Four community members tell us how they tackle travelling to places with hostile attitudes
FOURSIGHT
Jack Watson (he/him) Works in PR
I’m very lucky that I haven’t been on the receiving end of a huge amount of danger abroad, but I do catch myself running a greater amount of internal risk assessments when I’m in other countries. I was fairly late to the party in coming out, and it was only in my early to mid-twenties that I was fully comfortable in being as expressive as I wanted to be — however, the clock is turned back when I go abroad.
It’s basic things that make me feel uncomfortable. When packing for a trip to Hungary, a country that has had a bit of a thing for introducing discriminatory laws at pace over the past few years, my expressive and colourful items remained in the closet. This saddens me.
It’s ironic that the first time I said the words “I am gay” to someone was when I was in Indonesia, a country with a mixed record on LGBTQ+ rights and attitudes. Now, I might think twice about returning, as I’ve learnt that I have to look into a country’s attitudes and laws before planning a trip — rather than being able to stick a pin in a map and go anywhere like everyone else does.
Imy Brighty-Potts (she/her) Lifestyle journalist and copywriter
Last year, I travelled to rural Latvia for a work trip. Luckily, I am straight-passing, but I feminise myself when I travel to be safe. Soviet Russia may be gone, but anti-LGBTQ+ sentiment still courses through Latvia — it leaves you with a rumbling worry. We were about 50 miles from the Latvia-Russia border, and it was only two months after the war in Ukraine broke out. As stories of husbands, families and day-to-day life unfolded over some wine, I trod carefully. As a lesbian, I use ‘partner’ because it can be changed to boyfriend or husband so easily — it is second nature to say it now, to check you are safe. While same-sex activity is not criminal, marriage and adoption are out of the question for Latvian queers. There is next to no gay scene — even in Riga, the capital.
It is hard to have to quieten yourself when you can be loudly yourself at home, and knowing that just holding my girlfriend’s hand somewhere else in the world could put us in danger is devastating. There is so much that I want to see. I don’t want to do it being half of myself.
Melissa Tilling (she/her) Chief executive officer at Charitable Travel
I have never felt threatened when travelling, beyo
