This LVW, we’ve partnered with ILGA World to find out more about rainbow families around the globe
Happy Lesbian Visibility Week 2025. This year our theme is all about family. We’ve partnered up with ILGA World, a worldwide federation of more than 1,900 organisations from over 160 countries and territories campaigning for lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans and intersex human rights to find out what family means to activists all around the world.
This is what family looks like to Andrea from AFDA, an LGBTQIA organization from Argentina, led by lesbian and non-binary activists. AFDA works to empower diverse families and LGBTQIA communities through visibility, advocacy, activist networks, and community-based research, in our Argentia and on the international stage.
What does family mean to you?
Family, to me, is who saves you. It’s my son’s hand holding mine after a long day of work, with a big smile on his face. It’s that safe place I always want to return to – where I can be vulnerable and never judged, only loved, and where we take care of one another. It’s the life project we chose to build together, because it is our right to live it fully with those we love.
Tell us about a typical day in your family life:
My wife and I usually wake up to the sound of our cat meowing – she’s always the first to ask for breakfast, right on time at 7 AM. We have a deal: one of us gets up one day, and the other takes the next. By 7:30, we’re both up, making breakfast and waking our son. We all eat together – the cat included, of course, because she always insists on a second round.
After breakfast, my wife takes our son to school, and then we both dive into work. In the afternoon, I go to pick him up. Some days we go straight home so he can do homework or go to his math or language classes. Twice a week, he goes to art school instead.
One thing that’s always part of our day is “merienda” – an Argentine afternoon snack with croissants and mate, a warm drink we share no matter the season. After that, we like to do something fun and relaxing together. Sometimes our son draws, or we’ll play a playlist in English or Italian and try to sing along. We almost never hit the right notes, and our pronunciation is usually way off – but we laugh a lot, and that’s what matters.
Later in the evening, we each take a bit of personal time to unwind. Then it’s dinner time – I usually cook, and my son is my little sous-chef. We’ve found cooking together to be something that really helps us slow down and connect. After dinner, my wife takes care of the dishes and gets everything ready for bedtime.
How have things changed for LGBTQIA+ families over your lifetime?
Two moments really stand out in my mind.
The first was in my twenties. I had just come out to my best friend and shared one of my deepest fears: that I might never be able to get married or have a family. At the time, it felt completely out of reach. We were coming out of years of dictatorship and repression in Argentina, and the idea of marriage equality seemed like something from another world.
She tried to comfort me and said, “Don’t worry, maybe someday you’ll like men again.” And I remember thinking – what kind of response is that? The whole point was that I wanted to build a life and a family with a woman. That was the dream, and also what felt so impossible back then.
Fast forward twenty years, and there I was – a lesbian mom, living in a diverse, loving family. By that time, I was already an activist. When my son was just two years old, one of my worst fears came true: he was discriminated against because he had two moms. A swimming school for babies in Buenos Aires refused to enrol him once they found out about our family.
That moment changed everything for me. I co-founded Familias Diversas because I realized something essential: lesbian motherhood isn’t just about me – it’s part of who my son is, part of our family’s identity. I didn’t want to be tolerated – I wanted to be respected, seen, and valued as a lesbian mother. Shame and fear had to become a motor for change.
We had already fought – and won – legal rights like equal marriage. But the next step was social: inclusion in everyday life, in institutions, in the stories people tell about what a family looks like.
We’ve come a long way, but lately, I’ve been having flashbacks to darker times. Hate speech is creeping back in, and it’s being disguised as “freedom of expression.” But hate doesn’t bring freedom – it only brings more violence.
For those of us who lived through times without democracy, who saw the signs before military coups, it’s concerning. But we also know how to respond – with solidarity, with community, and with collective resistance rooted in love.
What are your hopes for the future for LGBTQIA+ families?
I want to see diverse families everywhere. I want to see them in schools, in the streets, in sports clubs, at work. I want to see them strong and visible, building community. I want to see them safe and protected.
And above all, I dream of a world where every parent and child can fully enjoy who they are, and live each of their rights with pride and freedom. Where at the end of the day, they come home knowing they are safe, respected, and loved, just as they are.
DIVA magazine celebrates 31 years in print in 2025. If you like what we do, then get behind LGBTQIA media and keep us going for another generation. Your support is invaluable.
