Glastonbury feels like the safest place in the world to be gay 

There are so many magical things you’ll find at Glastonbury you can’t find anywhere else.

Of course, there’s the music, with the chance to see some of the world’s biggest and most exciting acts all in one space, for one flat price.

There’s the endless opportunity of fun at every corner – this will be my 10th Glastonbury now and I’ve only experienced a fraction of Worthy Farm.

It’s a city of wild abandon, the most beautiful people, and I’ve never left feeling quite like the same person I arrived as.

There’s something comforting in disconnecting entirely. Even the crushing news of Brexit (that freakishly broke through) couldn’t dampen my spirits in 2016 – at least not entirely. 

But the absolute highlight for me, and I imagine other LGBTQ+ people, is that it actually feels like the one place in the whole world where I can be completely free and be totally accepted without any fear that my sheer existence will in any way put me in danger.

If anything, being queer isn’t just accepted at Glastonbury, it is so celebrated.

I never really had any ambition to go to Glastonbury until my first time in 2011. I had friends who went every year and I honestly didn’t have a single drop of jealousy. When it rained, it poured and Glastonbury just looked like paying £300 to experience a disaster movie. 

The line-ups were not for pop fans like me, my holy trinity of headliners at the time being Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera and Beyoncé. 

Then, of course, Beyoncé, somewhat controversially at the time, was confirmed as the Sunday night Pyramid Stage headliner and I’ve never wanted to go to anything more.

With tickets sold out, I didn’t see how that could happen. Thankfully, wherever there’s a will there’s a way and by some miracle two days before the gates opened I got offered the chance to work on a bar and I couldn’t refuse.

That year, I went for Beyoncé and Beyoncé alone.

Of course, she was just as electrifying as I’d hoped.

But it’s the people, the spirit and the safety of Glastonbury that’s kept me going back every year since.

I’d never seen or heard anything about its queer spaces until I’d been there – my interpretation of Glastonbury was so wildly off the mark.

Essentially, it becomes one of the most densely populated cities in the world when those gates open to the moment they close, with all walks of life living among each other with total inclusivity – drag queens striding alongside groups of lads who look like they could be on a stag do without batting an eye. 

I remember in 2015 waking up in my tent to the news that the US Supreme Court had legalised same-sex marriage across all 50 states, a moment I wasn’t sure I’d ever see in my lifetime. 

I was genuinely quite shell-shocked and later became quite emotional at a bar when I started talking about it with friends. We started cheersing to such a landmark moment before crowds erupted to join in, and I could feel how much it meant to everyone around us.

It felt like this was exactly where I wanted to celebrate and this crowd was who I wanted to celebrate with.  

The first time I ever went to Glastonbury with a partner was 2022.

That was also the first time it really dawned on me that I felt so much safer there than I’d ever felt with him before. I never wanted to let him go and I didn’t feel even remotely self-conscious. 

At home, we come through the door, throw our bags on the floor and immediately cuddle on the sofa. Rarely are we not entangled in some sort of embrace.

That changes once we leave our flat, as it does for most people – excessive PDA when others are trying to enjoy their day in peace should be outlawed. 

At Glastonbury though, beyond just feeling safe, it feels essential to pack on the PDA, to never let each other go and show everyone you’re in love – whether that’s with your partner or your best friend. 

I’m much more affectionate with my partner at Glastonbury than I would be in any other area that’s not specifically LGBTQ+ because, despite its enormous population, I very rarely hear of any instances of homophobia at the festival. 

Even though my partner and I live in east London, which has a thriving gay population, Pride flags are regularly vandalised, queer people are subjected to homophobic abuse, and the danger of that rarely leaves my mind. I just can’t imagine ever feeling like that at Glastonbury. 

As an LGBTQ+ person living in an increasingly homophobic country tumbling down the Rainbow Map, I feel we have to step back even further from showing affection in public. It doesn’t always feel safe and even when it does, who knows what or who is around the corner.

So when those gates open at Worthy Farm, I don’t just know some of the best memories of my life are going to be made, they’re going to be made because I’m stepping into the most queer-friendly place.

By day, I see people soaking up everyone around without any fear or judgement, enjoying some of the best music in the world. By night, if you like to party, Glastonbury is whatever you want it to be – but if you’re gay, it is quite literally the most electric experience you could ever have.

NYC Downlow is by far the best club in the world, packed with sweaty, topless ravers erupting with queer energy – easily the closest thing anyone can experience to the defiant hedonism of 80s gay club culture. 

If you can get in, which is in itself harder than getting a Glastonbury ticket, it’s become a rite of passage for queer icons playing over the weekend to pop up for a secret set, which is always the highlight if you’re fortunate enough to see it. 

Last year we were just a few feet from Jessie Ware moments after seeing her headline West Holts and I briefly froze in sheer amazement before dancing harder than I’ve ever danced before. 

In 2024, Glastonbury introduced a new LGBTQ+ venue too, a hairdresser-turned-nightclub Scissors, a femme-queer venue, which couldn’t be more needed as we see more and more venues catering to this community close their doors. 

And then there’s the line-up, which is getting gayer and gayer.

This year there are so many queer artists on the bill: Scissor Sisters, Doechii, Anohni and the Johnsons are all headlining across various stages over the three nights, while Jade and Charli XCX have devoted much of their career to lifting the queer community.

I don’t know how it felt to be gay at Glastonbury before 2011, but I know there’s nowhere else in the world I’d rather be gay than there.

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing jess.austin@metro.co.uk. 

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