Throughout my life I've been consistently surrounded by "family members" who aren't actually related to me. My parents' close friends were considered "aunts" and "uncles," and I've found myself referring to my friends' parents over the years as my second moms and dads on more than one occasion.
This is by no means a unique experience, and instead illustrates what is a common reality for many of us: no matter where they are, people find their people. Social and increasingly mobile creatures, we have a gift for finding what we need in those around us, sometimes without even thinking about it.
When I moved to Prague for college in 2019, I was reminded of this superpower, because for so long I had taken it for granted. Culture shock and the language barrier made it hard to feel connected to the world I was in, and for a long time, some of the safest and most comforting moments I had in my first year abroad were with other expats and/or Queer folks.
This brings me to a term that many people have come across at some point: found family. Anyone familiar with the chaos and inconsistencies of life knows that some of the best support out there comes from patchwork communities. This especially rings true at the intersection of queerness and living abroad, where finding support in new faces feels twice as important.
Living in Scotland
When Becca Salenjus (she/her) moved to Scotland from Seattle three years ago, she found her community "completely accidentally," she recalled. "All my American friends that I made in my first year of college [there] just ended up being Queer." Having identified as Bisexual since her junior year of high school, Salenjus was the first of her college friends to be out.
In an interview over the weekend, she told me that the second year of college — which happened during early COVID lockdowns — allowed her friends to do some self-exploration, which she was there for. "Everything was closed, so we spent a lot of time at their house, and it was really nice to explore that together and just check in," she said.
Becca is now in her final year at the University of St. Andrews, a small seaside town about an hour north of Edinburgh. Because of its size, she explained, there aren't many exclusively Queer public spaces in St. Andrews simply because there aren't that many public spaces in general. "I also think because it's a really small town and everyone knows everyone, being Queer in itself makes you part of a community, because everyone knows," she said, describing the prominent involvement of the town's social network. "Ya know, your details are just kind of on blast."
While St. Andrews, which is primarily made up of students, families, and retirees, is generally open-minded, Salenjus also mentioned that there are moments when she hasn't felt the most secure there. "There have definitely been times where I'm kinda wary of public displays of affection. You hear the stories... homophobic slurs getting painted on walls and stuff like that," she explained. "These things happen, ya know? Nothing's ever happened to me, but it's always on my mind."
While there have been moments of uncertainty, Salenjus concluded our conversation on a beautifully bittersweet note about her experiences abroad, saying, "Just moving to another country was really good for me, because I got out of my high school relationship and moved to Scotland and got to just be a completely different person."
She also expanded on a similarity between her Queer journey and her life as an expat: "I feel like there's some parallel of just... feeling like I didn't quite fit in and having it take a lot of time."
A fresh perspective in Prague
In another interview, I was able to talk with Hazel Nye (she/her), a Portland resident who moved to Prague for college two years ago and identifies as a Lesbian.
Hazel came to terms with her identity in high school, where she was surrounded by a rather Queer social circle. As she recalled, "All of my close friends there were Queer, so I just started to question my own identity and ask, like, 'Maybe I'm Gay?'"
In a story similar to Salenjus's, Hazel touched on the subtle power of Queer community for one's self-exploration, or, as she put it, "being exposed to people like me and just realizing stuff about myself through them."
Regarding her sense of safety and inclusion in the Czech city, Nye mentioned her social circle at her college, in which she is the only LGBTQ+ person: "There have been moments where people will make comments... There's things that they might not think about in their home countries, but here I pick up on them."
Although that this issue isn't specific to Prague, I can confirm that there are certainly more moments like this than we experience in more uniformly liberal West Coast cities.
Hazel also has a (mostly Queer) friend group outside of her school, and she mentioned in our conversation that she tends to relax more around them, saying, "I feel more comfortable and at ease with my friends who are Queer."
Regarding the social dynamics in mostly straight and mostly Gay groups, subtle expectations, varying norms, conversations, etc., she added, "Filtering yourself, even if it's really small... it takes a toll."
Having compared each of our experiences in Prague, we bonded at the end over the common experience of finding family, reminiscing on how pleasant and easy it can be to find your kind of people even after moving halfway across the world. "I don't know how exactly it happens, but it's just a vibe that you get," Nye concluded, summing the feeling up quite well.
The Queer expat experience is unique and diverse, encompassing millions of people across the world. While it covers a broad demographic, one of the overarching themes has become clear: this is a group defined by tenacity and resilience and who live constantly reminded of the universal power of LGBTQ+ love and found family.