A queer person travels

By coming out as non-binary, discovering my queer side and dressing in whatever way gives me a dopamine hit, I’ve added to the complexity of going outside. The human world is already complex enough as an autistic person, but adding being a bearded skirt wearer to it, and I’m playing life on hard mode. At home, it’s hard enough, but what about a foreign country where I don’t know what is safe for me?

In 2022, my wife and I travelled around Europe. While in Croatia, I felt very seen, and not in a “You go girl!” empowering way. I felt seen, and it was an oppressive stare that made me hide who I was. That oppressive stare felt at odds with a country known for its naturist beaches and support of FKK, Freikörperkultur or Free Body Culture. How can a society be fine with bobbly beach bits but baulk at bearded “blokes” in skirts?

For our 2024, I only took one skirt that I wore in Paris and planned to wear in Berlin. For the rest of the trip, I would wear trousers and shirts, but from the women’s department because you’ve got to fight the power in ways you can. I needed to feel safe, but still a bit me. There was no nail polish, beard colouring, eyeliner, or lipstick to be seen. I was a masculine-themed non-binary person or a middle-aged man trying to pull off a pink shirt.

That’s how we travelled. Safety first. For the most part, it was fine. Paris was a little weird and distressing in a skirt, but once the skirt was away, I felt OK. I didn’t feel like I was missing out too much. It was weird not having any colourful nails. That was my first step into a much larger world. While on the beach, I wanted to be silly and wear a thong. Plenty of women were, what difference would it make if my bum was in one? Surely, if a woman can go topless at the beach, I can wear a thong.

There’s a strong chance I’m overthinking (me?), and I could have happily worn a thong, nail polish, lipstick and skirts without issue. You only live once. Out and proud! It’s easy to stay strong in your beliefs when surrounded by like-minded people. Try standing alone and telling a country they’re wrong. Unfortunately, I don’t have that strength. While I might be overthinking the issue, I saw little to convince me that where I was was safe.

There were moments, however. On the island of Hvar in Croatia, we sat in a cafe that had a Progress Pride flag up by the till. I thanked the owner, and they said it was rare to see but important to be seen. That was the first rainbow flag I had seen in Croatia. Admittedly, we were only skimming along the coast, but still, it wasn’t like back home in Liverpool where there is a “You are safe here” scheme to make the LGBTQ+ community feel safe in the city.

Another moment was in Split, where I saw two gay men openly dance together and kiss in a public square outside a bar at night. I feared for their safety, but thankfully, no one seemed to take issue with them. It was lovely to see.

Berlin was different. We visited a lovely little queer store called Keller Kreuzberg. My wife bought me a they/them choker from them for my birthday. I asked the person working there whether it would be safe for me to wear a skirt in Berlin. They believed so and said I really should if it was my birthday. Unfortunately, I did not have the confidence to do so, opting for blue trousers and a pink shirt but with makeup and nail polish. In Schöneberg, we found rainbow flags hanging from balconies, cafes serving rainbow cake and a wonderful, safe atmosphere. At one point, a man walked past me and gave me a very pleasant eyebrow raise of surprise. It was a sort of “Oh, I definitely see you. Yes!” While I was processing what just happened, he looked back to check me out once more. He was checking me out, not doing the usual shaking head in disbelief “What is the world coming to?” action most men in the UK do. Now, I’m a happily married person not interested in men, but I took the compliment for what it was.

Brussels surprised me. We were only there one night, but as we walked through the city centre, we saw many LGBTQ+ venues. This wasn’t something I recalled seeing in Bruges, so it surprised me. After poking around the internet, I found Belgium is a very forward-thinking country. Safe enough to wear a skirt in? I can't say as I wasn't that brave.

What’s interesting about our trip is that a report came out last year listing the top Trans friendly countries in the world.

1. Belgium
2. Croatia
3. France
4. United Kingdom
5. Germany

Now, this is just for rights not for how safe it is to walk the streets but it is certainly interesting. I would not have put Croatia up there given my experiences.

What this all means to me is that you cannot be what you cannot see. You can’t be safely out if you don’t see others being safe when they’re out. If you walk around a new place and see a clear sign, like rainbow pride flags, rainbow park benches or everyday rainbow street furniture, then it makes you feel safe. You see the support from the local government and the city. If you don’t see this, if instead, all you see is burly white men wearing gold chains, smoking and glaring at you in disgust on every street corner, then you do not feel safe. Your fear runs wild, and you use the internet for confirmation bias. The result is that it’s more fuel for anxiety to feed on, and you never fully relax into the trip. I felt like I found a balance on this trip that let me move through Europe safely, but that anxious “What if?” voice in my head stopped me from being me when I should have just lived.