Sunday (17) is the International Day Against Homophobia, Biphobia, Intersexphobia, and Transphobia (IDAHOBIT). At first glance, IDAHOBIT may seem like just another commemorative day on the global calendar. But its origins tell a story that rings true even today.
On 17 May 1990, the World Health Organization removed homosexuality from its classification of mental disorders, a decision that shifted the global conversation around queerness from pathology to personhood. It was a moment that affirmed what these communities had long known: that their identities were not illnesses, but valid, human expressions of self.
IDAHOBIT is a reminder that visibility itself can be radical, and that dignity is something worth insisting on, every single day. It is about naming the discrimination, violence, and stigma that LGBTQIA+ individuals continue to face, while also celebrating resilience and progress. It is a day that invites reflection, not only from within the community but from society at large.
Over time, however, the day has evolved, much like the movements it represents. What began in 2005 as the International Day Against Homophobia (IDAHO) expanded in 2009 to include transphobia, becoming IDAHOT. Between 2015 and 2018, it evolved further to IDAHOBIT, incorporating biphobia and intersexphobia.
Today, it is often understood more broadly as a day against LGBTQIA+ (an inclusive acronym for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer/questioning, intersex, and asexual/aromantic/agender people) discrimination in all its forms and reflects a growing awareness that exclusion can exist even within marginalised spaces, and that true advocacy must be expansive, inclusive, and constantly evolving.
In Sri Lanka, the day has taken on its own layered meaning. It is marked by small gatherings, conversations, campaigns, and moments of quiet solidarity. It is a day of remembering, of resisting, of holding space, and of simply existing. In a context where being openly queer can still come with risk, these acts of visibility carry immense significance.
The sociopolitical landscape surrounding LGBTQIA+ rights in Sri Lanka has been anything but static. The 2023 Special Determination by the Supreme Court, which affirmed that decriminalising same-sex relations would not be unconstitutional, was widely regarded as a landmark moment. For many, it represented a shift in legal thinking and offered a glimpse of what progressive reform could look like.
Yet, this progress exists alongside growing resistance. In recent years, Sri Lanka has seen an increase in anti-rights rhetoric, often influenced by global movements that frame gender and sexual diversity as threats to cultural or moral values. This tension, between progress and pushback, defines the current reality.
And it is precisely within this tension that IDAHOBIT becomes most meaningful.
A day to celebrate hope
For Youth Pride Founder and Executive Director Vishwa Pathum, IDAHOBIT is not just a symbolic day, it is a deeply emotional one.
“As a queer person in Sri Lanka, IDAHOBIT is both emotional and empowering for me,” Vishwa shared. “It is a reminder that despite the discrimination, stigma, violence, and silence many of us still face, we continue to exist, resist, and create spaces of hope for ourselves and for future generations.”
Vishwa’s words reflect the duality that many queer individuals experience – the coexistence of hardship and resilience. “This day is not only about celebrating identity, but also about recognising the courage it takes to live authentically in a society where many LGBTQIA+ people still struggle to feel safe, accepted, or even seen.”
Working closely with queer youth and communities, Vishwa sees firsthand the complexities of this reality, and while there is still a long way to go in terms of equality, protection, education, and dignity, they noted that “change is possible because more people are starting to listen, learn, and stand with us”.
“What I would want the general public to take away from this day is simple: queer people are human beings deserving of love, safety, respect, and equal opportunities just like everyone else,” Vishwa said of their hopes for awareness built around IDAHOBIT that extends beyond the community.
Adding something that cuts to the heart of the matter, Vishwa noted: “Acceptance can save lives. A kind word, support from a family member, inclusive education, or standing up against discrimination, these are not small things. They can make a huge difference.”
The weight of silence and stigma
While legal reforms often dominate public discourse, the lived realities of queer individuals are shaped just as much by everyday interactions – by what is said, unsaid, or assumed.
Pragna Collective Programme Manager and Communication Consultant Sriyal Nilanka spoke candidly to The Sunday Morning Brunch about the emotional toll of these experiences. “As a queer person in Sri Lanka, especially someone who has also struggled with mental health and substance use, this day reminds me that many of our wounds do not begin with us,” he said. “They begin with shame, isolation, fear, and the constant pressure of feeling like we must defend our existence.”
This powerful statement shifts the narrative from individual struggle to systemic impact. “For many queer people, the struggle is not only about identity, but about the way society reacts to them. Comments, ridicule, rejection, misunderstanding – all of this slowly shapes how a person sees themselves and copes with life,” Sriyal said.
He emphasised that mental health could not be separated from these experiences. “Mental health struggles and substance issues cannot be meaningfully addressed without also addressing the stigma and discrimination queer people face every day.”
His message to the public is both simple and urgent. “Queer people are not asking for special treatment,” he said. “We are asking for dignity, safety, empathy, and the ability to exist without shame. Even small shifts in public perception, choosing to listen instead of judge, to support instead of dismiss, can genuinely change, and sometimes save, lives.”
Inclusion over tolerance
For many activists, the conversation must move beyond tolerance, a word that, while often well intentioned, can imply mere acceptance of difference rather than genuine inclusion.
LGBTQIA+ youth activist and Diversity and Solidarity Trust Chairman Heshan Niluminda highlighted the gap between visibility and safety, saying: “As a queer person in Sri Lanka, I still feel unsafe. Systemic barriers, cultural stigma, and religious pressure continue to shape our lives.”
Heshan stressed that being seen did not always mean being protected. “True inclusivity cannot exist until our society understands that queer people deserve safety, dignity, education, job security, and family acceptance just like everyone else,” he shared, adding: “Acceptance is more than sympathy or tolerance. It is about creating spaces where no young queer person is left behind.”
Heshan pointed to the role of everyday environments in shaping experiences. “It begins at home, within our families, schools, workplaces, and communities,” he said. “These are the spaces where inclusion must be practised, not just spoken about.”
He also challenged a common misconception that LGBTQIA+ rights were somehow at odds with Sri Lankan culture. “Sri Lanka’s culture is built on humanity and diversity. Not on colonial laws that continue to criminalise and silence us,” he said.
A space for pride and reflection
For queer rights activist Dinushi Halloluwa, IDAHOBIT is both a moment of pride and a time for reflection.
“It reminds me that despite discrimination, stigma, and legal and social barriers, our community continues to exist, resist, and thrive with courage and resilience,” she said, echoing a recurrent theme: that resilience is not the absence of struggle, but the ability to continue despite it.
Halloluwa also emphasised the importance of acknowledging those who came before. “It is a day to honour those who paved the way for visibility, dignity, and equal rights, often at great personal cost,” she noted.
Her message to the public is grounded in equality. “Queer people are not asking for special treatment,” she said. “We are asking for the same respect, safety, and opportunities afforded to everyone else.” She also added: “Diversity is not a threat to society. It is part of what makes society stronger, kinder, and more humane.”
A moment with broader impact
As IDAHOBIT continues to evolve, so too does the movement it represents. What began as a day focused on homophobia has grown into a broader, more inclusive recognition of the diverse identities within the LGBTQIA+ spectrum.
This evolution mirrors the work that continues on the ground, work that is often slow, sometimes difficult, but always necessary. In Sri Lanka, this means continuing to build safer spaces, to advocate for legal reform, and to challenge harmful narratives. It means listening to those who have been silenced, overlooked, or misunderstood, and ensuring that their voices are not only heard but valued.
It also means recognising that change does not happen overnight. It happens in conversations, in classrooms, in homes, in policies, and in the quiet moments where someone chooses empathy over judgement.
For queer individuals across Sri Lanka, IDAHOBIT is a reminder that they are not alone. That their identities are valid, that their voices matter, that their dignity matters, and that their freedom to live as themselves, openly and safely, without fear, matters, and that their futures are worth fighting for.
And for everyone else, it is an invitation, to listen, to learn, and to stand in solidarity. Because at its heart, IDAHOBIT is not just about one community. It is about all of us, and the kind of society we choose to build together.