Trans Pride at Contours
As Pride month continues, our director here at Contours weighs in with why Pride is important this year more than ever.
Trans Pride at Contours
https://www.contours.co.uk/trans-pride-at-contours
My name is Alex, and I’m a Director at Contours Holidays, a position I took up a year and a half ago.
I’ve been working here for 12 years, since I finished up university and took a job researching accommodation and writing directions for our customers.
During that time I’ve learned everything there is to know about the business’s operations, coordinated the redevelopment of our website back in 2017, helped steer the ship through the unbelievably rocky waters of 2020 and all it entailed, and since 2021, transitioned from a man to a woman (with a spell in the middle as a nonbinary person while I figured a few things out).
Tricky thing to know how to say, that last one, but now’s the time of year to say it, I’m told. Happy Pride!
My colleague Finn has written a lovely blog about his experiences as a gay man in the UK, conveying some of the reasons we still need Pride. It’s a protest against bigotry and injustice, and a signal to others that everyone can live openly, safely and happily — that it’s worth clearing the hurdles that can be involved in coming out and living authentically.
For my part, I’m a happier, more complete person than I ever was pre-transition. I feel more comfortable expressing the care and sensitivity that has always been bubbling in my gut, and I’m much less frequently plagued by the inexplicably painful feelings I used to get when I caught sight of myself in the mirror. The queer community I’ve joined has brought me a sense of joy, acceptance and safety, when it felt before like this part of myself could only be met with revulsion.
I’m utterly blessed that my transition hasn’t interfered with my work; I cannot possibly overstate how grateful I am to our managing director Karen for her support, and to our staff for their understanding. Our suppliers, too, have been lovely. I’ve enjoyed a wonderful walk on our Wye Valley Short Break this year and every host I met was warm and welcoming.
So at almost every juncture, while I’m sometimes met with confusion and a funny look at the shops, the real people in my life have been kind and patient even if they don’t truly understand what I am or why. In truth I don’t need anyone outside of my closest inner circle to really understand. This stuff is deeply personal; if you can put up with me enough to treat me with dignity, that’s enough!
It’s with huge pain, then, that I have to say that things are not so great on the legal side of things, and this Pride Month I’m living with a strong sense that I’ve got to advocate for myself.
Things look fine, don’t they? It’s not illegal to be trans, I’m publicly out and working in a rewarding senior role at a company I care about, so what’s there to complain about?
Right now, I’m lucky enough to have access to private healthcare that’s enabled me to transition on my own terms for roughly £125 a month. That’s the fee I pay just to get on with life.
I’m in a years-long queue for an NHS specialist to sit down with me, ask me a spread of invasive questions, and decide — if I’m lucky — that I’m transgender enough to receive hormone therapy on the NHS. Then that £125 a month will drop to the regular cost of an NHS prescription. Many of my trans peers simply don’t have that money spare and spend their years on the NHS waiting list at a hugely elevated risk of the most serious mental health disorders.
The whole idea of a diagnosis feels pretty silly when I’m already well into my transition. Yes, doctor, I do think I might be a woman — I’ve been working on it for five years without you!
Recently released EHRC guidance, which aims to turn the Supreme Court ruling from 2025 into legal advice for businesses across the UK, has functionally eliminated the legal recognition which was put into place for transgender people in 2004.
Until last year, a Gender Recognition Certificate allowed anyone to change their legal gender with the consent of two doctors, by providing evidence of two years living as their acquired gender. The Supreme Court ruling asserts that the relevant legislation doesn’t mean sex, which strips out every legal consequence of that recognition.
I don’t have the space here to share the reasons I think this ruling is wrong — morally, scientifically and legally. All that I wish to say here is this: in 2026, while transgender people are more visible, better-recognised socially, and more likely to be featured in art and media, the legal landscape for us in the UK is markedly more restrictive than it was in 2004.
If you feel that we’re a new development in the last few years which is threatening women’s safety, consider: you’ve been living with the trans-inclusive version of this law for two decades. Outside of what you might’ve read in the papers, did you even notice?
To my trans siblings out there who might be considering a walking tour: I want you to know that it is possible to enjoy the great outdoors through a tour like ours.
I can’t guarantee your trip will be totally without friction, but if anything does go wrong, our team will be ready and waiting to jump in and fight your corner; and I am personally keen to get involved and make sure you’re well taken care of, should a little directorial clout be required.
Please ask after me by name, and have confidence that we’ll treat you with the utmost care if you trust us with extra information about your gender identity so we can help keep you safe.
Happy Pride!

Director
Reclusive coffee & spreadsheet enthusiast. Too self-aware for her own good.