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As important as it is to have queer heroes and fearless advocates for the LGBTQ+ community, a group of people that are equally as important shouldn’t be overlooked – the allies. Call them unsung heroes if you will, but having non-queer friends, family members and colleagues fly the pride flag high alongside the community is a huge message that love is universal.
In fact, in Singapore, many straight allies and nuclear families head down to Hong Lim Park every June to stand alongside the LGBTQ+ in showing solidarity and support for their rights. And for that, we salute these friends. But being an ally in Singapore isn’t always easy. The topic of sexuality and gender identity can still feel “taboo” in certain spaces, and many allies find themselves walking the fine line between advocacy and respect for differing opinions. Yet, it’s precisely in this delicate space that allyship becomes powerful — a mix of courage, empathy, and active learning.
We spoke to three Singaporeans — all allies of the LGBTQ+ community — about what allyship means to them, how they practice it in their daily lives, and why it continues to matter deeply in a country still finding its footing on inclusivity.
“It’s Not About Me. It’s About Making Space For Others”
For Amelia, a 29-year-old HR professional, her journey as an ally began in university when her close friend came out as bisexual.
“At the time, I didn’t really know much about the LGBTQ+ community,” she admits. “I just knew my friend was hurting because she didn’t feel accepted at home. That was the first time I realised how much privilege I had — to be able to live openly without fear of rejection. Rejection never crossed my mind in regards to being myself”
Today, Amelia’s allyship takes shape in the workplace. As a HR executive in a media company, she helps organise inclusivity workshops and pushes for more diverse hiring policies within her company. But she’s quick to clarify that allyship isn’t about being a “hero” or “spokesperson.”
“It’s not about centering myself in the conversation,” Amelia says. “It’s about making sure people feel safe, seen, and respected, whether that means speaking up when someone makes a homophobic joke or advocating for inclusive benefits in HR discussions.” One thing in her agenda is to get her company to start celebrating Pride Month.
Still, being an ally in corporate Singapore comes with its own set of challenges. “Sometimes the “less woke” people shun me off when I bring up topics like pronouns or inclusive bathrooms,” she says. “But I try to educate them as much as I can lah”.
For Amelia, the key is consistency. “It’s not performative. It’s not just during Pride Month. It’s showing up for my friends, all year round.”
– Amelia Wong, 29
You Don’t Have To Know Everything To Be An Ally”
When Ryan, 34, first started teaching secondary school English, he was caught off guard by how early students began discussing topics like gender identity and sexuality.
“One day, a student asked me if it was okay that they didn’t feel like a ‘boy or girl’. I froze,” he laughs. “It wasn’t something we were trained to handle as teachers.”
That moment pushed him to start learning more — reading articles, attending talks, and listening to LGBTQ+ voices online. “I realised I didn’t need to have all the answers,” he says. “What mattered was that I listened without judgement.”
Ryan describes allyship as a journey of unlearning and humility. “I have a cousin who is openly gay. So I learnt a lot from him. To be honest, you’ll make mistakes in the learning process — maybe use the wrong term, or say something unintentionally insensitive. The important part is to keep learning and apologising when needed.”
“Some people think allyship means being loud or political, but honestly, it can just mean being kind,” Ryan shares. “When students see that you care and respect them for who they are, that can make all the difference.”
Over the years, he’s found subtle but powerful ways to show support, such as using famous queer movies and celebrities as examples in his teachings, ensuring classroom discussions stay respectful, and being someone students can talk to without fear.
“I think that’s where change really begins — not in grand gestures, but in quiet conversations where people feel safe enough to be themselves.”
“Allyship Means Having Tough Conversations — Especially With People You Love”
Sharifah, 41, remembers the first time she defended her lesbian colleague at a family dinner.
“My conservative uncle made a snide remark about how ‘the world is getting too liberal and “problematic”’, and I just couldn’t let it slide,” she recalls. “I told him that being queer isn’t a trend, it’s someone’s life.”
The room went silent. “It was awkward,” she laughs, “but necessary.”
For Sharifah, allyship starts at home. “It’s easy to post about inclusion online, but much harder to confront prejudice when it comes from your own family or friends.” With very traditional and religious parents and relatives, she says that it’s an uphill battle in educating the older folks.
Her experience in community work has also shown her how intersectionality plays a role. “As a Muslim woman, I’ve met people who assume faith and allyship can’t co-exist,” she says. “But to me, they go hand in hand — compassion and respect are universal values.”
Sharifah believes that allyship in Singapore’s multicultural, multireligious context requires sensitivity and dialogue. “You can’t force people to change overnight,” she explains. “But you can plant seeds, by sharing and exemplifying empathy, patience, and honest conversations.”
“At the end of the day, we all can improve our understanding of others. Be kind – it’s as simple as this”.
These Allies Show Why Allyship Matters In Singapore
Even with growing visibility and progress, LGBTQ+ Singaporeans still face challenges — from housing inequality and workplace bias to social stigma and casual discrimination. Allies play a crucial role in bridging that gap, not by speaking for the community, but by standing with them.
Amelia, Ryan and Sharifah are the types of peers the LGBTQ+ community need to feel less alone. And we’re lucky if we find people who are just like them. Perhaps Sharifah puts it best, elaborating on how allyship is about continuity. “Singapore’s becoming more open, yes — but progress can’t be taken for granted. Each generation has to keep the conversation alive.”
True allyship doesn’t require grand gestures or perfect knowledge — just empathy, consistency, and the courage to show up when it matters most. At the heart of it, allyship is about being kind — and in Singapore’s evolving social landscape, that kindness can make a world of difference.
If you or someone you know is struggling with sexual identity or coming out, A Space Between provides a safe environment for support with queer-friendly counsellors. Besides being a resource for help or navigating the challenge of coming out, A Space Between also shares advice on therapy and LGBTQ+ issues through online blog articles, as well as holding community events.
