How to feel like yourself in an unsafe environment?

Guest writer Mel, a trans young person in our community, shares his thoughts and some tips that have helped him feel safer expressing himself. In his own words below, here's what he does to feel safer - we hope you'll enjoy reading his ideas and perhaps find them useful for yourself.

Unfortunately, it's not always possible in terms of safety to express your identity, get a haircut or buy any gender affirming clothes. Everyone wants to feel comfortable about themselves, but it's very important to stay safe while doing so. I would like to share some ideas for the queer folks to feel more like themselves in the unsafe environment.

Tip 1: Don't overthink it

Firstly, and probably most importantly, don't overthink it - quite often others don't notice or even ignore the little things that can give you a lot of comfort. They don't live the same life as you and might not even be aware of the things that are very obviously gay to you and other members of the community. While it is very important to make sure that there aren't any threats around you, it doesn't mean you have to live in fear. Being cautious can come without being too scared to make a deep breath in your own life. Assess the risks, but don't overthink it too much.

Tip 2: How do you think about yourself?

Secondly, change the way you think about yourself. If you're trans, it might be helpful to think of yourself as being your gender with some opposite features. So if you're a transmasc it might be helpful to think of yourself as of a feminine boy rather than concentrate on the features of yourself that could be more masculine than they are. That will probably just add the pressure and lead to spiralling. Just think of who you want to be seen as and then feel free to soften the desired features until they start feeling like what you are. You are yourself regardless of your appearance!

Tip 3: Little ways to express yourself

I think that one of the things that helped me a lot, were subtle details like wearing rings or painting my nails black. Those little things can add confidence and be a great way to express self-love. Get a t-shirt in the lighter tone, so you get to feel more girly or choose the colours for the outfit that are similar to your flag - that is also a great outfit colour scheme advice(!). Little things like jewellery or belts can make you feel more like yourself while being unnoticed by others.

Tip 4: Hobbies

It is also great to have a little hobby that is associated with your identity, even if it is only you who thinks so. Journaling in a specific way or learning new things about that topic can be little thing that could bring a lot of joy and self-affirmation.

Tip 5: Small steps

Last, but not least: little identity goals for the day. Think of a little thing you want to do today to feel like you whether it is flexing in the mirror or touching grass or doing a spin once the outfit, even the most basic one, is put together. Those might be little things that become part of the routine, that reminds you who you are even if others don't agree with you.

What I couldn't imagine then

Lee talks about his experience from childhood to today, as he now lives a life he once never knew was possible.

Lee

I’m a (relatively) happy thirty-something queer trans man. I have a master’s degree, have worked up to almost a £45k salary, and am successful in consultancy, facilitation - and basically, talking to people.

Now, to paraphrase James Baldwin, I do not dream of labour and never have. But if you’d asked teenage me what their future would be, they definitely wouldn’t have pictured anything close to this. It didn’t seem possible. Why? I was an extraordinarily anxious child, and this culminated when I started high school.

Hindsight is a beautiful thing, isn’t it? At school, I was diagnosed with ‘school phobia’; I was home-schooled for a while, prescribed anti-anxiety medication, and saw a local child psychologist. I can’t deny that some (maybe all) of these things helped me cope. But ultimately, my school wasn’t set up to support who I really was: a young trans man who didn’t know it yet.

I didn't even know transness existed, so how could I imagine it for myself?

It was also around that time I came out for the first time. As I understood myself then, I was a girl who liked girls. Beyond a few emo teens experimenting, I was, to my knowledge, the only girl who liked other girls. (Interestingly, I never called myself a lesbian and rarely even said I was gay.) With no education about sexuality at school - and certainly nothing about gender beyond rigid binary roles - I was working within the limits of what I knew. The L Word filled in some gaps (for better or worse), but the truth is I didn’t even know transness existed, so how could I imagine it for myself?

And to think, Section 28 had been repealed! This UK law banned the “promotion” of homosexuality by local authorities, including schools. Though it ended in England and Wales in 2003, its chilling effect lingered. Teachers were afraid to talk openly about LGBTQ+ lives. There were no queer role models in the curriculum, no safe spaces to ask questions, no language for who I was. I didn’t know trans was a thing - so I couldn’t be it.

The discomfort I'd always carried wasn't random; it had a name, and it had answers.

Things changed at university. I met other queer people. I had room to breathe, question, choose. I wasn’t “the weird one” - I was just one of many figuring things out. I discovered that the discomfort I’d always carried wasn’t random; it had a name, and it had answers. I began transitioning in my mid twenties and slowly started becoming myself.

Though trans rights today are far from perfect, I’d still rather be happy and trans than unhappy and not.

That anxious, unsure teen wouldn’t have believed this life was possible. But it is. And it can be for you, too.

Levelling Up: Why LGBTQ+ Representation in Video Games Matters

From the age of four, I remember waking up early on the weekends and sneaking downstairs with my dad to play on his Playstation 2. Tomb Raider, Ratchet & Clank and Ape Escape were some of the many video games that kick started my obsession with this form of media.  

Unlike movies or books, where audiences passively consume a narrative, video games offer agency. Not just as a form of storytelling, but as an immersive experience that allows players to become the characters they see on screen. When an LGBTQ+ character is central to this experience, it doesn’t just send a message, it becomes personal.  

There are many ways I have experienced representation while playing. Most notably, being immersed in a narrative with authentic queer characters or having the freedom to explore yourself in the characters you are able to create. 

Games like The Last of Us Part II and, more recently, the extremely popular Baldur’s Gate 3 don’t simply feature queer characters, they let players live through their stories. That emotional connection can foster empathy and understanding in ways other media can't quite replicate. 

"Video games are proving their power to shape not just what we see, but how we see ourselves."

One standout example is the relationship between Ellie and Dina in The Last of Us Part II. Their connection unfolds naturally; marked by quiet moments, shared jokes, and visible vulnerability. It feels organic, never forced, and deeply human. When I played the game back in 2020, I had recently come out to my family and being immersed in their story moved me in a way no other game had. Seeing them happy and unapologetic (particularly Dina’s character), even in a world where homophobia still exists, was powerful. We're often told to hide who we are, so having that kind of representation mattered. I think seeing a character like Dina earlier might’ve helped me feel more confident in myself. 

"Whether we realise it or not, we project parts of ourselves into our characters"

Representation doesn’t always need to follow a fixed storyline. Baldur’s Gate 3 by Larian Studios has been praised not just for its deep storytelling and gameplay, but also for its unapologetic LGBTQ+ representation. Set in the fantasy world of Faerûn, the game gives players rare freedom to explore fluid romantic and gender identities without judgment. Queer relationships aren’t sidelined, they’re a natural part of the world, woven into every path you take. 

When I first started the game, I was almost overwhelmed by the freedom of choice. Even the character creation felt powerful, it let me build a version of “Tav” that felt completely my own. As the story unfolded, I grew attached not just to companions like Shadowheart, Lae’zel, and Astarion, but to my Tav too. Whether we realise it or not, we project parts of ourselves into our characters and that’s something Larian Studios captured beautifully. 

What really makes Baldur’s Gate 3 stand out is how organic it’s LGBTQ+ storytelling feels. Relationships develop through real conversations and choices, without labels or restrictions. It invites players to create and explore identities in a way that feels honest and deeply personal. 

The industry still has progress to make, but as more developers embrace inclusive storytelling, video games are proving their power to shape not just what we see, but how we see ourselves. For me, gaming has been a gateway to self-discovery, connection, and belonging. Because in this medium, representation isn’t just about being seen, it’s about being played. 

Author: Alexandra Camp

Based in London, Alexandra is a passionate advocate for storytelling and creativity, drawing inspiration from all corners of pop culture. Her interests centre around immersive experiences, particularly within the worlds of video games and tabletop role-playing games like Dungeons & Dragons. She finds deep creative influence in narrative-driven titles such as Baldur’s Gate 3, The Last of Us, and Ghost of Tsushima. These experiences fuel her curiosity and shape her perspective as a designer and storyteller in the digital space.