I THOUGHT LONDON WOULD BE LGBTQ+ PARADISE — IT'S BLEAK

I was 22 when I first moved to London. I thought I’d be skipping around Soho, going to drag brunches every weekend, and hanging out every day with a queer-version of the Sex and the City friendship group. 

But the reality is far bleaker than I imagined. 

Perhaps I’d been spoiled living in Manchester for years before making the move. The Gay Village there now seems like a magical utopia compared to what I’ve experienced here. 

Politely turning down men in bars has led to full-blown debates about my sexuality. Saying, ‘No thanks, I have a girlfriend’ has brought on responses like:

‘So you’re a virgin, then?’, ‘You’re too pretty to be a lesbian’, ‘I could turn you’, and ‘Can we have a threesome?’.

Of course, homophobia exists everywhere; it would be naive to think otherwise. And maybe I’ve just been ‘lucky’ before, but the bombardment of low-level insults, intimidation and disrespect is something I haven’t experienced elsewhere. Not in Manchester and not even in my tiny hometown. 

The sheer frequency at which it happens here is exhausting, and something I hadn’t accounted for. 

There are times I won’t even hold my girlfriend’s hand in Central London. I don’t want to be shouted at by protesters across the street, handed a leaflet with the word ‘sin’ on it, or be hurled slurs by teenagers on Lime bikes. Yes, all of which have happened before. 

I’ll hesitate to peck her on the tube. I’ve become too conscious of gawking eyes and confused looks. Maybe it’s the heat and lack of ventilation down there affecting people’s cognitive abilities and manners. Don’t they know it’s rude to stare?

It’s utterly depressing, even more so knowing that this isn’t the worst of it. There seem to be alarming hate crime stories making headlines every week. 

Figures released last year revealed that hate crimes, including homophobic attacks, have risen on the TfL network. 

A 2023 report by London TravelWatch revealed that one in five LGBTQ+ Londoners have experienced a hate crime, with respondents often feeling uneasy or ‘on edge’ when using the capital’s network.  

These statistics are echoed across the rest of the country, as the UK has dropped in global rankings for LGBTQ+ rights. The annual analysis by IGLA-Europe, a human-rights group, cited the recent Supreme Court ruling on the definition of a ‘woman’, as well as queer refugees facing homeless and abuse as just some of the reasons for its low placement. 

Even in LGBTQ+ spaces, safety isn’t promised. It’s only been two years since two homosexual men were attacked with a knife while they were outside the popular LGBTQ+ venue, the Two Brewers in Clapham. 

For myself, and so many others who leave their hometown in search of community and acceptance, London isn’t always the safe space imagined. 

Chloe Smith, 25, moved from Coventry, moved to London in 2022 after attending the University in Birmingham. They now live in Brixton and have experienced homophobia practically on their doorstep. 

‘Quite recently, I was holding hands with my girlfriend and got screamed at on the way to Sainsbury’s. They were screaming “dyke”,’ Chloe tells Metro. ‘I was also walking with my gay male friend around Brockwell Park, and again, people screamed dyke.’

There have been many worse instances, however. ‘I was once in very central London, near Warren Street and kissed someone I was on a first date with, and a man came up to us and offered us £100 to have sex,’ Chloe says, adding that the man followed them both to King’s Cross afterwards. 

‘Recently, I gave my partner a peck at Waterloo, and a man came up to her, grabbed her waist and started saying something sexual,’ they add. ‘I had to push him away.’

Lucy, 25, also moved to London in 2022, originally to Vauxhall, ‘the gay mecca of London’, and now in Brixton. She has also noticed looks and comments made to her in Central London when being with female partners. 

‘I remember one particular instance we were walking past Heaven in Soho and these guys made comments about my body, sexualising it while I was with my partner. My partner spoke up, and they were threatened with assault,’ she tells Metro. 

‘That being said, I have seen and heard worse and know people who have been physically assaulted.’

However, there are obvious draws to London. Chloe says London has provided the LGBTQ+ community and friendships that they didn’t have in Birmingham or Coventry.

One thing London is great for, Chloe says, is the LGBTQ+ events.

‘There’s been an emergence of pop up events, there’s a pop up called Dyke Bar, there’s pool, there’s rounders, there’s Dykes who Hike, there’s a running group called Les Run,’ Chloe adds.

‘I’ve recently joined a football group, I’ve started climbing with a gay climbing group, and I’ve really found community through sober groups with the option of alcohol.’

Pointing out there is a ‘barrier’ in accessing many spaces, such as lesbian club nights, which can cost upwards of £20, and events that are specifically catered towards CIS white gay men, Chloe adds: ‘I do think you just happen upon people. I think if you know where to look, Instagram is a great place for it. You can really find your community.’

Lucy echoes this, saying: ‘I think what’s really great is there is a sense of community, but you have to go searching for it. In a sense you need to be locked into the community, the scene and the culture in order to be accepted.’

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2025-07-05T08:54:48Z