For most people, walking into a room is just… walking into a room. For many LGBTQ+ people, it’s almost like a complex mental calculation.
Who’s here? Is it safe to hold my partner’s hand? Will they laugh at my voice? Should I tone myself down? Is today the day someone decides I exist a little too loudly?
Is it exhausting? Yes Ma’am, abso-freakin-lutely! .
And is it Imaginary? Not in hell’s chance.
This conversation resurfaced after Lock Upp: Sach Ya Sazaa contestant Sufi Motiwala opened up about how he has never truly felt safe. Recalling an alleged bullying incident from a party, he said the experience left him feeling too unsafe, a statement that resonated with many queer viewers who know that “unsafe” isn’t always about physical violence! No, that does even begin to cover it.
Sometimes it’s about living in a state of permanent anticipation. And that’s the thing.
When someone from the LGBTQ+ community says, “I don’t feel safe,” they’re often describing something psychologists have spent decades studying. It has a name!
Yes, it’s f*cking legit.
It Isn’t “Being Too Sensitive,” It’s Called Minority Stress.
One of the most influential psychological frameworks explaining this is the Minority Stress Model, developed by psychologist Ilan H. Meyer. The theory is too simple if you study it with an open mind and yes, with empathy. People who belong to stigmatized minority groups experience chronic stress that others don’t. Not because they’re queer, but because society treats them differently.
Imagine your phone running 47 apps in the background all day. That’s what minority stress can feel like. It’s the mental energy spent scanning every new environment for danger.
Will someone use a slur?
Will I lose this friendship if I come out?
Will my family stop talking to me?
Will strangers stare?
Will my boss think differently of me?
The body doesn’t always wait for something bad to happen. Sometimes it prepares for it anyway. Over time, this constant vigilance can contribute to anxiety, depression, burnout, sleep problems and emotional exhaustion.
Hypervigilance Is Basically Your Brain Saying, “Better Safe Than Sorry.”
Psychologists also use the term hypervigilance. It’s a heightened state of alertness where your brain keeps scanning for possible threats. Think of it as having your internal security alarm permanently switched on.
Most people get to relax after leaving an uncomfortable situation. Someone who’s been bullied for their identity, mocked in school, rejected by family or targeted online may never completely switch that alarm off.
Yes, it may even be a joke beginning with “No offence…” None of these automatically mean danger, but the brain has learned that sometimes they do.
Now, how sad is that?
Then Comes The Emo Math Called “Code-Switching”
Many queer people also spend years changing themselves depending on who’s watching.
Voice softer here, slothes different there, don’t mention your partner, avoid pronouns, and yeah, the worst one, which is..DRUMROLLL..laugh at jokes you actually hate.
No uncle, saying they have a beemari is not funny.
This is often called identity management or code-switching. When you’re never sure which version of yourself is “acceptable,” authenticity does not come naturally.
And yes, it’s f*cking ironic.
Safety Isn’t Just About Not Getting Hurt
This is where people often misunderstand the conversation. Safety isn’t only physical.
Psychologists distinguish between physical safety and psychological safety, or say, the feeling that you can exist, speak, express yourself and make mistakes without fear of humiliation, ridicule or discrimination.
You can be in a crowded room with security guards and still feel completely unsafe if you’ve spent years learning that your identity makes you a target.
That’s why statements like Sufi Motiwala’s hit such a nerve. They remind people that for many queer individuals, the fear isn’t confined to one incident, but is cumulative. Every stare, every “joke,” every rejection and every moment of having to shrink yourself adds another brick to an invisible backpack that’s already way too heavy.
So… How Do You Actually Make Someone Feel Safe?
Contrary to Instagram motivational posts, you don’t need to become the CEO of Allyship™ overnight.
You don’t need rainbow confetti and you certainly don’t need to announce, “I SUPPORT THE COMMUNITY!!!” every six business minutes.
You just need consistency.
- Believe people when they tell you something hurt them.
- Use the names and pronouns they ask you to use.
- Don’t out someone without their permission.
- Call out homophobic or transphobic jokes instead of laughing awkwardly because “it’s easier.”
- Create spaces where people don’t have to explain or defend their existence.
And perhaps the biggest one is well…don’t make acceptance feel conditional. Because real safety isn’t someone saying, “We’ll tolerate you.” It’s someone making you feel like you never had to earn your place in the room in the first place.
At the end of the day, everyone deserves that feeling. The ability to enter a room without running a background risk assessment.
For many LGBTQ+ people, that isn’t ordinary, but is the dream.
And maybe the rest of us should spend less time asking, “Why don’t they feel safe?” and more time asking, “What can we change so they finally do?”
Toodlesss.