How Big Sky OUT demonstrates love for oneself and others
Editor’s note: This article includes references to mental health challenges and mentions of suicide.
By Shannon Steele GUEST COLUMNIST
There are moments—quiet and shattering—when we realize the love we were taught isn’t the love we need. For me, that realization unfolded slowly, and in unexpected waves—through loving fully and feeling heartbreak, clinging and letting go, questioning and feeling lost. As I began to shed rigid ideas of love and connection, I longed to rebuild something more honest—more mine.
It’s a tender, disorienting process—throwing out the old map without having one to replace it. But in the messy middle, I found something hopeful: a sense of expansiveness. A sense that love and connection can be chosen, shaped and lived in ways that feel more authentic, more nourishing and more me. And this is not just about romantic love or partnership, but how I love myself, my friends, family and others in my life.
During this season of my life—and this month, as we celebrate Pride in Big Sky—I’m reflecting on what it means to love your own way. To belong without shrinking. To live in your authenticity even when the world tells you not to. I sat down with Brit Diersch, founder of Big Sky OUT, a nonprofit making space for that very thing.
Big Sky OUT: a movement rooted in belonging
What began as a small Pride march in 2023—planned in five days and attended by over 100 people—has grown into a vital nonprofit.
“People don’t stay in places where they don’t have community,” Diersch said. When the nonprofit’s first co-organizers moved away, they stayed, committed to creating a reason for others to stay, too.
Big Sky OUT became a nonprofit just months later, and today it offers everything from art nights and hikes to drag shows and dance parties. More than events, it offers a place where people can show up exactly as they are. “I wouldn’t stay here if I didn’t have queer community,” Diersch said. “We’re filling a gap. We’re tending to a need that benefits more than just LGBTQIA+ folks. We’re building community, and our town needs that.”
When we spoke about mental health, Diersch shared a simple truth: humans need connection. “If you’re not experiencing connection,” they said, “it’s really hard to maintain a well state of mind.”
This is backed by Bozeman Health’s 2023 Community Health Needs Assessment, where nearly half (45.9%) of Big Sky respondents identified mental health as the most serious health concern. Nationally, LGBTQIA+ individuals report significantly higher rates of loneliness. One study found that 33% of LGBTQIA+ adults feel lonely “often or always”—more than double the rate of non-LGBTQIA+ adults. Among LGBTQIA+ youth, 41% have seriously considered suicide in the past year, according to The Trevor Project.
That’s why “third spaces”—gathering spots outside work and home—matter. Research shows they reduce stress and foster belonging. Big Sky OUT creates these kinds of spaces. Some events are vibrant; others are quiet and grounding.
“A big way I find connection with people is through parallel play,” Diersch said. “Just working on projects next to each other, without the pressure to speak.” Sometimes just being around others is enough to feel a little more human.
This year’s Summer Pride Week from June 11 to 15 includes a dog meet-up, waterfall hike, drag story hour, circus performers, roller derby, an outdoor movie and a festival. These events are joyful—and radical acts of visibility. “The reason we promote inclusivity is because not everyone feels included or safe,” Diersch explained. “We want people to feel welcomed. We want kids to see themselves.”
Pride Week is a celebration—and a reminder that queer joy is powerful, necessary, and still, in many places, revolutionary.
Love as discovery
Toward the end of our conversation, we turned to love: what it means, how it evolves, and what it can become.
“I wasn’t shown necessarily how to love,” Diersch said, “but how not to love. And in that, I learned what I want from love.”
Same. I don’t have a perfect definition of what love is anymore, but I know it must be rooted in honesty, discovery and becoming. Love is an unfolding practice—learning how others want to be loved and asking for what you need in return. “There’s no right or wrong way,” they said. “It’s about being curious.”
Letting go of inherited beliefs—about identity, love, or worth—can feel like being cracked open. Diersch offered a beautiful perspective: “It’s a sign of change. It means you’re evolving.”
They continued, “Every time you come back to yourself, you’re building a bond that no one else can build for you.”
I’ve come to believe that returning to yourself, again and again, is one of the deepest forms of love there is. Even when it’s confusing and you don’t know the way.Pride is more than just the month of June.
“Queer people are queer all year round,” Diersch said with a smile. For them, queerness is more than sexuality—it’s about identity, lifestyle, and belonging. “Being queer is being different. When so much feels against you, it’s important to have these connection points.”
Diersch shared what helps them through moments of uncertainty: “Surrounding myself with people, content, books and exposure to things on TV or the internet—things or people that I admire or look up to. When you’re struggling, there’s not always a quick word that is going to define or fix it.”
They also highlighted local and regional resources like Oh Hi Collective, Trans Closet, Bridgercare, Queer Bozeman, and Pride House—a queer youth after-school program in Bozeman, with plans to expand to Big Sky next year.
These spaces are more than programs. They are reminders that healing begins when we are allowed to be fully ourselves, and when we see others doing the same.
Love doesn’t have to follow the script we were handed. It can be messy. Brave. It can be something we’re still figuring out.
As I continue to unlearn and rebuild what love means to me, I find comfort in knowing I’m not alone—that others, like Brit Diersch and the community at Big Sky OUT, are doing that same courageous work. Making space. Asking questions. Choosing to show up. Returning to themselves again and again.
You can love your own way. And in doing so, you might just help create a world where others can too.
Shannon Steele has called Big Sky home for the past seven years. She runs her own collaborative social experiment of a business, focused on community organizing, innovative problem-solving, and doing things a little differently. She’s also the contracted director (and one of many co-creators) of Be Well Big Sky, a grassroots effort embedding care in-community. Shannon finds grounding and play in the outdoors—usually with her griffon, Greta, and endless inspiration in nature’s lessons on regeneration, joy and resilience. She is also part of Big Sky’s search and rescue community.
