My name is Stella, a lesbian woman seeking asylum in Ireland because I had to flee my home country, where my identity put me at tremendous risk. I’ve travelled a journey filled with struggle, pain, and fear, which has led me to a strength and support I never dreamed I could find.
Back home, living openly was a life-or-death matter. Growing up in a deeply homophobic society—where being gay or lesbian was punishable by imprisonment or even mob violence—I learned to suppress my true self. I lived with the constant fear of being discovered. I suffered beatings and public humiliation for simply being who I am.
When my family found out about my sexuality, I was completely rejected and banished from home. I was told I was a shame and an embarrassment. At that time, I felt like I deserved death rather than the rejection and hostility I was facing. Life felt meaningless in such an environment, and I knew that if I wanted to survive, I would have to escape one day.
Leaving my country was the hardest decision I’ve ever made. I had to give up everything for the sake of my life. The journey to Ireland was filled with uncertainty. I was haunted by the fear of whether I would ever find acceptance.
When I arrived in Ireland, I felt both relief and anxiety. Seeing LGBTQ+ flags flying in public spaces was thrilling and mesmerizing. I applied for asylum, but the interview process involved revisiting my traumatic past. Each time I shared my story, it felt like I was reliving the shame and pain, and I would again feel like I had to hide.
During this difficult time, I was recommended to a remarkable Irish LGBTQ+ community centre—Outhouse—by my counsel. I was hesitant to engage with people, but he encouraged me, saying Outhouse was a place where I could meet people like me.
The first time I visited, I sat quietly in a corner and ordered a cup of tea before walking to reception to ask about activities. I was drawn to the Sapphics and Safe Space group activities. Safe Space suited me well, since it was held on Saturdays and I could travel in from Wicklow more easily.
When I walked into that first Safe Space group meeting, I was so timid. The room was filled with vibrant, diverse individuals. I felt an energy of belonging that I had never experienced before. I met people like me—each person with a story of struggle and survival—and for the first time in my life, I felt understood.
The group meetings, the support, and the people I found within Outhouse became my lifeline. I learned about resilience from others who had endured similar experiences. Together, we celebrate our identities and share in the power of acceptance.
I’ve since become a volunteer Safe Space group leader so I can support others who are trying to navigate their own struggles. The Outhouse community has helped me begin to heal.
Ireland has given me the opportunity to live without fear. Pride celebrations and open discussions about love, resilience, and hope have allowed me to envision a life where I can embrace my identity rather than hide it.
Though my past is marked by pain, rejection, and hostility, I now stand proud—determined to use my voice to advocate for those still facing adversity.