family and ours.” She turns to Annie with a cheeky smile. “My joy, what I’m waiting on now, is for Annie to meet someone. No pressure!”
This joy doesn’t mean the family has ignored the real challenges trans people face. It’s part of what drove Pauline’s early fears when Annie came out. “I was scared,” she admits. “Scared of the world, of how people would treat her. But never of who she was.” It’s that distinction—between fear for someone and fear of them—that seems to define this family’s clarity.
There’s reflection, too. Pauline speaks about identity with an intuitive kind of acceptance. “All of us are on a long line anyway,” she says thoughtfully. “A spectrum. So why can’t gender be the same?” It’s a perspective that feels both simple and expansive.
And perhaps that’s the most radical thing of all—not just acceptance, but ease. A home where gender, identity, and love can coexist without condition. Where a family grows alongside each other. Where joy is not a surprise—but something expected, shared, and deeply felt.
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Stella’s Story
My name is Stella, a lesbian woman seeking asylum in Ireland because I had to flee my home country, where my identity put me at tremendous risk. I’ve travelled a journey filled with struggle, pain, and fear, which has led me to a strength and support I never dreamed I could find.
Back home, living openly was a life-or-death matter. Growing up in a deeply homophobic society—where being gay or lesbian was punishable by imprisonment or even mob violence—I learned to suppress my true self. I lived with the constant fear of being discovered. I suffered beatings and public humiliation for simply being who I am.
When my family found out about my sexuality, I was completely rejected and banished from home. I was told I was a shame and an embarrassment. At that time, I felt like I deserved death rather than the rejection and hostility I was facing. Life felt meaningless in such an environment, and I knew that if I wanted to survive, I would have to escape one day.
Leaving my country was the hardest decision I’ve ever made. I had to give up everything for the sake of my life. The journey to Ireland was filled with uncertainty. I was haunted by the fear of whether I would ever find acceptance.
When I arrived in Ireland, I felt both relief and anxiety. Seeing LGBTQ+ flags flying in public spaces was thrilling and mesmerizing. I applied for asylum, but the interview process involved revisiting my traumatic past. Each time I shared my story, it felt like I was reliving the shame and pain, and I would again feel like I had to hide.
During this difficult time, I was recommended to a remarkable Irish LGBTQ+ community centre—Outhouse—by my counsel. I was hesitant to engage with people, but he encouraged me, saying Outhouse was a place where I could meet people like me.
The first time I visited, I sat quietly in a corner and ordered a cup of tea before walking to reception to ask about activities. I was drawn to the Sapphics and Safe Space group activities. Safe Space suited me well, since it was held on Saturdays and I could travel in from Wicklow more easily.
When I walked into that first Safe Space group meeting, I was so timid. The room was filled with vibrant, diverse individuals. I felt an energy of belonging that I had never experienced before. I met people like me—each person with a story of struggle and survival—and for the first time in my life, I felt understood.
The group meetings, the support, and the people I found within Outhouse became my lifeline. I learned about resilience from others who had endured similar experiences. Together, we celebrate our identities and share in the power of acceptance.
I’ve since become a volunteer Safe Space group leader so I can support others who are trying to navigate their own struggles. The Outhouse community has helped me begin to heal.
Ireland has given me the opportunity to live without fear. Pride celebrations and open discussions about love, resilience, and hope have allowed me to envision a life where I can embrace my identity rather than hide it.
Though my past is marked by pain, rejection, and hostility, I now stand proud—determined to use my voice to advocate for those still facing adversity.
Image caption: Stella chose not to be photographed, prioritising her privacy and the safety of her family.
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Aoife’s Story
“A Message of Welcome to Rainbow Families.” I’m Aoife, a facilitator of Rainbow Families, a social group at Outhouse LGBTQ+ Centre. My own background is that my wife and I have a great teenager. I obtained a retrospective declaration of parentage back in 2020, when our child was eleven. I hope that someday all families will have the same legal recognition.
When my wife and I were first trying to find ways to have a child, we felt isolated by our lack of contact with other LGBTQ+ families in Ireland. Information was not freely available in those days and any clinics that would treat LGBTQ+ people were very wary of negative publicity. We would have loved to find other people who could understand our situation.
In the present day, when Outhouse advertised for Rainbow Families facilitators, I knew I wanted to be involved. It’s important for a group like ours to exist, to offer the support and friendship of other families. I’ve really enjoyed meeting everyone.
Rainbow Families is one of Outhouse’s social groups and operates on a drop-in basis in the Café. People are free to walk in for a chat without any need to sign up. We describe the group as being “a space for LGBTQ+ parents, families, and parents-to-be.” All kinds of families attend and are welcome: single parents, grandparents, couples, people hoping to start a family sometime in the future. Many parents bring their children (of all ages) along, but it also isn’t unusual for a parent or prospective parent to attend by themselves for a chat. There are board games and books available in the Café to entertain children.
If you’re thinking about attending Rainbow Families but worry that you won’t “fit in”, please come along. There is no typical attendee and we are all different. Pride is all about celebrating diversity and if Rainbow Families is of interest to you for any reason, you are welcome. Some of our best meet ups have happened when people with completely different life experiences met each other. We’ve often heard international perspectives on LGBTQ+ families and family rights.
Whether you are hoping to meet other LGBTQ+ families or just want to ask for information, we would love to see you at Rainbow Families. Rainbow Families is currently meeting once a month on the third Saturday of the month from 12 noon to 2pm, usually in the Outhouse Café. Occasionally we will be upstairs in the Outhouse Library if we are having a special Storytime event, reading books aloud to families.
Hope to see you there!
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Patrick’s Story
Patrick doesn’t consider himself one of the “superstars” of Ireland’s LGBTQ+ rights movement—but he’s been there through it all. “I was never the one giving the big speech,” he says, “but I was always the bum in the seat. I showed up. That’s what mattered.”
Since the 1980s, Patrick has played a quiet but steady role in shaping Ireland’s queer landscape. His work with Gay Community News (GCN) and the Dublin AIDS Alliance began at a time when being openly gay came with serious personal risk—and when HIV and AIDS were devastating the community. Patrick trained in massage therapy to support those living with HIV and AIDS in hospitals like St. James’ and Cherry Orchard. “Back then,” he says, “just being willing to touch someone with care could be seen as political. That tells you something about the time we were living in.”
But Patrick’s contributions go beyond care work. In the 1990s, he was one of the voices inside the National Gay Federation pushing for broader inclusion—helping to usher in the name change to the National Lesbian and Gay Federation. He was a peer educator, a health advocate, and a contributor to the Irish AIDS Memorial Quilt. He didn’t always have the resources or the safety net that some others did, but he believed in taking part, however he could.
“I didn’t have the ability to be front and centre,” Patrick says. “But I believed in the cause. I was political with a small p. What I do is political—even if it’s just showing up, making space, being counted.”
That sense of commitment—to people, to place, to presence—has carried through his decades of volunteering. He’s been with Outhouse LGBTQ+ Centre for 25 years, making him the organisation’s longest-serving volunteer. These days, he facilitates two of its most beloved social groups: Gold, for LGBTQ+ people aged 50 and up, and Men’s Night, a Friday evening drop-in.
“Outhouse has been a constant,” he says. “And it’s not just about support, it’s about friendship. Belonging. Having a place to be yourself—whether you’re 25 or 75.”
Looking back, Patrick is keenly aware that change hasn’t been linear. “It’s never a straight road. Some things move forward, others go back. But we’ve always kept going. That’s the bit I hope younger people hold onto—it’s not about feeling powerful all the time. It’s about not disappearing when things get hard.”
He doesn’t romanticise the struggle, nor does he underestimate today’s challenges. But Patrick believes that collective action—no matter how small—is what makes progress possible. “You don’t have to be a hero,” he says. “Just show up. Back someone up. Sit in the room. Sometimes, that’s enough to help carry things forward.”
For Patrick, personal freedom and collective commitment go hand in hand. “I am what I am,” he says, “and I’ve always believed: if you want to be free, you’ve got to show up for others too. That’s the work. That’s what makes the difference.”
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As we reflect on these stories, we are reminded that Pride is not just a month—it’s a movement. The work of building a truly inclusive world, a world where every person can exist authentically and joyfully, is ongoing. Each story shared here serves as a reminder that the fight for equality is not just about enduring hardship, but about making space for joy, love, and expression.
At Outhouse LGBTQ+ Centre, we are committed to being a place where that joy is cultivated. We’re here to support each and every individual in their journey, to provide a space for connection, and to stand as a beacon of hope for the LGBTQ+ community. This Pride month, as we honour those who have fought for the rights we enjoy today, we also celebrate the lives that are being lived in full colour, the futures we are building, and the collective joy that propels us forward.
As we continue to outlast the doubt, together, we will create a future defined by our courage, our love, and our celebration of who we are.
Words: John Mee
Photos: Anna Mello
If you believe in the power of community, connection, and queer joy, consider supporting Outhouse LGBTQ+ Centre. Your contribution helps ensure that our doors stay open to all. Visit outhouse.ie for more information.
