During the conversation, Shomo said he struggled to get the words out to Fleur and was “bawling” as he tried to explain feelings he had “been running from for a long f---ing time.” He recalled telling her that “the way that, like, I feel about girls, I feel about guys,” a realization he said he could no longer suppress despite fear, nerves, and difficulty verbalizing such a significant truth.

Inside the “really difficult” conversation with Fleur

On the podcast, Shomo emphasized that he “didn’t verbalize it very well” when he first attempted to tell Fleur about his sexuality, noting that he often finds it hard to articulate intense emotions even in less fraught circumstances. He described himself as “bawling my f---ing eyes out, trying so hard to verbalize” what he was feeling, and said the moment was charged with nervousness and fear because of what it could mean for both of their lives.

Shomo said that once he began to acknowledge that his feelings toward men mirrored the way he had been taught to think about attraction to women, “the f---ing hinges got ripped out,” suggesting that the conversation triggered a cascade of personal reckoning and relationship change. He also shared that coming out in his private life led him “immediately” into therapy, where he began addressing both his sexuality and what he described as “severe ADHD,” alongside broader issues of self-esteem and mental health.

From internal struggle to public statement

Shomo’s description of his personal conversation with Fleur follows his public coming‑out on May 23, when he posted a lengthy statement on Instagram declaring, “I am a proudly gay man” after what he called months of speculation about his personal life. In that statement, Shomo wrote that coming to terms with his sexuality was something he had been “unpacking and reckoning with” for quite some time, and that it had been “difficult to navigate the feelings surrounding the subject and figure out what to do with this fact.”

He also acknowledged that for around a decade he attempted to cope with his internal conflict by using alcohol, describing a cycle in which substances dulled the discomfort of hiding his identity but also delayed his ability to fully confront it. He said that giving up alcohol and pursuing sobriety played a direct role in helping him reconcile with his sexuality and move toward what he hopes will become genuine self‑love.

In the Instagram statement, Shomo thanked Beartooth fans and others who have supported him and encouraged anyone “struggling with who they are” to “give yourself grace” and “do the hard work instead of burying it,” framing his coming‑out as both personal testimony and a message to others navigating similar questions about identity.

A 14‑year marriage and a painful split

Shortly after his public announcement, Fleur Shomo shared her own lengthy, emotional statement on Instagram, describing the experience of supporting her husband through his journey while also grieving the end of their marriage. The couple, who married in 2012 and had been together for nearly 14 years, do not have children together, according to multiple reports.

In her post, Fleur wrote that she was the only person dealing with “the duality of this situation,” saying that “to support him whilst losing everything has been incredibly hard to figure out.” She reflected tenderly on their relationship, calling their marriage “wonderful and full of so much fun, adventure, and love,” and concluding, “Our story was a good one. And now it is done,” signaling both her support for Shomo and her acknowledgment that the romantic chapter of their lives together had ended.

Media coverage has highlighted how Fleur’s statement centers both compassion for Shomo’s well‑being and honest grief over the loss of their marriage, underscoring the emotional complexity that spouses can experience when a partner comes out later in life. Her response has drawn attention in fan communities and on social platforms, where many users have discussed the importance of recognizing both partners’ experiences in situations like this.

Mental health, therapy, and the road to self‑acceptance

On Disrespectfully, Shomo said that starting therapy immediately after coming out to Fleur marked a turning point in his mental health journey and his relationship with his sexuality. He noted that treatment has helped him address what he described as “severe ADHD,” alongside longstanding patterns of self‑criticism and self‑hatred that had shaped his inner life for years.

Shomo told the podcast hosts that tools such as therapy, exercise, eating well, getting sunshine, maintaining good sleep, and being creative have all supported him as he works toward accepting himself as a gay man. He said his “ultimate goal” is to learn to love himself and to help others do the same, while acknowledging that he has “a long f---ing road” ahead and still needs to “forgive” himself for past decisions and the pain that change has caused.

These remarks align with themes Shomo has previously discussed around Beartooth’s catalog, which he has often framed as an outlet for his struggles with depression, anxiety, and identity, even before he publicly named his sexuality. Coverage of his Instagram post and subsequent interviews has emphasized how sobriety and mental health treatment allowed him to interrogate long‑standing patterns and move toward living more openly as a gay man.

Impact on fans and the rock community

Shomo’s coming‑out and his description of that “really difficult” moment with Fleur have prompted wide discussion in rock and metal communities, where fans have shared their reactions across platforms including Reddit and Instagram. Many supporters have pointed to his openness about sexuality, addiction, and mental health as an example of how prominent musicians can help reduce stigma for LGBTQ+ people and others navigating similar issues, while also recognizing that his story includes real loss for both him and Fleur.

Reporting has also noted that Shomo’s announcement comes at a time when Beartooth continues to enjoy a significant profile in alternative metal, with their sixth studio album, titled Pure Ecstasy, scheduled for release in August 2026. While Shomo has indicated that his future music will reflect this new chapter and his commitment to expressing himself more honestly, detailed comments on specific songs or lyrics have not yet been widely published.

In combining his intimate account of coming out to his wife with broader reflections on authenticity, mental health, and recovery, Shomo has offered a rare, detailed look at how a long‑term heterosexual marriage can intersect with a later‑life acknowledgment of being gay. His story continues to unfold in public view, but his recent comments suggest that he is focused on healing, living openly as a gay man, and hoping that his visibility can support others facing their own “really difficult” conversations.

She recalls telling her friend that neither of them felt like they belonged in the social spaces around them, describing themselves as “too magical” and hungry for joy, pleasure, and sexiness in an environment that often offered conformity instead. Decades later, she says that vow has become a guiding principle behind how she designs her shows, writes her songs, and talks about queerness and self-acceptance with her fans.

From drag-bar awakening to queer “home”

Kesha links that prom memory to another early turning point: her first time at a drag show, which she calls a “queer awakening” and the inspiration behind her debut-era track “Take It Off.” She says discovering a drag space at a young age showed her a world of playful, defiant joy where she finally felt like she belonged and saw the blueprint for the kind of community she wanted to nurture through her art.

In a separate, wide-ranging conversation, Kesha remembers searching for spiritual and social belonging while growing up in Nashville, including dragging her mother from church to church in hopes of finding a community that did not condemn queer love. When religious spaces framed same-sex love as sinful, she says she felt alienated and confused, questioning how any form of love could be “against God” if God is defined as love.

She recounts that she eventually found a different kind of sanctuary in punk and drag scenes, particularly at a punk rock drag bar in California where she remembers thinking, “Oh shit, these are my people,” because the joy she saw there felt both rebellious and hard-won. That experience of queer nightlife as a site of resistance and solidarity now directly shapes the “queer church” atmosphere she says she wants to cultivate on tour.

Building “a place for people like us” on The Freedom Tour

Kesha’s current Freedom Tour is the most explicit expression yet of that prom-night promise to build a place for people who never fit neatly into expectations. As an independent artist now in full legal and creative control of her work, she describes the shows as an “unbelievable spectacle” designed to be a safe space where queer and questioning people can be the “weirdest, queerest, wildest” versions of themselves without fear.

She tells fans that entering this tour is like joining a “secret club” or family in which everyone is “entitled to love yourself and love who you love,” explicitly framing the concerts as an ongoing commitment to queer inclusion. At shows, she says, Pride flags and visuals are not decoration but declarations that everyone in the venue—especially LGBTQ+ people and those still exploring their identities—belongs in that space.

Discussing the emotional arc from her earlier album “Rainbow” to 2025’s independently released “Period ,” Kesha frames her new era as the fulfillment of a promise to her younger self that one day she would be “happy and free.” She says her current performances, including reimagined versions of career-defining hits, are part of a healing process in which she and her fanbase “reprogram” those songs with positive energy and queer joy.

Radical love and queer safety in a hostile climate

Kesha stresses that her focus on creating safe spaces for queer and questioning fans is in direct response to ongoing hostility toward LGBTQ+ communities in many parts of the world. She says she struggles to understand “the levels of hatred and vitriol” directed at queer and transgender people and sees her role as providing “little bubbles of light and love” inside venues where fans can feel radically accepted.

On tour, she describes a specific goal: she wants every person in the crowd to feel that they are loved “exactly as they are” and that the space she creates “is for them, and they belong,” language that explicitly centers LGBTQ+ people and allies while not excluding anyone else. She notes that when Pride imagery appears during the show, the crowd response becomes louder and more electric, which she interprets as a collective release for people who rarely see themselves celebrated at that scale.

Kesha also connects queer visibility to sexual freedom and body confidence, arguing that loving one’s own body and desires is a form of resistance in a culture that often attempts to instill fear and self-hatred. She frames her recent “Joyride!” single and its sexually liberated, campy video as an honest snapshot of her own journey through sexual awakening, liberation, and a later choice to be “mostly celibate,” insisting that authenticity and self-directed choice are what make the art meaningful.

Queer identity, labels, and lifelong fandom

Kesha has spoken over the years about her attraction to people regardless of gender and her complicated relationship to labels, at times identifying with the LGBT community and later publicly rejecting strict terms like “gay” or “straight” in favor of describing herself simply as someone who loves people. In interviews highlighted by LGBTQ+ media, she has emphasized that she is part of the queer community while also acknowledging that her understanding of her own identity has evolved and may continue to do so.

That fluid approach to labels is reflected in how she talks about her fans, whom she calls “Animals,” describing them as a mix of outsiders, glitter lovers, and misfits who have grown alongside her for more than a decade. She credits those fans—many of them queer or questioning—with helping her fall back in love with her own catalog and says she makes career decisions based on what will best honor that relationship rather than chasing chart positions or metrics.

Looking back, Kesha says she feels “really proud” when she connects the memory of that teenager in a parking lot, promising her “one queer friend” that she would someday “make a place for people like me and you,” with the reality of stepping onto a stage framed by Pride imagery and a “sea of queer people” during the Freedom Tour. In her view, the prom date, the drag-bar epiphany, the church doors that did not open fully to queer love, and the arenas now filled with LGBTQ+ fans are all chapters of the same story: the long process of making good on a promise to create a world where people like her—and people like that prom date—are not just tolerated but celebrated.

The single follows Stalter’s debut track “Prettiest Girl in America,” which kicked off her pop era in May as part of the lead-up to her forthcoming album Crave, due later in the summer. Together, the releases signal a sustained, musically driven project rather than a one-off bit, even as Stalter continues to lean into the offbeat humor that made her famous online and on television.

Lyrics that revel in queer joy

From its opening line, “GAY” establishes itself as a deliberately unsubtle celebration of queerness and Pride. The song begins with Stalter declaring “I love gay,” followed by the tongue‑in‑cheek promise, “I know you guys wanted a gay song / Honey, you’re gonna be gaying up and down when you hear this one,” setting a campy tone that embraces repetition and hyperbole as tools for joy.

The track centers primarily on queer women’s experiences, reflecting Stalter’s own identity as a bisexual person currently in a relationship with a woman. At the same time, the lyrics intentionally widen their focus, punctuated by the line “Protect the dolls, and the serve, and the they,” which offers direct affirmation to drag queens, transgender people, and nonbinary people, integrating contemporary queer slang alongside an inclusive roll call.

Stylistically, “GAY” draws on electronic dance‑pop with an emphasis on vocal fry, exaggerated intonation, and a “bimbo‑core” sensibility reminiscent of early 2010s club pop. Critics have noted that the song’s sound and writing place it in the lineage of irreverent queer party tracks that mix comedy and hedonism while still functioning as straightforward, high‑energy dance music.

From viral “Hi Gay” to full pop era

Stalter first became widely known to LGBTQ+ audiences with her 2021 viral “Hi Gay” video, a satirical faux‑advertisement in which she played an over‑eager ally addressing gay consumers, a clip that went on to be widely shared during Pride season and helped cement her status as a queer comedy favorite. That early sketch already linked Stalter’s persona to Pride‑adjacent humor, and “GAY” extends that relationship into a polished pop format that intentionally blurs the line between comedic bit and earnest celebration.

In interviews around her debut single “Prettiest Girl in America,” Stalter and collaborators described her album Crave as a project she co‑writes, with production contributions from Matias Mora and Jesse Thomas, indicating that her move into music is structured and collaborative rather than purely improvisational. The new single “GAY” appears on streaming platforms under Stalter’s artist account, with credits listing her as the performer and Mora as mixing engineer and producer, underscoring its status as a formally released track rather than a novelty upload.

Stalter announced the song’s arrival directly to fans on Instagram, writing in all caps, “SHE’S GAY AND SHE’S COOL AND SHE’S AWESOME! Our Gay song called Gay is out NOW!” and linking to the single. That message framed the release as communal—“our Gay song”—and leaned into the same exaggerated enthusiasm that characterizes her on‑screen and online persona.

A busy year across TV, Broadway, and music

The release of “GAY” comes during a high‑profile period across Stalter’s career in television, theater, and music. The most recent season of Hacks—the Emmy‑winning series in which she plays chaotic assistant Kayla—has just completed its run, keeping her visibility high among mainstream audiences while she introduces herself to listeners as a recording artist.

In parallel, Stalter is preparing to take over the title role in the Broadway production of Oh, Mary! next month, expanding her presence into live theater at the same moment her music career ramps up. Her debut album Crave is slated for release later this summer, with “Prettiest Girl in America” and “GAY” serving as its first two singles and suggesting a record steeped in club‑ready production and character‑driven writing.

Coverage in LGBTQ+ and entertainment outlets has highlighted that “GAY” captures the “deranged, carefree fun” associated with Stalter’s comedy, even as her goals—whether a long‑term pivot to music or a multi‑medium performance project—remain open to interpretation. Vulture previously described the broader Stalter pop venture as walking a line where it is “hard to tell…whether this is an actual attempt to pivot, or an extended bit,” emphasizing that the ambiguity is part of the appeal for audiences who enjoy her unpredictable style.

Pride playlists and community reception

While comprehensive streaming numbers and chart positions for “GAY” had not been widely reported in the days immediately following its June release, the song has already been featured in queer media as a recommended Pride Month track and framed as a likely staple for club DJs during June events. Australian LGBTQ+ outlet Star Observer similarly referred to it as an “iconic Pride Month club track,” underscoring expectations that the single will resonate particularly within queer nightlife spaces.

Commentary from outlets covering the single places emphasis on its affirming and inclusive language, noting how Stalter uses humor not to mock queer communities but to amplify queer joy, solidarity, and a sense of collective in‑jokes. The instruction embedded in the lyrics—“Make sure this song never ends ”—has been read as a tongue‑in‑cheek plea for DJs to keep it in rotation throughout Pride season and beyond.

As an out bisexual performer whose fan base includes many LGBTQ+ people, Stalter’s choice to title the song simply “GAY” and fill it with direct references to drag queens, transgender people, nonbinary people, and queer women fits into a broader trend of artists creating anthems that speak explicitly to queer audiences. For listeners seeking Pride music that foregrounds camp, humor, and inclusivity, “GAY” offers a deliberately exaggerated yet affirming soundtrack to celebration.

The 70‑year‑old choreographer and television personality, who has been part of DWTS since its first season in 2005, described himself as “the least planning person” and emphasized that he still loves the work and the audience connection the show provides.

Bruno addresses his future on DWTS

In a recent interview about DWTS season 35, Tonioli was asked directly whether he had considered how long he wanted to continue as a judge on the U.S. ballroom competition.

Tonioli replied that he does not map out an end date and instead focuses on the joy he still finds in the role, saying he “really, really” enjoys the job and the energy of the public.

In a separate segment highlighting the same remarks, he elaborated that he plans to remain as long as producers continue to want him on the panel, adding that he “really love the show.”

When an interviewer suggested there was “no Dancing With the Stars without Bruno,” Tonioli responded modestly but did not dispute his intention to stay, underscoring that there is no formal exit plan in place.

A fixture since the show’s early days

Dancing With the Stars premiered in the United States in 2005, adapted from the BBC’s Strictly Come Dancing, with Tonioli installed as one of the original judges and remaining in that role across dozens of competitive seasons.

Over that time, the series established a format pairing celebrities with professional dancers, and Tonioli became known for his animated critiques, expressive body language and emphasis on performance quality as much as technical precision.

His long tenure on the U.S. series followed his earlier work on Strictly Come Dancing in the U.K., where he judged from the launch of that program in 2004 until 2019, frequently commuting between the two countries to appear on both versions.

As pandemic travel disruptions made that schedule difficult, Tonioli eventually departed Strictly’s judging panel permanently while choosing to remain with DWTS, cementing the U.S. series as his primary television home.

Leaving ‘Strictly,’ staying with ‘Stars’

Tonioli confirmed in 2022 that he would not return to Strictly Come Dancing, citing the logistical challenges of travel and the move of DWTS to streaming on Disney+ in the United States as key factors.

During that announcement, he explained that DWTS’s move to Disney+ and its live‑streaming format required continuity, and that he could not guarantee weekly travel to the U.K., leading to Anton Du Beke taking his place as a permanent Strictly judge.

At that time, Tonioli stressed that the decision to leave the British series was his and that he supported Strictly’s need for stability on the judging panel after years of remote or intermittent appearances.

Since then, he has repeatedly described DWTS as the project he plans to prioritize, reinforcing that stance again in early June 2026 when asked about any future exit.

Franchise expansion and evolving format

Tonioli’s comments came as ABC and Hulu prepare to expand the DWTS franchise with a new series, Dancing With the Stars: The Next Pro, scheduled to debut in July 2026.

The spinoff is set to focus on professional dancers within the franchise and is described as part of a broader 2026 expansion for the long‑running ballroom format.

In his June interview, Tonioli said he is not part of The Next Pro but noted that “friends” of his are involved, adding that he could not reveal more ahead of the spinoff’s launch and encouraging viewers to tune in.

His remarks highlight how the main DWTS series and its extensions continue to generate work and visibility for professional dancers, celebrities and creatives across multiple platforms, including broadcast and streaming.

Cultural impact and visibility

DWTS, like Strictly Come Dancing before it, has become a significant platform for diverse contestants, including LGBTQ+ celebrities and professional dancers, to share their stories with a wide audience.

Over its many seasons, the show has featured same‑gender partnerships and queer contestants, contributing to broader visibility for LGBTQ+ communities within mainstream entertainment, although the specifics and frequency of those pairings have varied by season.

Tonioli, who has worked across both the British and American formats, has often emphasized the importance of performance, emotion and connection in his feedback, elements that can help affirm the identities and narratives of dancers and celebrities whose experiences are underrepresented elsewhere on television.

In past interviews about Strictly, he has also expressed admiration for the show’s empowering presentation of women hosts, saying the U.K. series “works best” with two women fronting it, an outlook consistent with efforts to center gender equity and inclusive representation in entertainment.

What Tonioli’s stance means for fans

For DWTS viewers who have followed Tonioli’s judging style for more than two decades, his statement that he will remain “until they want me” signals continuity at a time when many long‑running TV properties are retooling or rotating on‑screen talent.

His decision to anchor his future to the producers’ wishes, rather than a personal retirement timeline, suggests that any change in his role is more likely to come from a creative or structural shift within the franchise than from his own desire to step back.

At the same time, DWTS’s expansion into projects like The Next Pro indicates that the franchise is growing beyond its original format, potentially creating new opportunities for professional dancers, including LGBTQ+ dancers, to build careers on and off camera.

For now, Tonioli’s message is clear: as season 35 approaches and the show explores new formats, he sees his place firmly behind the judges’ desk, responding to each performance in the same animated fashion that has defined his public persona since 2005.

Poehler told Holland she has watched the clip “more than most movies,” underscoring just how deeply the performance has embedded itself in internet culture. Holland replied, “I get more compliments for that dance than any piece of work I have ever done,” reiterating a sentiment he has expressed in earlier interviews about the enduring fame of the two‑minute routine.

How the ‘Umbrella’ performance unfolded

Holland’s Lip Sync Battle appearance, filmed to promote Spider‑Man: Homecoming, began with a tap‑inspired rendition of “Singin’ in the Rain” performed in a grey suit against a classic musical‑style backdrop. The routine then smashed into Rihanna’s “Umbrella,” complete with artificial rain, as Holland ripped off the suit to reveal fishnet tights, black shorts, a fitted black vest, red lipstick, and a short dark wig, embracing a drag‑coded aesthetic that surprised the studio audience and viewers at home.

The actor delivered a tightly choreographed dance amid the downpour, integrating floor work, high‑energy kicks, and synchronized movement with backup dancers in a staging that has since been replayed tens of millions of times across platforms. Nearly a decade later, Comedy Central’s upload of the performance has amassed more than 172.5 million views on YouTube, making it one of the most‑watched clips in Lip Sync Battle history and a frequent reference point in discussions of mainstream drag and gender‑fluid performance.

A career defined by a two‑minute clip?

Despite a filmography that includes the Marvel Cinematic Universe, the disaster drama The Impossible, and several high‑profile projects, Holland said the lip sync remains the work people bring up most often when they meet him. Mandatory, a pop‑culture outlet that summarized his Good Hang appearance, noted that Holland “asserts that he is recognized more for that moment than for his Spider‑Man films,” even as he promotes the upcoming epic Odyssey.

Holland framed the discrepancy with a mix of humor and exasperation, calling the number the thing “everyone brings up” and describing how the performance “haunts” him because of how often it is mentioned compared with his carefully chosen acting roles. At the same time, he stressed that he is proud of the Lip Sync Battle appearance and sees it as an “amazing time” that left a “lasting impact” on both his career and popular culture.

Comfort with femininity and early dance training

Poehler suggested on the podcast that one reason the “Umbrella” performance resonates is that Holland appears “comfortable with feminine side,” a comment she connected to his history as a boy in ballet and musical theatre. She referenced his time in the West End production of Billy Elliot the Musical, where he first played Billy’s friend Michael before taking on the title role in 2008, placing his Lip Sync Battle turn in a longer arc of dance‑centered performance and gender‑nonconforming stage roles.

Holland’s experience with ballet and musical theatre contributed to the technical polish of the routine and may help explain why many LGBTQ+ people and allies embraced the performance as a joyful, non‑derisive take on drag‑inspired femininity in a mainstream setting. Poehler framed his performance as an example of someone navigating “what is typically male what is typically female,” highlighting how his comfort in that space helped the clip stand out from other instances where men in dresses are played primarily for laughs.

Behind‑the‑scenes nerves and wardrobe debates

Holland told Poehler that he was “really excited” but also nervous about performing a live dance number, worrying about the possibility of missing choreography on such a visible stage. He recalled that in dress rehearsal, a member of the creative team asked if the shorts could be cut even shorter, prompting him to push back and say he was “doing enough” and that the look was already “years ahead of its time.”

The actor admitted that he did not spend much time considering how the broader audience might react to the gender‑fluid styling, focusing instead on the fun of building a number that escalated from classic musical to full‑scale pop spectacle. During the live taping, he sensed the studio audience initially deflate as he started “Singin’ in the Rain” in a suit, worrying that younger crowd members did not understand the reference, then felt the energy spike when he tore off the suit to reveal the drag‑coded outfit.

Family concerns and the risks of going viral

Holland has previously said that his father, writer and comedian Dominic Holland, tried to dissuade him from doing Lip Sync Battle out of concern that such a flamboyant performance could harm his long‑term career. According to Holland, his father believed a slower, more measured path to fame would be safer, warning him about relying on viral moments rather than sustained acting work.

Reflecting on that advice, Holland told The Independent in 2021 that the show was “incredibly stressful” but ultimately “incredibly successful,” helping his career even as it became the go‑to reference point when people talk to him. In recounting those comments alongside his new remarks on Good Hang, outlets have highlighted how the performance marks a turning point where a single viral clip began to rival his blockbuster work in shaping his public image.

Resonance with LGBTQ+ audiences and mainstream drag visibility

Holland’s “Umbrella” routine is frequently cited online in conversations about positive masculinity and straight‑identified men embracing femininity without mockery, especially in contrast to older comedy tropes that used cross‑dressing purely as a joke. Commentators have noted that his earnest, high‑effort commitment to the look and choreography distinguished the performance from less affirming portrayals and contributed to its popularity among LGBTQ+ viewers who value playful, respectful engagement with drag and gender expression.

The ongoing life of the clip—circulating on platforms such as YouTube, TikTok, and X in edited and meme forms—illustrates how a short, gender‑fluid performance can evolve into a cultural touchstone that outlives its original promotional context. For many viewers, the routine functions both as a showcase of Holland’s dance training and as a moment of mainstream television where drag aesthetics were treated as joyous spectacle rather than punchline, even if the segment itself was not explicitly framed as drag.

Balancing blockbuster roles and a viral legacy

As Holland prepares to debut in Odyssey, where he plays Telemachus in a reimagining of the Greek epic directed by Christopher Nolan, coverage of his Good Hang comments has emphasized the tension between his ambitions as a serious actor and the persistent association with a two‑minute musical performance. The actor has said he is “calculated” in choosing projects and invests “blood, sweat, and tears” into his film work, even as audiences continue to gravitate toward the exuberant Lip Sync Battle clip as their primary reference point.

Holland’s reflections underline a broader reality for contemporary performers: a single viral moment, especially one that engages themes of gender expression and performance, can define public perception long after the cameras stop rolling. Even as he moves into more mature roles, his “Umbrella” drag‑inspired routine remains a key part of his legacy, particularly for viewers who saw in it a playful, affirming challenge to rigid ideas about how men are “supposed” to move, dress, and perform on screen.

Mescal, known for roles in Normal People, All of Us Strangers and the forthcoming Gladiator II, framed his intervention as a response to what he described as an increasingly urgent political climate. “Given the political climate at the moment it feels more and more pressing that we make our voices heard,” he said, adding: “This is a moment for respect, safety and recognition. Trans rights are human rights.”

Organisers and outlets covering the march have described Mescal’s comments as his first explicit public statement on trans rights, distinguishing them from previous roles in LGBTQ+ stories or general support for queer communities. Coverage emphasised that the actor is joining a widening chorus of public figures who are speaking directly about legal protections, social hostility and media narratives affecting transgender people in the UK.

London Trans+ Pride 2026: “Our Future, Our Fight”

London Trans+ Pride organisers have set the 2026 march for Saturday 25 July, marking the event’s eighth year as a grassroots-led protest and demonstration through central London. This year’s theme, “Our Future, Our Fight,” is framed by organisers as a response to what they describe as escalating threats to transgender people’s rights and safety in the UK and beyond.

Organisers say they expect the 2026 march to match or exceed last year’s demonstration, which drew an estimated 100,000 participants and has been widely reported as the largest trans pride event in history. PinkNews likewise reported that 2025’s London Trans+ Pride turnout reached 100,000 people, with organisers inviting both transgender protesters and allies to return in similar numbers this year.

The 2026 march is being presented not as a parade but as a protest, centring demands for healthcare access, legal protections and freedom from harassment for transgender people and the wider trans+ community. In their announcements, organisers highlight the march as a space for visibility and resistance, emphasising that trans+ people will lead the demonstration while allies are encouraged to attend in solidarity.

A growing chorus of high‑profile supporters

Mescal’s statement appears as part of a series of messages of support coordinated around the London Trans+ Pride 2026 theme announcement, featuring a broad mix of artists, activists and politicians. Among those highlighted are Spice Girls singer Mel B, actor and writer Michaela Coel, singer Jessie Ware, presenter and actor Jameela Jamil, model and activist Munroe Bergdorf, and former Labour Party leader Jeremy Corbyn.

PinkNews and other outlets also note that Heartstopper star Yasmin Finney is among the public figures lending their support, continuing her visibility work as a young Black transgender actor in mainstream television. Coverage across LGBTQ+ and entertainment press stresses that these endorsements arrive in a context where trans advocates say legislative proposals and media narratives have intensified pressure on transgender communities.

Several outlets characterise Mescal’s involvement as notable because he is a high‑profile, award‑nominated actor widely associated with prestige film and television, which may help broaden the audience for London Trans+ Pride’s messages. Scene Magazine similarly frames his statement as reflecting a “growing sense of urgency” and an important show of allyship at what organisers call a “critical moment” for transgender rights.

“Respect, safety and recognition” as key themes

Across interviews and press releases, organisers underscore three recurring demands: respect, safety and recognition for transgender people in daily life, law and healthcare. Mescal’s statement mirrors this language, explicitly describing the present as “a moment for respect, safety and recognition” while urging supporters to “make our voices heard.”

PinkNews reports that London Trans+ Pride organisers are calling out what they see as “fewer protections” and heightened hostility facing transgender communities, and are using this year’s event to demand more robust safeguards. Scene Magazine likewise quotes organisers warning that 2026’s march comes at a “critical moment,” tying the “Our Future, Our Fight” theme to wider struggles over healthcare access, legal recognition and social inclusion. Coverage stresses that the march remains trans‑led and protest‑focused, centring the voices of transgender and non‑binary people while welcoming allies to participate.

While the exact route for the 2026 march has not been detailed in the coverage reviewed, reports consistently describe the demonstration as taking place “in central London” and building on previous years that saw routes pass through major city landmarks. Organisers characterise the event as both a celebration of trans+ lives and a direct challenge to what they describe as discriminatory laws and hostile media narratives.

Media, fandom and the visibility of allyship

Entertainment and LGBTQ+ outlets note that Mescal’s visibility as a critically acclaimed actor may carry particular resonance for transgender audiences and allies who have followed his work in queer‑themed projects. His performances in films and series that explore queer relationships have contributed to a devoted fan base, and commentators suggest that explicit support for transgender rights may help some audiences feel more seen and affirmed.

Blogs and culture sites, including OMG.BLOG, have amplified Mescal’s exact words, reproducing his call for “respect, safety & recognition” and reiterating his statement that “Trans rights are human rights.” These outlets situate his comments within a wider media ecosystem in which celebrity statements can have both symbolic and practical effects, including drawing additional attention to grassroots organisers’ demands.

Organisers have not announced any official speaking line‑up for the 2026 march in the coverage surveyed, and there is no confirmation that Mescal or other high‑profile supporters will attend or address the crowd in person. Articles instead focus on the significance of public statements themselves, presenting them as part of a broader narrative of solidarity with transgender people at a time of heightened scrutiny.

Looking ahead to July’s march

With just under two months until London Trans+ Pride 2026, organisers are urging transgender people and allies to prepare for what is expected to be another large‑scale demonstration centred on trans liberation. Reports suggest that the march will again combine protest chants, community speeches and memorial moments, reflecting both the joy and grief present in many trans+ spaces today.

Media coverage indicates that London Trans+ Pride continues to position itself as a trans‑led demonstration distinct from more corporate‑sponsored pride events, with grassroots organisers foregrounding demands for systemic change. Against this backdrop, Mescal’s decision to speak publicly on trans rights for the first time is being reported as one of several high‑visibility endorsements amplifying calls for dignity, equality and safety for transgender communities ahead of the July protest.

Manilow’s comments were published this week in a Los Angeles Times interview, where he looked back on his 2017 decision to publicly acknowledge that he is gay and married to his longtime manager, Garry Kief. Describing that moment, he said the announcement itself turned out to be far less dramatic than he once feared, calling it “a non-event” and saying audience reactions confirmed that many fans had long assumed he was gay.

‘They all knew’ but silence felt safer

In the new interview, Manilow says that while he never felt he was actively hiding his sexuality, he nevertheless avoided speaking about it because of what it could have meant for his career during earlier decades. “I never really hid it, but in the ’70s and ’80s, that would have killed the career, and I didn’t want to do that,” he told the Los Angeles Times, adding that his response was simply, “So I just never talked about it.”

He also said that when he did come out publicly, “Nobody gave a s***,” explaining that fans and colleagues “all knew” and that his private life had never been a secret in personal circles, even if it remained unspoken in the press. The singer has previously used similar language when describing his later‑in‑life coming out, telling other outlets in recent years that the public acknowledgment of his sexuality changed little in his day‑to‑day life or his relationship with his audience.

A long partnership, finally named

Manilow married Garry Kief, his manager and partner, in 2014, after more than three decades together, but their relationship was not publicly confirmed until several years later. Reports of their marriage began circulating in 2015, before Manilow formally came out in a 2017 People magazine feature in which he spoke openly about their relationship and his sexuality.

At the time, Manilow said he had worried that publicly claiming his identity as a gay man might disappoint his largely female fanbase, many of whom had followed his career since the 1970s. In that earlier profile, he recalled thinking “I thought I would be disappointing them if they knew I was gay, so I never did anything,” a sentiment that he is now revisiting as he describes the era in which he first became a star as actively hostile to openly LGBTQ+ entertainers.

Industry pressure and stigma in the 1970s

Manilow’s comments echo earlier statements he has made about the music industry climate when he first rose to prominence, including an appearance on CNN’s “Who’s Talking to Chris Wallace,” in which he said that in the 1970s “you didn’t come out” if you wanted to maintain a mainstream pop career. He has also described being implicitly warned by industry figures about the risks of being openly gay, saying record executive Clive Davis pointed to Elton John’s experience as an example of how public discussion of sexuality could damage an artist’s commercial success at the time.

In another televised conversation, Manilow said that if he had come out early in his career, it “would have killed my career, it would have been over immediately, done,” underscoring how deeply he believed his livelihood depended on staying silent about his identity as a gay man. Those remarks align closely with his new comments to the Los Angeles Times, in which he frames his earlier closeting as a strategic decision made within a hostile cultural context, rather than a denial of his identity or relationships.

Personal burden and later relief

Manilow has previously described the years he spent keeping his sexuality out of public view as a “burden,” saying that the tension between his private reality and public image weighed on him as his career grew. In an interview published last year, he said he had been “always worried” that his career could “go away” if he were perceived as too open about his personal life, even as he acknowledged that attitudes toward LGBTQ+ people had shifted.

After coming out publicly, Manilow has occasionally joked that he felt “insulted” by how little fuss was made about the announcement, suggesting with humor that the anticlimactic reaction underlined how much fear he had carried unnecessarily. Yet he has also consistently emphasized that the quieter response meant his fans accepted him without the backlash he once dreaded, and he has expressed gratitude that younger LGBTQ+ artists can be more open today than he felt he could be at the start of his career.

Health, legacy and continuing work

The new comments about his coming‑out timeline and career risks appear against the backdrop of recent news that Manilow has been diagnosed with lung cancer, information he discussed in the same Los Angeles Times interview cited in several reports. Coverage notes that he is continuing to work and promote new music, including a reimagined version of his 1992 song “Another Life” released earlier this month ahead of his upcoming album “What A Time,” due in June 2026.

While Manilow’s latest remarks focus primarily on his own path, they contribute to a broader historical record of how gay and bisexual entertainers navigated mainstream success in eras when being openly LGBTQ+ often meant lost opportunities, cancelled tours or restricted airplay. For LGBTQ+ advocates and historians, his reflections on choosing privacy to survive in a hostile industry help illustrate how social and industry pressures limited the options available to many artists of his generation, even as his later‑life openness highlights the changing landscape for LGBTQ+ people in entertainment today.

Background and new remarks

The comments came in an interview with music magazine The FADER about Petras’s upcoming independent album Detour, which follows her split from major label Republic Records and marks a deliberate shift toward more personal songwriting. In that conversation, Petras described Detour as a project where she feels “in control again” artistically and emotionally, after a period of frustration with label delays and leaked music.

Discussing the song “Brutalist,” she said it may be the first time she has spoken so directly in her music about her trans identity and about traveling across Germany with her father to access hormone therapy as a young teenager. She linked those memories to the broader story of how, from her early teens onward, she became a familiar public figure in German media as one of the most visible transgender young people in the country.

A childhood in the spotlight

Petras first drew widespread attention in Germany when, at around 13, she appeared on the television program Stern TV to talk about her medical gender transition and her efforts to access gender-affirming surgery earlier than the usual legal age of 18. She went on to feature in documentaries and talk shows discussing her journey, which led some outlets to refer to her as the “world’s youngest transsexual,” language she and many advocates now regard as outdated and stigmatizing.

In the new interview, Petras said that when she first spoke to the media she was “12 talking about it,” adding: “I kind of regret because privacy was really blurred,” though she emphasized that at the time she felt “really unashamed” and saw her openness as simply stating facts about her life. She has previously described how that media attention could feel dehumanizing, telling LGBTQ+ outlet PinkNews in 2020 that as a teenager she was “minimised to genitals” in coverage and that the experience was “disgusting.”

The singer has also spoken about the intense bullying she endured growing up, saying in past interviews that she was suicidal as a child and that being believed and supported by her parents was crucial to her survival. In a 2022 video conversation, she recalled becoming a “joke” on German TV after early documentary appearances and said that the experience made her retreat into her room and focus on music as an escape.

Regret, pride, and blurred boundaries

Petras’s choice of the word “regret” in her latest remarks has drawn attention because she has often expressed pride in her transition and in advocating for access to care, even while criticizing how media framed her story. In the new coverage, she stresses that she still believes she made “the right choices” about her transition and remains proud of them “to this day,” underscoring that her misgivings are about exposure and privacy rather than about being transgender or accessing gender-affirming care.

PinkNews reports that Petras describes a tension between her desire to help other transgender people by sharing her story and the way media attention turned her into a symbol or target at a very young age. She has said in earlier interviews that as a teenager she participated in multiple documentaries because she “wanted to help people” and believed she had a responsibility to be a visible example for others without supportive families.

At the same time, Petras has described how that visibility could feel like a loss of control, noting that headlines often reduced her to her transition and that some doctors and commentators scrutinized her body rather than her wellbeing. In the FADER interview, she connects those early experiences to a broader worry about how much of herself to share now, saying she still wrestles with how to talk about being transgender in interviews without having it overshadow her work or alienate parts of the transgender community.

“A weird climate… especially about trans kids”

Petras’s reflections are also explicitly tied to current debates about transgender youth, particularly in the United States, where she now lives and works. PinkNews notes that she told The FADER that “now that in America, there’s so much shame around sex” and that sexual education is treated as taboo, which she contrasted with her childhood straightforwardness about her transition.

She described the current atmosphere as a “weird climate right now especially about trans kids in particular,” adding that “they’re the enemy right now,” a phrase she used to capture how transgender children and adolescents have become focal points in political and media conflicts. While the interview does not delve into specific legislation, multiple U.S. states in recent years have proposed or enacted restrictions on access to gender-affirming care for minors, a backdrop that informs the resonance of her comments.

By revisiting her own early experiences in the public eye, Petras pointed to questions about how much pressure is placed on transgender children to explain themselves and to serve as spokespersons, particularly when political rhetoric frames them as a problem to be solved rather than as young people entitled to privacy and care. Her comments highlight that, for some transgender adults, looking back on childhood media exposure can involve complicated feelings—gratitude for the support that made transition possible, pride in surviving and thriving, and discomfort about how much of their story became public property before they were fully able to consent.

From early advocate to Grammy winner

Beyond the current discussion, Petras has become one of the most prominent transgender pop artists in the world, achieving mainstream recognition with the 2022 single “Unholy,” a collaboration with Sam Smith that later won a Grammy for Best Pop Duo/Group Performance. In her Grammy acceptance speech, she thanked her mother for believing her when, as a child, she told her family she was a girl, emphasizing that this support helped keep her alive.

Throughout her career, Petras has alternated between foregrounding and downplaying her trans identity in her public persona, noting in a 2020 interview that she initially tried not to talk about it in order to avoid having her artistry reduced to her gender. She has said she later re-evaluated that approach after hearing from LGBTQ+ fans who felt let down by the lack of explicit acknowledgment, describing the balance between visibility and privacy as “a very hard” one.

In music interviews over the past few years, Petras has explained that she wants her songs to offer escape and joy, especially for young LGBTQ+ listeners who may be dealing with bullying or family rejection, mirroring the way pop music helped her when she felt isolated at school. The decision to address her trans identity more directly on *Detour* appears to be part of this evolving relationship with her own story, as she experiments with ways to be honest about her past without re-opening the harms of earlier media scrutiny.

What her comments mean for debates on youth visibility

Petras’s remarks do not directly prescribe policy or speak for all transgender people, but they highlight several themes that recur in discussions about young people’s rights and representation. First, her distinction between regretting blurred privacy and affirming the correctness of her transition underscores that regret about exposure is different from regret about being transgender or accessing care.

Second, her memories of being turned into a symbol or spectacle as a teen resonate with concerns raised by advocates who caution that media and political narratives can instrumentalize transgender children, either to advance restrictive agendas or to seek inspirational stories, without fully centering their safety and autonomy. Third, her characterization of the U.S. climate as one where trans kids are treated as “the enemy” reflects worries among LGBTQ+ organizations about the impact of hostile rhetoric on young people’s mental health and willingness to seek support.

As discussion of her FADER interview circulates, Petras’s story offers a high-profile example of how a transgender child’s early decision—or opportunity—to speak publicly can shape the rest of their life, in both empowering and painful ways. Her reflections invite ongoing questions for families, journalists, and policymakers about how to ensure that transgender children who choose visibility can do so with informed consent, robust support, and the option to reclaim privacy as they grow up.

Melanie C said it “was assumed or suggested that I was gay,” making clear she did not personally mind people thinking she might be queer, but she objected to how those conclusions were based entirely on appearance and clothing. She described it as “a bit s—” that commentators and sections of the media felt able to label her sexuality without knowing her, adding that who someone dates is “none of their friggin’ business.”

A history of speculation and stereotyping

Melanie C’s latest remarks sit within a much longer history of public and tabloid speculation about her sexuality dating back to the late 1990s, when short hair, tattoos and a muscular build led some outlets to insist she must be a lesbian. In earlier interviews from that period, she expressed anger that such coverage both stereotyped lesbians and branded her a liar when she said she was straight, arguing that journalists were projecting a narrow idea of how lesbian and bisexual women “should” look.

Over time, Melanie C has reflected on how that scrutiny affected her while also acknowledging that it helped deepen her connection with LGBTQ+ communities. In a 2022 interview promoting her memoir The Sporty One: My Life as a Spice Girl, she said she had come to “love” that people once assumed she was a lesbian because it gave her “an affinity with the gay community,” even though she had previously felt frustrated by being forced to constantly rebut claims about her orientation.

From ‘accusations’ to changing culture

In recent years, Melanie C has described how the tone around sexuality speculation has shifted, especially compared with how tabloids treated rumours in the late 1990s and early 2000s. She has said that coverage of her during the height of the Spice Girls framed being gay almost like an “accusation,” whereas similar gossip today is often less overtly hostile, reflecting broader cultural changes around LGBTQ+ acceptance in mainstream entertainment.

Nonetheless, she continues to call out the idea that spectators are entitled to demand labels from public figures or to speculate aggressively about their identity. In a 2021 interview, Melanie C criticised what she described as dehumanising lines of questioning about her sexuality and relationship status, arguing that “whoever you want to sleep with is nobody’s business apart from your own and the person you want to sleep with,” a stance that aligns with her more recent comments about privacy on Mitch Churi’s show.

Allyship, Pride stages and trans-inclusive advocacy

Alongside clarifying her own sexuality, Melanie C has repeatedly emphasised her role as an ally, particularly to LGBTQ+ fans who grew up with the Spice Girls and to transgender and non-binary people facing discrimination. She has performed at multiple Pride events worldwide, including WorldPride in New York and celebrations in São Paulo, often appearing with British queer performance collective Sink The Pink and explicitly dedicating her sets to trans and non-binary communities.

In a 2019 interview, she said that touring with Sink The Pink had opened her eyes to the scale of transphobia, including hate crimes and systemic barriers, especially in the UK. She spoke about learning from transgender performers and community members, stressing that people must be able to live as who they truly are rather than being forced into “miserable” or secret lives, and she has carried that message into later Pride appearances and interviews.

The Spice Girls’ LGBTQ+ legacy

Melanie C has also regularly linked her personal journey with sexuality rumours to the broader LGBTQ+ following that the Spice Girls developed from the mid‑1990s onward. She has said that although the group’s original “Girl Power” slogan focused on girls and young women, the band quickly realised they were also resonating with gay men, lesbians and other queer fans, many of whom had not yet come out and found something affirming in the group’s message of inclusivity and self‑expression.

In interviews, she has described how the Spice Girls moved from talking solely about girl power to promoting a more general ethos of acceptance, saying that the group never took its LGBTQ+ fanbase for granted and always tried to be visibly welcoming. That legacy continues to influence how Melanie C approaches questions about her own identity, as she balances correcting misconceptions with a clear message that no one should be shamed or stereotyped for being gay, bi, trans, non-binary or queer.

Challenging the ‘look’ of sexuality

At the heart of Melanie C’s recent clarification is a wider critique of the way popular culture still associates certain styles of dress, body types or gender expressions with particular sexual orientations. Her experience shows how women and non-binary people who present in an athletic, androgynous or “tomboyish” way are often labelled by others, sometimes even when they have not discussed their sexuality publicly or are still working it out for themselves.

By drawing attention to how unfair it felt to be defined by clothing and haircuts, Melanie C has amplified a message that many LGBTQ+ advocates have long stressed: that there is no single way to “look” lesbian, bisexual, queer or straight. Her insistence that assumptions about sexuality are both intrusive and outdated sits alongside an ongoing commitment to LGBTQ+ rights, visible in her performances at Pride events, collaborations with queer artists and outspoken support for transgender people’s safety and dignity.