Every Pride Month, companies share posts about inclusion, celebrate LGBTQI icons, and declare their commitment to diversity. As a gay professional who’s spent years navigating job applications, interviews, and office cultures, I can tell you: what matters isn’t what employers say during Pride—it’s what they actually do before, during, and after the hiring process.
Too many organisations still treat inclusion as something that happens once someone is already through the door. But by that point, it might already be too late. Because for those of us in the LGBTQI community, especially if we’re gay and visibly so, or if we’re out on our CVs or in our social circles, hiring is often the first real test of whether a company lives up to its values.
So, what does inclusive hiring really look like—not just during Pride, but all year?
It starts before the job is even advertised. Language matters. Job descriptions that use gender-neutral terms, avoid masculine-coded phrases like “rockstar” or “dominant,” and explicitly state a company’s commitment to inclusion already make a difference. When I see a job posting that mentions LGBTQI inclusion clearly, I pause—and consider applying. When it’s missing entirely or buried in the small print, I notice that too.
Then there’s visibility. If a company wants to attract diverse candidates, they need to show diverse people already work there. That means showcasing real employees, not stock images. If your careers page features only white, straight, cisgender individuals, you’re sending a message—even if unintentionally. People like me ask ourselves: will I belong there? Will I thrive there? Will I be safe?
And safety is not a small concern. Being openly gay at work still carries risk. I’ve had colleagues in 2023 who were hesitant to mention their partners in interviews because they didn’t want to risk being judged before they even got the job. And I’ve experienced interviews where I debated whether to bring up my involvement in LGBTQI volunteering—wondering if it would work in my favour or silently count against me.
Interviewers need to understand that bias doesn’t always look like outright discrimination. It often shows up in small, subjective decisions: “not quite the right fit,” “something didn’t click,” “they seemed uncomfortable.” Those judgements, if not checked, can exclude qualified candidates from underrepresented backgrounds without anyone realising why. That’s why inclusive hiring must be intentional. It needs to be designed to remove assumptions—not just tick boxes.
Structured interviews help. So does blind shortlisting, where names and demographic details are removed from CVs. But beyond the process, inclusive hiring needs inclusive people. If your interview panel lacks diversity, if everyone making the hiring decision has the same background, your efforts will only go so far. Representation matters—at every stage of recruitment.
One thing I encourage employers to do is ask themselves: who gets to sit at the table when decisions are made? Are there openly LGBTQI people involved in shaping hiring policy? Are hiring managers trained in inclusive practices? Do they know how to talk about difference respectfully—and with curiosity, not awkwardness?
Because awkwardness is another common barrier. I’ve had interviews where the moment my sexuality came up—through a mention of Pride volunteering or an LGBTQI mentoring scheme—the tone shifted. Not in a hostile way, but in a “we don’t quite know how to respond” kind of way. It was clear the interviewer hadn’t expected it, didn’t know how to follow up, and quickly moved the conversation elsewhere.
That moment, for many of us, is when a decision is made—not just by the employer, but by the candidate. Do I want to work here? Do I want to have this feeling every day?
Creating a truly inclusive recruitment experience doesn’t mean asking people about their identities. It means creating a space where they feel comfortable bringing them in, if they choose to. That comes from building a culture where difference isn’t dodged—it’s welcomed.
And let’s not forget progression. Hiring someone from the LGBTQI community isn’t a success story in itself. It’s a starting point. Inclusive hiring means thinking long-term—asking whether your company will not only recruit diverse talent but retain it. That includes tracking who stays, who gets promoted, and who leaves. If you hire five openly gay employees but none of them feel able to stay more than a year, something is wrong—and it’s not just the hiring process.
Equally important is outreach. Don’t wait for candidates to come to you—go where they are. That might mean partnering with LGBTQI job platforms, attending queer-focused career fairs, or advertising roles in spaces where underrepresented communities are already active. Inclusion isn't passive—it requires effort, investment, and humility.
We’ve come a long way, no doubt. I’ve interviewed at companies in recent years where I’ve felt seen, respected, and encouraged. But I’ve also interviewed at ones where I felt like I had to choose between being fully myself or being the successful candidate. That’s not a choice anyone should have to make.
So as we move through Pride Month and beyond, here’s my challenge to employers: don’t just use the rainbow as a recruitment tool. Use your platform to show that inclusion is a permanent part of how you hire, not just a seasonal statement. And if you’re not there yet, that’s okay—own that. Say, “We’re working on it. We want to do better.” Honesty goes a long way.
Because inclusive hiring isn’t about perfection. It’s about progress. It’s about creating workplaces where people like me don’t just feel tolerated—we feel wanted. Where our identities aren’t a risk factor—they’re a recognised part of our value.
And where being gay isn’t something I weigh up nervously before an interview. It’s just part of who I am—another reason I bring something unique to the table.