By Jamie Windust

Copyright independent

I’ve spent the majority of the past decade living alone in London, and I wouldn’t change it for the world. But when it comes to travelling, I struggle to find confidence in myself, especially as an LGBT+ person.

Like a lot of people, there are pockets of the UK that I love to visit repeatedly, whether it’s the sandy, windswept beaches of Cornwall, Hove’s rocky seafront, or Manchester’s queer metropolis.

As I near the end of my twenties, though, I’m itching to spread my wings – but fear of the unknown is proving to be a challenge.

Crucially, travelling to new places can be a deeply uncomfortable experience for me. There is contentment, and joy, in visiting the same destinations more than once, finding new pockets to explore while, importantly, feeling safe.

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As an LGBT+ person who identifies as queer and non-binary, I have lived with a hyper-awareness of my surroundings for as long as I can remember. I’ve always been conscious of who I’m walking past, or which areas of a town I’m venturing into.

Fear of hate crime, or objectification, or just feeling unsafe, has led to panic and anxiety. It makes me want to click my fingers and be magicked back home – which is why when it comes to going on holiday, I return to the spaces that I know are the safest.

In a city I’ve already visited, I can orientate myself. I recognise the hotel staff and baristas from last time; there’s a reassuring sense of familiarity.

In fact, going abroad is something that I’ve only done once in my adult life – on a work trip to Sweden. But at 28, flying to New York or visiting the Swiss Alps is something I want to do without feeling like an outcast, or like I have a target on my back.

There are genuine worries, too. Travelling to the United States as a trans person has become increasingly difficult after the re-election of Donald Trump. An executive order enacted at the beginning of his second term, titled “Defending Women from Gender Ideology Extremism and Restoring Biological Truth to the Federal Government”, resulted in passports with an “X” – which were formerly used to identify people outside of the gender binary – no longer being issued.

So perhaps my fears are not hyperbolic daydreams: getting lost on the subway, or a hotel losing my booking, could have serious consequences. My concerns are tangible and impact my community directly. There are real threats and obstacles when it comes to travel as an LGBT+ person, but, like all challenges our community has faced, they’re not insurmountable.

Despite this, I know that change cannot come from staying in the same position. The world is a scary place, but sitting back and avoiding new encounters isn’t going to make it less scary – it’s just going to keep me small.

So, by visiting the places I know and love, such as Manchester, Brighton, Oxford and Cambridge, I feel a sense of safety that I can bottle up and take with me when I venture to new areas of the UK.

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Finding an independent cultural space, such as the Queer Lit bookshop in Manchester or the Lewes Depot cinema in Sussex, is one of my favourite ways to settle into a space. And when I visit a new destination, it’s a matter of discovering the equivalent spot in that city.

But my favourite way to settle in is by taking myself out for a solo dinner or coffee. I find the cafe (ideally with a ridiculous name), sit down, and take in the new landscape: soaking up safe feelings to take with me into the day.

I make an effort to smile at 25 people, pushing myself into becoming part of the city rather than an “outsider”. If I do venture into an area of town that leaves me feeling worried or anxious, I know that I have a base to go back to.

Sometimes, the fear we hold as marginalised people can be in our heads. That’s not to say that we don’t face unique challenges when travelling, but it’s OK to let our guard down and experience what the world has to offer. There’s community everywhere. Sometimes, we might just have to look harder for it and trust that we can find it.

If, like me, you love going to the same seaside town in the Scottish Highlands every year because the seal-watching, or the vegan ice cream, brings you comfort, I implore you to keep doing it. It doesn’t matter if it’s a permanent choice or you’re wanting to build up the confidence, like me – you’re never boring for prioritising your own safety.