Last weekend, LGBTQ+ people and allies in Atlanta took what felt like a collective exhale. On a flawless autumn weekend that locals described as having the year’s best weather, tens of thousands filled Midtown and Piedmont Park for the 55th annual Atlanta Pride festival — a celebration of identity, joy, and endurance that remains both the oldest Pride event in the South and the largest free Pride event in the nation.
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On Saturday and Sunday, the skies were clear, a gentle breeze drifted across the lawns, temperatures hovered near 75 degrees, and the usual Atlanta humidity was conspicuously absent. It was, in every sense, an invitation to gather.
Under the theme “Rooted in Resistance,” the festival sprawled across the park’s lawns and streets, drawing an astonishing array of humanity. Organizers said the theme was meant to honor the legacy of queer activists as well as the courage of everyday individuals, because, as they put it, “the very existence and celebration of LGBTQ+ lives are acts of resistance.”
Related: The National Park Service closes iconic Dupont Circle Park during WorldPride
Families of every configuration and with kids of all ages, furries and leather aficionados, drag queens, athletes, teens in glitter, and elders in sun hats all mingled freely. The soundscape shifted from house beats to laughter to the hum of conversations in English, Spanish, Portuguese, Farsi, and German. People of every gender expression and sexual orientation converged on the pristine green space to be in community and to allow the troubles of daily life to melt away.
It made for a portrait of the South that too rarely makes national headlines: plural, kind, unafraid.
Atlanta Pride organizers estimate the weekend drew more than 200 vendors and nonprofit groups, from grassroots advocacy organizations to those equipped to be major sponsors. The event’s stages featured musicians, drag performers, and speakers who invoked the LGBTQ-rights movement’s long history while celebrating its present vibrancy.
Throughout the park, the atmosphere was unmistakable — a blend of festival and family reunion. Parents with strollers queued for frozen treats. Queer elders traded stories in the shade. Couples leaned into each other for photos brimming with rainbow colors and smiles.
An attendee of Atlanta Pride, Shelly, faces off against anti-LGBTQ+ protestors at this year's festival.
Christopher Wiggins for 'The Advocate'
Not far from the laughter, at the corner of 10th Street and Piedmont Avenue, ground zero for the city’s queer community, a handful of anti-LGBTQ+ protestors from a church in Ohio clustered behind placards warning of damnation.
Steps away, Shelly, a straight ally who has lived in Midtown for 16 years, stood quietly under the sun holding four handmade signs. One read, “They never miss a gay party.” Another, in matching rainbow font, read, “Ignore them & go have fun! Love wins.” The others teased the protestors with Southern precision: “She doesn’t even go here — so obsessed with us,” and “Well bless their hearts.”
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“I love my neighbors, gay and straight,” Shelly told The Advocate. “It upsets me that people come in from out of town to protest a festival that supports this wonderful community that makes Atlanta a great place to live.”
Shelly said she was there not to argue, but to bear witness. “It’s my job as an ally to make sure people feel safe. This behavior isn’t acceptable in our community, especially not here at the rainbow crosswalk,” she said seriously, before flashing a smile. “I think these haters are absolutely ridiculous. I can’t wait for them to all drive back to Ohio.”
The spot where Shelly stood carries meaning far beyond the weekend. Atlanta’s rainbow crosswalk — permanent, city-funded, and freshly repainted each year before Pride — has been at the center of a national debate. Federal highway officials recently issued guidance suggesting that decorative crosswalks, including those painted in rainbow colors, could violate federal safety standards. In Florida and Texas, crosswalks like the one at 10th and Piedmont have been painted over and torn up.
But Atlanta has pushed back. In August, city officials affirmed that the rainbow intersection, installed with municipal dollars and outside the scope of federal highway funding, would remain in place. It is, they argued, both a cultural landmark and a local expression of civic identity.
Bob the Drag Queen dazzles at the 2025 Atlanta Pride festival.
Christopher Wiggins for 'The Advocate'
As night fell on Saturday, the park erupted with applause when comedian, activist, and Atlanta native Bob the Drag Queen, who rose to national prominence after winning RuPaul’s Drag Race, took the main stage.
Dressed in a sparkling black and gold ensemble that shimmered under the stage lights, Bob commanded the crowd with a mix of humor, political fire, and gratitude for being back in the city where they first performed. Thousands danced, shouted, and waved phone lights in the air. The energy was electric — a convergence of entertainment and homecoming.
Related: D.C. WorldPride organizers warn transgender visitors to the U.S. of potential travel risks
Bob’s set, a blend of music, stand-up, and reflections on queer resilience, became a defining moment of the weekend. It reminded many that Atlanta’s queer creative scene remains one of the strongest in the nation.
A diverse crowd attends festivities at the 55th annual Atlanta Pride.
Christopher Wiggins for 'The Advocate'
Outside Piedmont Park, a sense of political urgency mingled seamlessly with joy. The parade stepped off Sunday from Peachtree and 10th Street, winding through Midtown before ending in the park, where the crowd swelled beneath the afternoon sun.
Marchers hailed from queer youth groups, small and large businesses, advocacy organizations, city departments, and a growing number of faith-based congregations. By midday, an estimated 100,000 people lined Peachtree Street in Midtown to watch the parade. Lawn chairs, coolers of drinks, colorful garb, and cheering crowds filled the sidewalks for blocks.
Among the onlookers were Brian and Nikolas, a gay couple who asked to be identified only by their first names. They told The Advocate that the current political climate, with rising hostility toward transgender rights and renewed attacks on same-sex families, made this year’s Pride feel essential.
Related: The National Park Service closes iconic Dupont Circle Park during WorldPride
“As our community comes under increasing attack, we decided to come out and celebrate the diversity of the LGBTQ+ community,” said Brian, a nurse.
“Nobody’s going to take our joy,” added Nikolas, who works in consulting. “People of all ages and families of all structures are here, and nobody is scandalized. Nobody is being indoctrinated. People are having the time of their life, and that’s what it’s all about.”
Families, couples, kids, and singles fill the lawn at the annual Atlanta Pride festival.
Christopher Wiggins for 'The Advocate'
Atlanta Pride’s origins date to 1970, when roughly 100 people marched down Peachtree Street one year after the Stonewall uprising in New York City. Their courage created the foundation for what would become one of the most visible LGBTQ+ events in the South, a region where queer life has often been lived discreetly or at a risk.
As the sun dipped behind the Midtown skyline Sunday evening, the final notes of live music faded, and the park glowed in the soft light. Volunteers collected trash and folded banners. Couples lingered on the grass, kids dozed on picnic blankets, and strangers swapped photos and hugs.
For a weekend, the city’s center of gravity seemed to shift away from division and toward connection.
The Atlanta festival, like Pride events around the country, has always been dual in nature; it's both a protest disguised as a party and a celebration that remembers its own roots in defiance. And this year, the rainbow crosswalk, the cheering crowds, and even Shelly’s wry handmade signs all reflected the same truth: Visibility is a form of resistance.
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