I’ve been openly gay in disc golf spaces since I started playing in 2016. Brendan comes to tournaments sometimes \u2014 he’s my husband, he throws forehand-only like a maniac \u2014 and we’re not subtle about being married. Rainbow mini in my bag. Casual mentions in conversation. Just existing as a gay couple at disc golf events, which shouldn’t be remarkable but sometimes is.
My experience has been mostly positive. Oregon in general, Portland specifically, is a pretty welcoming place. The local scene here doesn’t bat an eye. But I’ve also been to tournaments in other areas where I felt less comfortable, where I instinctively toned things down, where I wondered if I was reading a vibe correctly or just being paranoid.
So here’s an honest article about being LGBTQ+ in disc golf. The good parts, the complicated parts, and the resources that exist if you’re looking for community.
The State of Things
Disc golf is growing fast and the culture is evolving with it. Five years ago there was almost no visible queer presence in the sport. Now there are LGBTQ+ specific groups, Pride events, open discussions about inclusion. Progress is happening.
But it’s also a sport that skews male, skews towards certain demographics, attracts some people who hold views I disagree with. Not everyone, not even most people, but some. You might end up on a card with someone whose politics are obvious from their disc stamps. You might overhear comments that make you cringe. The sport reflects society, and society is mixed.
I’m not trying to scare anyone away. Most disc golfers I’ve met are chill, welcoming, don’t care about anything except whether you’re slowing down play. But I’d be lying if I said the sport was uniformly safe and affirming everywhere. It depends on location, specific community, individual people.
Organizations Doing the Work
There are groups specifically focused on LGBTQ+ inclusion in disc golf. They’re worth knowing about.
Queer Disc Golf (queerdiscgolf.com) is a community initiative connecting LGBTQ+ players. They organize events, maintain social media presence, and help people find each other in their local areas. Good resource if you’re looking for community.
Throw Proud (throwproud.com) does outreach and advocacy work. They focus on making disc golf more welcoming, partnering with clubs and TDs to create inclusive environments. If you want to get involved in the advocacy side, they’re doing good stuff.
UDisc has done Pride coverage (check their blog under stories/pride) highlighting LGBTQ+ events and community stories. Mainstream visibility from a major platform helps.
These organizations didn’t exist when I started playing. The fact that they exist now means something. The sport is becoming more intentional about inclusion.
Finding Your People
If you’re LGBTQ+ and starting disc golf, here’s my advice:
Check Facebook groups for your local area. Not just general disc golf groups \u2014 look for progressive or queer-friendly subgroups if they exist. Some cities have specific LGBTQ+ disc golf communities. Ask around.
Follow the organizations I mentioned. Their social channels connect you to other queer players. You might find people near you who can point you to welcoming courses, leagues, and events.
Trust your instincts about spaces. If a league feels off, find a different one. If certain players give you bad vibes, you don’t have to card with them. You’re allowed to prioritize your comfort.
Bring allies. When Brendan plays with me, I feel more confident just by not being alone. Having someone who has your back changes the dynamic even if nothing happens.
The Casual Visibility Thing
I go back and forth on how visible to be. Some days I’m wearing a pride shirt and it’s whatever. Some days I’m at a tournament in an unfamiliar area and I notice I’m downplaying things, not mentioning Brendan as much, being more cautious.
Both approaches are valid. You don’t owe anyone education or visibility. Your safety and comfort come first. Being out and loud is a choice, not an obligation.
At the same time \u2014 visibility matters. When I’m openly gay at events, maybe some kid sees that and feels less alone. Maybe some other queer person in the crowd thinks “oh, there’s someone like me here.” That’s not nothing. Representation has ripple effects.
I try to be visible when I can, careful when I need to be. It’s a navigation, not a fixed strategy.
The Women’s Division Conversation
This is complicated and I’m going to acknowledge it without diving too deep because I’m a cis guy and it’s not my lane.
There have been discussions about transgender athletes in disc golf, particularly regarding the women’s division. The PDGA has policies. People have opinions. It’s been contentious at times.
What I’ll say: trans women are women. The disc golf community should be welcoming to all players. How competitive policies should work is a complicated question that people smarter than me are working through. But the basic dignity and inclusion of trans people in disc golf spaces shouldn’t be controversial.
If you’re trans and navigating disc golf \u2014 I see you, you belong here, and I hope you find communities that affirm that.
Calling Things Out (Or Not)
What do you do when you hear something homophobic or transphobic on the course? I don’t have a perfect answer.
Sometimes I say something. A calm “hey, not cool” or a direct push-back. It depends on the situation, who said it, what exactly was said, whether I feel safe escalating.
Sometimes I don’t say anything because I’m tired, or I don’t think it’ll help, or I just want to finish my round without drama. That’s allowed too. You’re not obligated to be an educator or activist in every moment.
What I try to avoid is pretending I didn’t hear it. The fake laugh, the going along. That feels worse than silence.
The Positive Side
I’ve painted a mixed picture, which is accurate, but I want to be clear: most of my disc golf experiences have been great.
I have straight friends I’ve made through the sport who are genuine allies. Card-mates who’ve met Brendan and treated us like any other couple. TDs who’ve made events explicitly welcoming. The majority of people are decent.
Portland specifically has been wonderful. The local scene here is diverse and progressive and nobody blinks at the gay couple on card 7. That’s the norm, not the exception.
I think the sport is getting better over time. More visibility, more organization, more intentional inclusion. It’s not perfect but the trajectory is positive.
If You’re an Ally
Some concrete things:
Don’t assume everyone is straight. Avoid gendered assumptions in casual conversation. “Do you have a wife/girlfriend?” becomes “Are you with anyone?”
Speak up when you hear something off. You don’t have to make a scene \u2014 a simple “that’s not cool” does work. Queer players notice who says something and who doesn’t.
Support the organizations doing inclusion work. Follow them, donate if you can, attend events they organize.
Don’t make it a big deal. “Oh you’re gay? That’s totally fine, I love gay people!” is weird. Just… treat us normal. That’s the bar.
Anyway
Being queer in disc golf has been mostly good for me. I’ve found community, made friends, had my relationship casually accepted by the vast majority of people I’ve played with. The sport gave me something I needed during a rough period of my life and it didn’t ask me to hide who I am to get it.
If you’re LGBTQ+ and curious about disc golf \u2014 try it. Find the welcoming spaces (they exist). Connect with the communities I mentioned. Show up as yourself and see what happens.
And if your local scene isn’t great \u2014 maybe you can help make it better. Or maybe you just find your people elsewhere. Both are valid.
There’s room for all of us on the course. The sport is big enough.