Fleeing homophobic oppression,
fleeing Romania

Home. A word that radiates comfort, safety and freedom. For some, it is the place they were born in, for some it is anywhere, but the place they were born in. Whether it’s fleeing war, cultural differences or simply because of politics, no one is forced to stay in a country where they feel oppressed. In the modern world, most of us can choose a better home for ourselves.

 

“I’ve always been attracted to girls, as far as I can remember,” says Călina, a Romanian citizen, who left her home country at 20, wandering around the globe, then finally settling in the UK four years ago. “It’s never acceptable to be gay in Romania. But you get away with being a bit different when you are a kid…I got away with running around looking like a boy” she adds.

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Călina is rather tall, has short and wavy brownish hair, large, round glasses and never wears make-up. As she is more of a masculine-looking lesbian, also called butch, she is somewhat of an outcast in the Eastern European country.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Teo, her girlfriend of three years is what you would call a femme. She carries more feminine traits, she is shorter than Călina, her hair is mid-length and naturally curly. The brunette curls match her large, almond-shaped dark eyes, usually highlighted with glittery eyeshadow. She seems rather fragile at first glance. “I am seen as a little woman who doesn’t know what she’s doing and she’s being manipulated by lesbians” Teo explains, adding that “it is a blessing because you are invisible. I wouldn’t get targeted on the street unless people knew for a fact that I am a lesbian.”

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Călina and Teo are both from Romania but they only met in Bristol for the first time in 2017, after chatting online for a while. Bristol was midway between Wales, where Călina resided at that point, and London, where Teo was living. “It wasn’t until Călina came into my life that I first considered dating a woman,” she says, and it wasn’t easy for her to come to terms with her sexual orientation. Teo spent a year bouncing from heterosexual encounters to homosexual experiences. Coming out is extremely challenging mentally, and the inner battle can pose serious mental health issues. “Most queer people have trauma and you have to deal with it for the rest of your life, try to unpack it, resolve what you had in those years.”

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Romania had a rough past few decades slowly attempting to adapt to the European standards of accepting different genders and sexualities into the mainstream. Only in 2001 did the country legalise homosexuality, a ghastly 34 years after the UK. The key difference between the UK and Romania is the way religion is perceived. Romania is ruled by a fully conservative government that is essentially tied to the Orthodox Catholic church. “The climate around sexual education is criminal because it is sinful to talk about sex” explains Teo. By being homosexual in Romania, “you are choosing a life of sin, of social exile.” As of now, same-sex marriage is prohibited and the country doesn’t recognise same-gender couples as family, one is not even allowed to visit their partner in the hospital when seriously ill. 

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The UK, in comparison, is much safer for homosexual people. “Research has suggested that the harassment of LGBTQ+ people is significantly higher in Romania than it is in the UK” points out Ella Braidwood, a freelance London-based journalist specialising in covering LGBTQ+ issues.

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Nevertheless, there are certain instances when they experience microaggressions, discrimination and even physical abuse, a lot of the times unreported, for expressing their sexual orientation in public or at the workplace. A little over a year ago, Teo had to suffer through her first workplace discrimination at the restaurant, where she was training to become the assistant general manager. “Girls were slapping each other on the butt, or just imitating a sex act. When I once made a remark on my colleague, that was interpreted as something a sexual predator would do” she recollects the events. A few disciplinary meetings and several more false accusations later, she was let go. “They put all my actions under a microscope just because they knew my sexual orientation” she explains and, unfortunately, it took her a while to understand that it was, in fact, homophobic.

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“I would say that employers should try to provide educational sessions and events on diversity, including the LGBTQ+ community” addresses Braidwood. Even though the general public is mostly accepting of any type of diversity in the UK,  there is ample space for improvement, both at the workplace and in the mainstream media. “There is more positive media representative of LGBTQ people but I feel they can be quite stereotypical” argues Rohit K. Dasgupta, academic at Loughborough University and British Labour Party politician.

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With all that in mind, it is safe to say that the UK is far from being a perfect haven for minorities. During the 6-month-long nationwide lockdown in the United Kingdom, there is no denying that everyone’s mental health has been largely challenged. As a direct consequence of the lockdown, suicidal thoughts have gone up according to research published in the British Journal of Psychiatry.

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LGBTQ+ people were especially vulnerable not only for being isolated from other humans and uncertainty about the future but for being disconnected from their main support group, the LGBTQ+ community. In the first three months of the UK lockdown, 11,000 people have accessed LGBT Hero’s suicide-prevention websites, which was 44% more than in the pre-lockdown months of 2020, as the support group reported in July.

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According to Dasgupta, “There still remains marginalisation when it comes to LGBTQ people of colour, working-class LGBTQ people and so on. Needing to invest more in public services, advocacy and health would be the bare minimum.” In 2018, the UK government finally acknowledged the higher risk of mental health issues among LGBT people, therefore the LGBT Action plan was launched, but they have yet to properly act on this plan.

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Apart from the pressuring societal norms and discriminating governmental regulations, being gay or lesbian is exceptionally tough on familial relationships. Both Teo and Călina had to experience a gradual alienation from their families throughout the years. “My grandma doesn’t believe I’m a lesbian,” says Teo with a half-smile, “they [her grandparents] think they won’t have grandchildren anymore. The stigma of not being able to have a family as a gay person is huge.”

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When you cannot rely on your family for acceptance, there are always people who are in the same or a similar boat to connect with. “It feels good to be queer around other queer people, it’s the most magical thing actually,” says Teo, “it brought more authentic friendship connections.” Once heterosexual people realise that a person is lesbian or gay, however, it suddenly becomes the main topic, which is almost like degrading someone from a fully-fledged human being with interests and aspirations, to an out of the ordinary person who is only special for being homosexual.

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Călina and Teo, as many other queer Romanian citizens have no interest in moving back to the country, and homophobia is only one of the many reasons behind that. They do occasionally return as a couple, and it is “stressful, fearful, disgusting, just almost unbearable” in Călina’s words. “No progress was achieved by people sheltering themselves and others. I’m not ready to be an activist in that climate” she adds.

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The queer couple turning away from a government and society that despises them is just one example of how societal oppression can cast out a whole group of minority, but there are almost identical stories out there in connection with Hungary, Poland or Russia.

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“Until politics change, nothing is going to change, the only blessing Romanians have is the internet and being exposed to other people, but otherwise, the place is a hellhole and it doesn’t do anything for you” Teo explains with a sense of disappointment and melancholy in her voice. “If it ever changes, I will consider it, because it is my home, my father is there, and it is a pretty beautiful country, but it’s not without its people.”