Invisible Voices: How Gays Live in Modern Belarus

The trend towards emigration from Belarus (and Russia) of representatives of the queer community has not decreased for many years. There are more and more reasons for this: from the lack of a legislative framework for the protection of LGBTQ+ people, the marginalization of queer people in society (having joint property, having the opportunity to visit a partner in the hospital, etc.), to basic homophobia. To all this is added Responsibility for the so-called "propaganda of non-traditional relationships". This motivates someone to emigrate. Others are building their lives in the new Belarusian realities. 

For those who do not have the opportunity to emigrate, the situation inside the country can be frustrating and force them to withdraw even more into themselves. We would not like representatives of the queer community who currently live in Belarus to feel lonely and unheard. We want the voice from inside the country to sound, albeit quietly, not to everyone, but to sound, thereby showing that you are and your voice is as important as the voice of any Belarusian. 

Doberman.media asked LGBTQ+ Belarusians who stayed in their homeland about how they feel and how they can characterize their lives, what has changed and how does it affect the queer community within the country? 

Note that some guys indicated their real names, but for security reasons by the decision of the editorial board Doberman.media Names in the stories have been changed or are not called at all. 

Doctor , 28 years old (near Minsk)

"People think that if they call me gay, then it must somehow hurt me?!"

"I recently celebrated my 28th birthday. I live in a small town near Minsk. I am a doctor. I work almost all the time. I am partly a creative person: I have been dancing for 18 years. 

How has my life changed lately?! I would say that it has become more closed. I don't make new acquaintances, I don't participate in any activities. Only home, work, home. A couple of friends on weekends 2-3 times a month and that's it. 

I wouldn't say that something has changed in queer life. My whole life has changed. It has become very difficult to live (survive) in this country. I love my profession very much, so it is difficult for me to go somewhere without preparation. What has also changed is that people have become more closed. The authorities are trying to stick their noses everywhere. Thank God, for me personally, it is not particularly noticeable yet. 

I don't know if it's because of the change in my age or because of the increased political tension in the country, but I've started to feel more useless.

I think that the majority of smart, talented and modern people feel more and more unnecessary...

Overall, I wouldn't say I've ever been a flashy representative of queer culture. I'm more of a home person. I accepted myself quite early. And my whole family. Therefore, I somehow did not single out this part of myself as something outside of my daily life.

Now I don't meet at all, if we take romantic or sexual relationships. Sometimes someone gets caught on Instagram. I haven't used dating apps for a long time. I had a Hornet until 2023, but I used it rarely. After the situation with an acquaintance in Hrodna, when a police officer met him and put him behind bars "for a day" after a visit, I removed him.

As a member of the queer community, I don't feel any aggravation or any pressure. I feel it more as a free person who has different views on political life in the country. 

There are people who, for example, try to use their guesses about my sexual orientation during a quarrel as some kind of offensive "argument". I never understood this. I'm gay, quite openly gay. People think that if they call me gay, then it should somehow hurt me?! 

All the closest people in my life know about me. These are my mother, both grandmothers, 2 sisters, aunt, father. All my close friends know that I am gay – this is my principled position. I open up to people with whom I communicate well as early as possible. If they are not satisfied with something, then it's time to "fuck off", before the lack of communication with this person becomes something important for me.

Sasha, 29 years old (Minsk)

"About 5 years ago, there were more guys in Minsk and it was easier to meet someone"

"I'm Sasha, I'm 29 years old, I've been living in Minsk for almost half my life. I grew up in a very small town, where it is not customary to be gay and even talk about it. Therefore, it was difficult for me to accept myself until a certain age. I was waiting for the moment when it would be possible to leave there. 

With the move and then every year it became easier, more comfortable and freer for me, I met new people, thanks to which, I realized that being gay is normal. People with whom I communicated and were friends, as well as colleagues, were also influential. For so many years in Minsk, I have never encountered bullying and homophobia. Although, perhaps, I was just lucky with people. 

About 5 years ago, there were more guys in Minsk and it was easier to meet someone. Many left for various reasons. Moreover, gays have always wanted, want and will want a better life. Of course, after the events of 2020, The situation escalated and so a lot of guys moved to where it was freer and safer. 

In the current situation, I would not say that I feel disadvantaged. Nothing has changed in my life. Except that many acquaintances and friends have left. 

I began to get acquainted less often. Perhaps this is due to emigration. And I somehow began to treat dating more simply. I no longer chase dates and parties. I want home peace and stability. 

I don't feel pressure. Nowhere. At work, everyone always knew and still knows.It so happened that hetero guys are calm and respectful about this. And this is rarely a topic for discussion. I am a versatile person, I have intelligence, I can support any conversation. Well, if they are interested, they ask, I can even tell something frank. Sometimes they are shocked by what they hear. 

I came out to some close friends when I was still a teenager. 

Parents do not know. They live far away. We are not so close, but we are on good terms. It's easier for me."

Waiter, 25 years old (Minsk)

"The city is gradually coming to life, but everyone understands that some situations have thrown it back 10 years"

"I am 25 years old, my hometown is Minsk, I work as a waiter. 

I do not hide my orientation, everyone knows about me at work, just like my friends and my mother. My life hasn't changed much lately.  

But Minsk has changed after 2020. A lot. Many people left, many places were closed. The city seems to have died. Those who stayed were deeply nostalgic for the old days, and then came to terms with it. I love Minsk, the city itself, its streets, this is my hometown. Maybe this love helped him survive his bad time, I don't know. At the moment, it is getting a little better, as if the sun is brighter and there is more air. The city is gradually coming to life, but it is clear to everyone that some situations have thrown it back 10 years. 

As a representative of the queer community, my life has not changed. I don't walk around and shout who I am; What I am is my personal business. 

Yes, you can't walk in heels around the city and paint your face brightly if you feel like it. But you can just live and meet people. That's enough for me. Знакомлюсь в приложении Hornet и Grindr, но там сейчас всё печально: на 70-80% интересных парней стало меньше. 

I told my mother about myself at the age of 18, she said that she understood everything, she was just waiting for a personal confession from me. She is both my mother and a close friend, I was lucky to have her. 

At work, everyone knows, everything is very calm and smooth with this, my colleagues are not narrow-minded people. I work as a waiter in the premium segment, the guests of my restaurant also know about me. 

I think there is a difference: where you are and who is next to you. If you admit that you are gay in Kurasovshchina, most likely someone will you up. But my environment is the people I chose myself, so I don't have a problem with that."

Software engineer, 33 years old (Minsk)

"But you still feel like a lot of people have left and there is a feeling of emptiness."

"I am a software engineer, I live in Minsk, I am 33 years old. Recently, I can't say that something has changed much for me. I heard that the Minsk gay club (Burlesque, approx. metroboy.pro) was closed, but since I didn't go there, I don't seem to care. There are non-themed bars where you can get acquainted, but I'm not a fan of such a vacation either. So nothing has fundamentally changed for me. Except that leaving the country of Tinder means minus one app where you can meet. 

But still, it feels like a lot of people have left and there is a feeling of emptiness in the city. 

As a representative of the LGBTQ+ community, I feel a little lonely and defenseless, but like everyone around me, regardless of my orientation. 

There is some pressure from family and friends (who do not know about my orientation), they say, why am I still single, because it's time, etc. 

At the moment, I'm working on accepting myself, so I haven't come out yet."

Pavel, 25 years old (Minsk)

"If someone is offended by the fact that another person is happy, alas, there is nothing to envy here."

"I am 25 years old, I have been living in Minsk for 7 years. The first years of life in the capital were frightening: a large number of new people, someone was constantly nearby. Setting boundaries was difficult, because, alas, there was no experience of healthy behavior in society, as well as any life theory. As a result, life is a game in which it is not clear who I am. I didn't accept myself and thought that I could just live and not pay attention to it, but it didn't work out that way.

Having completely lied, I began to slowly listen to myself what I liked, and not wonder why. That's how my introduction to Hornet, Grindr, and other less popular platforms began. All this frightened and pulled at the same time. I would have been completely confused if it were not for such an organization as "Meeting". There I saw for the first time that the queer community is the same people as everyone else. Later, I found friends who I felt comfortable with, with whom I could discuss all the things that I couldn't before. For the first time, I encountered the lack of emphasis on the topic of who is who. Ordinary communication without attention to orientation. After that, I wanted to understand more and finally accept myself. 

Then, for a year, I worked through my problems with a psychologist, which gave incredible results. I was no longer what I used to be. The new me, I understood what he wanted and what he didn't, I could stand up for myself and not blush, not be afraid of anything. I told my close circle that I like guys and I want to build relationships with them. It was scary, but friends are friends because they should not be afraid of such moments. Some people turned away from me, but it was necessary to understand that it was not a friendship. My people stayed with me and were sincerely glad that I had come this way, I could be happy and not be afraid of anyone. Everything was perceived as something very ordinary. The most difficult thing was to tell my parents.

At first, I decided to tell my mother, because we had a warmer relationship with her than with my father. We had dinner, talked and I carefully led our conversation into the topic I needed. Mom tensed up, it was obvious, and then asked directly: "Do you like guys?". I replied that it had always been so, but I hid it, because I did not know anything and was afraid. To my regret, my expectations from the evening were not met. Everyone turned on their defense, everything came to a total misunderstanding. Mom took everything as a problem and immediately began to advise me what to do without hearing me. For some time, after my coming out to my mother, we didn't even communicate, we were on each other's blacklist, threw such heavy phrases as "you're no longer my son", "you're no longer my mother" and so on. The silence lasted about two weeks. Mom was the first to get in touch, we began to talk, choosing words, yielding somewhere and treating each other understandingly. Mom had a lot of questions, which she carefully asked and was interested in. She wanted to accept it, but she could not do it due to her upbringing at that time. 

Over time, we established and returned our communication. We agreed to treat each other with respect. We are different, but still dear people. 

I understood that I also needed to talk to my father. Somehow by chance, my dad and I were left alone at the dacha. Word for word, we touched on the topic of homosexual relationships, and then Dad also asked directly, "Are you gay?" I answered, and Dad reached for a cigarette. We talked for a very long time. Dad then calmly said that he needed time to think about it. A week later, he called me and said that it was very difficult for him, that he probably would not be able to accept it. I answered understandingly, saying that I did not require it. After another week or two, he called and said that all this was trifles, I was his son, and this was the main thing. He asked if I was fine. Then, one day, during a conversation, he shared that in his youth there were guys of non-traditional sexual orientation in one of his companies. Dad knew them as good and cool people. That's why he didn't ask me so many questions, because once he faced it and learned a lot. I think that my father still accepted me, he has no desire to change me, he even asked if I had someone now, asked to introduce me to him. 

And on my birthday, in congratulations, he said: "Be happy, you know how you will be happy and with whom, you are my son, and I am proud that I have you!". These words, of course, are nice to hear. I think my mother and I will still be able to discuss all the topics, she just needs a little more time, because of the complete lack of experience in this. I know that they are proud of me and that they really love me.

Having gone through all this, I can now sensibly assess all the previous and subsequent experience of communicating and interacting with the queer community. Of course, nowadays even just getting to know each other has become a problem. Hornet, Grindr – all this is sometimes so dirty that there is no pleasure from communicating in these applications. Of course, there are people whom I met on these social networks for a long time and still keep in touch. They are also people who have accepted themselves. But the percentage of such people in these networks, unfortunately, is negligible. But like everything in this world, Hornet and Grindr have their own audiences, with their own requests and desires that don't match mine. Tinder seemed to me to be the best place to meet people in the virtual world. Although the hetero side of Tinder does not agree with me. Tinder in the world of queer people didn't seem like a place to find a partner for the night. Here I had dates, conversations, and communication for the first time. The meetings were cool with quite nice people who were looking for a person for a relationship, and were not afraid to hear no if they understood that in some way we were not suitable for each other. On February 15, Tinder leftFrom our region, the situation has become not very good.

If you put down the virtual world and think about alternative dating options, there was a gay club Burlesque in Minsk. To come and not meet someone was something unreal. There were always acquaintances, communication, and I think everyone got what they came to this club for. There were also thematic events and closed lgbtq+ parties, where you could also relax and not be afraid, privacy was present, everything was, as they say, for your own. At such parties, it was much easier to get to know someone. But the gay bars/clubs are no longer there, they are closed. For what reasons, one can only guess.

Good old Instagram remains. From the general subscriptions, you understand that the guy is probably gay. Subscriptions, likes, reactions to stories, noticeable minimal interest – you are already communicating. On Instagram, everything is somehow simpler. You see a person, his photo. 

It's hard for me to say about the situation as a whole. It seems to me that everything depends on the person himself. I surrounded myself with people who perceive me like everyone else. I don't lead a hidden life, I can have nice conversations with my boyfriend in public, I can hug and kiss him when I meet. What difference does it make to me that the whole yard or the whole street is looking at me? If someone is offended by the fact that another person is happy, alas, there is nothing to envy here."

Andrey, 26 years old (Pinsk)

"I think it's only going to get worse with time."

"My name is Andrei, I am 26 years old, I live and work in Pinsk. 

In the past few years, my life has changed for the worse, more and more prohibitions and restrictions from the state. I think it will only get worse over time. 

In the new realities, as a representative of the LGBTQ+ community, I do not feel very comfortable. And lately I almost don't sleep and eat little, I worry a lot about my future. I constantly feel psychological pressure, not necessarily direct, but it is there. 

I usually meet on Hornet and Grindr, and until February 15 there was Tinder. There are fewer places where you could make new acquaintances, it used to be easier with this. 

I'll tell you about my first coming out: when I was in college, my classmate liked me, her friend told me about it. I had to talk to her and tell her everything about myself. Now we are friends.

All my friends know about me, but I don't dare to come out completely."

From the author

While preparing this material, I recalled the Belarusian column at Warsaw Pride in 2023: I did not expect to see so many emigrated queer Belarusians at the Pride. It was surprising that among the queer community there were many hetero-normative people, with families and children, who came to support the Belarusian queer community. This was the tolerance, in its best sense, that we need to cultivate and strengthen. Who knows, perhaps such a pride will someday be held in Belarus.