Many young queer people find University to be a transformative experience, where they can surround themselves with like-minded individuals and form close-knit relationships that might have been impossible in their hometowns. These friendships often encourage them to express themselves more authentically than ever before. However, graduation comes in the blink of an eye, bringing with it an abrupt end to this freedom for those who are forced to return home.

One such person is my friend Ami. Ami is 26 years old, non-binary, queer, disabled, and loudly-and-proudly Scottish, as well as one of the most creative and kind people I know. Ami and I met on our first day of University, after I offered to pick them up on move-in day. I knew immediately we would be bonded for life. And I was right! I will personally attest to the transformation Ami experienced throughout University, as they blossomed into themselves and began presenting in a way which befit their gender identity while pursuing queer relationships and their passions in acting and film/media.

After we graduated together in 2024, Ami moved back home and took a retail job while searching for opportunities in media. Despite applying to every role available, nothing was working, and they had to remain at their retail job for over a year. I could see the toll that being back in their hometown and working retail was taking on them, because they were clearly feeling stuck in a place that was less accepting than the safe community we had worked so hard to build. "While at University, I became myself in a way. I was my true authentic self when I was [there]”, they reminisced, “I really grew into the person that I always wanted to be. And when I moved back home, what I didn't realise was that it would be a slow decline into no longer being myself". So you can imagine how glad I was to hear that they had finally found their chance to make it out of their wee town

Everything changed when Ami met Will online. Will introduced them to Manchester's vibrant queer scene through Riot Party, an unabashedly queer, intersectional and sex-positive rave, and through a diverse community of queer and polyamorous folk who regularly attend this event. The contrast between Glasgow and Manchester's queer scenes was immediately apparent to Ami. "Glasgow's queer scene, [when I compare it to Manchester’s], is little to non-existent" , they explained. "I just felt that I could not be openly queer where I lived. I couldn't be openly non-binary. I essentially went back into the closet when I moved back home. Which is terrifying, because I spent so many years getting myself out of it". Then, after meeting Will and the rest of the group in Manchester and attending their first Riot Party together, Ami became completely enamoured with the freedom they had suddenly regained through this experience, and thus decided to put aside their anxiety and make the move. I find this very inspiring, so I decided to interview them about the incredible journey they have been on to regain their sense of identity and community.

Their first Riot Party experience was definitely a transformative one. "I remember [arriving at Manchester’s Gay Village] and it almost felt like being on holiday, in a way. It seems a bit silly, but that’s how I felt seeing the strip of bars and clubs, and everything being so big and vibrant". The event's careful attention to consent and boundaries created a safe space where Ami could truly feel comfortable to be themselves. They also highlighted how seeing other people living their most authentic lives allowed them to shed some of the pre-event anxiety and truly enjoy themselves. “It was really, really nerve-wracking, because I was about to walk into an event that I had never been to before, and because it was my first kink party. But it felt like a proper queer event. And I was surrounded by these people that I barely knew, but who were all so incredibly supportive of each other”. "It was as if I was opening up to a whole new world. And, straight away, seeing how everyone was dressed, how everyone was presenting themselves and how everyone was just being themselves… It was the most freeing feeling for me".

The local community welcoming them with wide-open arms also definitely helped. "I was essentially walking into a room of strangers, practically naked, and the second I took off that coat I just instantly felt welcomed. I didn't feel the need to hide, because everyone looked so incredible. I thought 'Fuck yeah, I belong here'" . And then I was approached to go to the playroom, not even an hour after arriving” . Ami’s first experience in the playroom, “a guarded-off room with a bunch of BDSM equipment and surfaces to have sex on” which you can only access after discussing consent and boundaries with your scene partner/s, “felt like a sigh of relief, in a way”. “Despite the fact that I was having sex in front of at least 10 other strangers, it didn’t feel like I was putting on a show or that it was fetishized”, they confided in me. It allowed them to explore a sexual side of themselves that they had always known was there, without the anxiety that comes with compromising personal boundaries and safety to appease others.

Their favourite memory comes from their second Riot Party, which celebrated the theme of "Fuck the Patriarchy, but not for free!" alongside sex workers' experiences. "I'd say that my favourite memory from Riot so far was seeing these sex workers, who were incredible, and basically had a full set with a DJ and just got up on stage... There was no choreography, there was no set thing that they had to do... They just got on stage and had the time of their lives. And for me, that was really nice to see, because it was just a massive celebration. And especially because there were a couple of trans sex workers who were dancing on stage which, with the recent legislations that’s been passed by the UK government, is very important. Seeing that and being able to come together in a space where everyone is welcome, no matter your skin colour, sexuality, gender or whether you are disabled or not (they had that accessibility) was amazing… Everyone was being celebrated”.

I think it’s safe to say that Ami will return to Riot in the future, and continue building their self-confidence as they re-emerge from the closet and into their new life among the queer folk in Manchester. As their close friend, I have already noticed the huge difference this move has meant for Ami, and while I can tell that they are scared due to the uncertainty their future holds, I know this to be the right path for them. I went through something similar when I decided to move abroad to study at University as a fresh-faced 18-year-old, only to come out the other end as a staunch feminist and unabashedly queer writer. So I personally know how uplifting it is to surround yourself with queer folk who you can bond with on a deeper level and how these kinds of relationships have the potential to bring out your authentic self.

I’m certain that the world hasn’t even begun to see what Ami is capable of. With the right level of encouragement and support, Ami (as well as any other queer person who may also be feeling left behind) will slowly shed the years of shame they have accumulated internally, and eventually, from their cocoon will emerge the magnificent butterfly they were always destined to be. When faced with the type of society that shuns individuality, creativity and queer identities and sexualities, many young people retreat into themselves to appease the world around them, at the cost of their own mental stability and authenticity. While this choice is often made to ensure their own safety, I still dream of a world where no one has to hide their real personality from a bigoted majority who fundamentally misunderstands them. Ultimately, I hope that all my queer siblings will eventually be granted this same opportunity, so that we can see each other thrive the way we were always meant to. And if you find your place but lose it, let Ami inspire you. It is never too late for you to find it. There is still time.

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