I am currently interning at the Bulgarian Centre for Non-Profit Law (BCNL), a civil society organization that focuses on civil participation, NGO capacity, legislative advocacy, and human rights. Though 2SLGBTQI+ issues are not a focus of BCNL, my colleagues graciously connected me with the newly established Amnesty International Bulgaria, where I had the opportunity to work on Pride programming and to connect with queer activists.
Through research, experience, and conversations with 2SLGBTQI+ peers, I quickly learned that Bulgarian society is deeply intolerant of queerness. Beyond general social disapproval, queer Bulgarians face legislative discrimination. Though the parliament amended hate crime legislation to include crimes motivated by a victim’s sexual orientation in 2023 (the first positive legislative amendment for LGBTI people in 20 years), the courts effectively imposed a blanket ban on legal gender recognition in that same year. Moreover, in August of 2024, Bulgaria’s Parliament passed amendments to the Education Act banning the “promotion” of non-traditional sexual orientation or gender identities in schools. The so-called “Don’t Say Gay” law echoes similar measures adopted in Georgia, Hungary, and Russia.
As the first Pride since August 2024, Sofia Pride 2025 took place in the shadow of “Don’t Say Gay.” Appropriately, the 18th edition of Pride adopted the motto: “people, not propaganda.” The march drew approximately 10,000 participants. The atmosphere was tense with an unprecedented police presence, ostensibly for our protection, though we overheard officers making derogatory comments about 2SLGBTQI+ individuals and expressing disbelief that they had to provide protection for the event. While no violent incidents occurred, intimidation was constant throughout the day. As our float made its way to the starting position, drivers attempted to tear off our balloons while shouting, and many onlookers glared with visible disgust.
The march faced six separate counter-protests, the largest being “The Big March for the Family,” organized by the Family Month Association under the auspices of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church. This counter-demonstration, held for the fifth time, gathered citizens in downtown Sofia to promote what organizers called “traditional Bulgarian families” consisting of a man, woman, and children. The religious-backed protest began at St. Alexander Nevsky Memorial Cathedral and proceeded through the city center with brass bands, bagpipes, choirs, and spiritual chants, followed by a concert featuring speeches by clergy and performances by children. The stark contrast between the Pride march’s struggle for acceptance and the counter-protesters’ organized religious opposition highlighted the deep divisions surrounding 2SLGBTQI+ rights in Bulgaria.
The atmosphere of hostility towards my identity leads to an unfamiliar unease. I have been fortunate in my life to have rarely contended with unabashed hatred of queerness. For the first time, I am consciously and regularly thinking about how the ways I look, dress, and speak code me as queer; in conversations with strangers, I find myself editing my words in real time to obfuscate my identity.
Through the discomfort, I am grateful for this opportunity to reflect on my identity. Conversations with my peers have led to the realization that, globally, Canada has a reputation for being a queer haven. While there are elements of truth to that characterization as evidenced by my own experience, it’s important to recognize that queerness is not uniform, and many LGBTI individuals, particularly the trans* community, in Canada experience discrimination and violence. Indeed, Canada is experiencing its own wave of legislation targeting the LGBTI community, namely restrictions on healthcare for trans youth, Quebec’s decision to incarcerate trans individuals based on sex assigned at birth, and regressive educational policies. Two things can be true at once: I can feel immense gratitude for the freedoms I enjoy and the safety I have found, while also acknowledging the structural barriers that others in my community continue to face.
In the face of regressive laws and increasing intolerance, LGBTI activists in Bulgaria have responded with incredible solidarity, creativity, and an unwavering commitment to community. I have been fortunate to connect with many individuals doing amazing work in my time here; I particularly appreciate my peers’ joint commitment to fighting injustice and celebrating queer joy.
By Emma Gurney, JD/BCL student at McGill University
Throughout this piece, I use 2SLGBTQI+ and LGBTI interchangeably; the former is preferred in Canada, and the latter is preferred in Bulgaria. I understand these acronyms to be similarly inclusive of all members of the community.