When it became clear that Donald Trump would return to the presidency on election night, many in the LGBTQ+ community felt a sense of dread and uncertainty. For Paul Curry, a gay man in Seattle, the moment was a gut-punch, a reminder of the challenges the community might face under Trump’s leadership. But Curry, like many others, found solace in the resilience and togetherness of his community. He and his friends leaned on each other, celebrating life by attending a cabaret show, dancing at a queer bar, and finding joy in shared moments of connection. Curry, who is also a Dungeon Master, has found additional refuge in Dungeons & Dragons, a game that has become a safe haven for many in the LGBTQ+ community. The game allows players to create characters free from binary notions of gender and sexuality, offering a space where they can express themselves authentically without fear of judgment.
Safe spaces—whether they are gay bars, Dungeons & Dragons groups, or queer-friendly knitting circles—have always been vital to the LGBTQ+ community. These spaces are not just about physical safety; they are about emotional and psychological refuge. They allow individuals to be their authentic selves, free from the pressure to conform to societal expectations. As Cindy Ramos, a therapist at the Gender & Sexuality Therapy Center in New York City, explained, safe spaces are essential for marginalized people to share their experiences, break free from the burden of performing for the dominant culture, and experience unburdened joy. For Curry and others like him, these spaces have never been more important. “We’re a bunch of gaymers who gather every Sunday,” he said of his D&D group. “The world is spiraling, so it’s nice to escape into a different kind of chaos—one where the cartoonish villains only last for one arc.”
The importance of safe spaces is deeply rooted in the history of the LGBTQ+ community. From underground gay bars to online forums, queer people have always found ways to come together, support one another, and thrive, even in the face of adversity. J. Paul Reed, a San Francisco resident, pointed to the long history of queer resilience: “It’s rooted in our history and our DNA as a queer community to find each other, even in the smallest of towns and unlikeliest of circumstances, and help, support, and love each other.” Today, these spaces are more crucial than ever, as the LGBTQ+ community faces renewed threats under the Trump administration. Nicole Davis, clinical director at the Gender & Sexuality Therapy Center, emphasized the importance of breaking isolation and finding joy in these spaces. “Refusing to give into despair and giving yourself permission to find comfort or meaning is what will carry us through this time,” she said.
Physical safe spaces, such as queer bars and community events, continue to play a vital role in the lives of many LGBTQ+ individuals. Chelcea Stowers, founder of Lesbian Social Detroit, organizes pop-up events and biweekly happy hours where women can gather, decompress, and connect. “Having space to connect and have conversations on how we can grow as a community in spite of what’s going on has been huge,” she said. For Reed, the SF Gaymers—a LGBTQ gaming community—has become a place where he can not only seek and offer support but also stay informed about important issues without being overwhelmed by the news. These spaces are not just about survival; they are about living fully and authentically. As Ramos noted, “You want to be able to show up with all parts of you without feeling like you have to hide or water down parts of your identity.”
In addition to physical spaces, online communities have become increasingly important for many LGBTQ+ individuals, particularly those living in rural or isolated areas. Shane Cherry, vice president of NYC Gaymers, highlighted the importance of virtual spaces like Discord servers, where people can connect, share experiences, and find support. Cherry also expressed concern about the growing hostility on mainstream social media platforms like Facebook, which has rolled back protections for transgender users and eliminated fact-checking. “People who don’t have communities to support them will suffer the most,” he said, emphasizing the need for safe, affirming online spaces. For Jam Verona, founder of Human Flower Productions, art has become a powerful tool for building these spaces. Verona hosts creative workshops for queer and trans people, offering a platform for self-expression and empowerment. “Art gives hope,” Verona said. “It shows queer folks that they have the power and autonomy to create different worlds.”
The LGBTQ+ community has also found strength in professional and volunteer spaces. Cat Perez, co-creator of Famm Connect, the first social networking app for LGBTQ+ professionals, said that the app saw a surge in activity after Trump’s election. For many, these spaces have provided not only professional support but also deep personal connections. Rick Oculto, a volunteer at the National AIDS Memorial and member of SF Gaymers, has found solace in his work repairing the AIDS Memorial Quilt, a project that honors the lives lost to HIV/AIDS. “Being together doesn’t ‘fix’ anything in the sense of policy, but it does make the world we have to walk in that much lighter and enjoyable,” he said. Verona, too, encourages those who can’t find existing safe spaces to create their own, whether through local events or community initiatives. “If nothing like that exists where you live, create it,” Verona said. “See what your community needs, and build it together.”
In the face of uncertainty and adversity, the LGBTQ+ community continues to thrive by leaning on one another and creating spaces of safety, joy, and connection. These spaces—whether they are physical, online, or professional—have always been at the heart of queer resilience. As the community navigates the challenges of the present and future, these spaces will remain essential, offering a reminder that no matter what comes next, the LGBTQ+ community will always have each other’s backs. “It’s rooted in our history and our DNA as a queer community to find each other, even in the smallest of towns and unlikeliest of circumstances, and help, support, and love each other,” Reed said. And in that love and support, there is hope, strength, and the promise of a better future.
