The Power of the Queer Locker Room
I still remember my first state hockey team. Not the wins or the drills — but the silence that hummed through the locker room when I didn’t quite match the mould. The jokes I laughed at but never found funny. The way I made myself smaller so no one could see the part of me I hadn’t yet found words for.
Back then, sport wasn’t where I went to belong. It was where I learned to perform. Be faster, be tougher, be normal — whatever that meant. I trained hard enough to sweat it out — sometimes harder than the straight boys — just to prove I belonged. But no matter how fast I ran or how many goals I scored I never quite shook the feeling that I wasn’t really invited.
Decades later, I know this much: for so many of us, the locker room was where we learned to shrink. But it can also be where we learn to expand.
Sweat, Science and the Simple Truth
Here’s what the research keeps telling us — and what many queer people know in our bones: group movement heals. Team sport reduces depression and anxiety, helps us sleep better, gives us structure and purpose. It’s one of the most reliable ways to counter loneliness and isolation — and for the most part, it’s free.
But for LGBTQIA+ people, that simple fix isn’t always so simple. The Out on the Fields study — the first international report on homophobia in sport — found that more than 70% of queer players still feel unwelcome in mainstream sporting spaces.
Homophobic slurs, casual digs, uniforms that don’t fit our bodies or our identities — the barriers are subtle but powerful. For many of us, they linger long after the final whistle blows.
What’s Missing (and What I Found)
I’ve played on plenty of mainstream teams. I’ve lifted in gyms where the mirrors felt colder than the barbells. And I’ve trained beside people who tolerated me — but didn’t really see me.
Then I joined my first queer-friendly club. And something clicked.
It wasn’t the drills — they’re the same anywhere. It wasn’t the wins — when I first started, we didn’t win much. It was the spark: the grin when you know you’re safe. The banter that doesn’t come at someone’s expense. The knowing nod when you mention your partner, or your pronouns, or your weekend plans — and nobody flinches.
For the first time, sport didn’t feel like a place I had to fit in. It felt like a place I could show up. Whole. Complete. Enough.
The Ripple Effect
The Challenging Homophobia and Engaging Men and Boys forum paper reminds us of this ripple: safe sport isn’t just about fun. It’s about safety everywhere. When a club gets serious about being inclusive, it changes the language in the locker room — and it changes the tone in the stands, the pub, the workplace, the classroom.
When we train together without fear, we learn to cheer each other on outside the game, too. Sport becomes a place to practice belonging — not just performance.
Letting Trans Kids Play — And the Rest of Us Too
This isn’t just an adult problem. Trans kids in sport have been thrown into the political arena like they’re policy problems instead of actual teenagers who just want to run, swim or play.
TIME Magazine recently argued what research already shows: letting trans kids play sports doesn’t just benefit them — it benefits everyone. Inclusion raises empathy, lowers bullying, and reminds everyone that sport is about connection, not exclusion.
Sweat Is Community
I say it all the time now: sometimes pride looks like sweat. Sometimes the place you find your people isn’t a club or a bar — it’s a muddy field, a dance floor, a yoga mat.
Queer sport isn’t niche — it’s necessary. It’s one of the most powerful, practical tools we have to fight loneliness, poor mental health, and the idea that we have to choose between being ourselves and being part of the team.
Show Up
If you’re LGBTQIA+ and craving connection, maybe your people are waiting on a court near you. Maybe they’re kicking a ball, lifting a barbell, or stretching out on a Saturday morning while the rest of the world scrolls by.
Check out Proud 2 Play. Look up your local rainbow league. Or watch this space — Get Out’s sports matching tool is coming soon, because sometimes finding your team is the first step to finding your place.
Not everyone wants the trophy. But all of us deserve a safe locker room — one where the only thing we leave behind is the version of ourselves that once felt too small to show up.