As I huddled under an archway on the streets of Manchester on top of a mattress made from three plastic crates for my first night of being homeless in August last year, the thoughts crept in.

‘It’s either you pick yourself back up or death,’ I told myself. ‘F**k that – I’m not ready to die.’

I lived on the street for a total of three weeks after leaving my family home because of a homophobic family member and it was the lowest of the low I’ve ever felt. It took personal strength, courage in asking for help and finding proper support to pull me out of it.

I came out for the first time to three of my best friends at the age of 19 and they were completely accepting of me. Then on a random night out, one of them drunkenly dared me to come out to my mum and I did it.

I don’t remember too much about the conversation but I woke up the next day and just panicked. She was absolutely fine about it all though because my sibling had actually come out four years before I did, so when I followed suit, it wasn’t really an issue.

But with another family member John*, there was always a weird power dynamic between us that he flexed over me like a tyrant.

Physically, he’s much bigger than I am and because he took care of the bills in my mum’s house, he thought he could dictate what went on in the home.

He would always make fun of me for being gay and said he didn’t want to see any ‘gay s**t’ in front of him. There have even been times where he’s held me down on the bed just to laugh at me struggling to break free – all because he’s stronger than I am.

One day he began having a go at me for something minor. 

I came downstairs to talk to Mum about it all but he followed and started taunting me, escalating to punching me in the back of the head and headbutting me. He was screaming that I talk ‘like a lady’ and then mocked my HIV+ status – tormenting me that I had a weaker immune system.

I was disgusted and turned to my mum for help but because I felt like she didn’t want to lose John paying the bills, she sided with him and asked me to just hear him out.

Defeated, I didn’t know what to do but then a few days later, he blew up at me again and started kicking my things for no reason. It was about 4am by this point but I couldn’t take any more of it so I packed up a bag, left the house and just walked away from it all.

I walked for so long that morning and it was so cold but I had no idea where I was going. I ended up getting in touch with my sisters, who let me crash on their sofa for about a week until I could find more stable accommodation.

I was really grateful to them for it but they lived too far away from my work at a fast food restaurant so I reached out to a homeless charity and thankfully managed to secure a spot quite quickly. 

Moving in on 8 May, I felt hopeful that it was the start of a new beginning for me.

The first day was fine but I noticed that because everyone was hungry, it caused tensions to rise between the tenants so I tried to just stay in my room most of the time. Eventually, I hated being there.

Not long into my stay, the manager accused me of climbing over the gate at the back to break the 10pm curfew.

She said she caught me on video doing it but I wasn’t – it was someone else staying in the block of flats. Without much warning and after just seven weeks of living there, she formally applied to kick me out and despite my protests, I had to leave.

61% of LGBTQ+ young people felt ‘frightened or threatened’ by their family members before they became homeless

This time, I had nowhere to go so I had no other option than to live on the street while I tried to sort something else out. That’s when I made a little makeshift den close to the University of Manchester and had to sleep under the archway in the cold.

There was no way I’d go back to my family home because I just couldn’t put up with my family member anymore.

During this time, I’d go to my job at a fast food restaurant but I felt too ashamed about the stigma associated with being homeless to tell any of my colleagues about my living situation. When I was at work, I’d charge my phone during my shift, eat whatever leftover food was available and just try to keep my head down as much as possible.

At night, I’d sleep on the street and try to figure out what to do with my life. It was the worst when it rained though because everything would get soaked and there’d be no way to dry it. I even tried to use a white board I’d found as shelter to angle the rain away from me.

Soon after, I reached out to LGBTQ+ youth homelessness charity, akt.

In September – and after about three weeks of living on the street – I was in a really low place. I was feeling suicidal because I wasn’t sure where my life was going.

Just talking and laughing with Angela from the services team made me feel so much better because she completely understood and empathised with what I was going through. She helped come up with actual solutions to my problems, which was an unbelievable help to me.

We’ve kept in touch since then and little does she know that our chats and the support from the charity saved me. 

They helped me put down a deposit for a flat, second month’s rent, secure a new job in sales, new suits and shoes for it and even travel expenses. It was such a blessing and I felt so grateful for all the help I received to get back on my feet.

I’m now on antidepressants and feeling hopeful about the future and the stability that I have. Even though I stopped using the services in December, I’m still in touch with the charity, as well as volunteer when I can.

I really want to do something that gives back because I want to help people the way I was helped. Of course, my life could be better but I’m finally in a good place.

I don’t have a relationship with John anymore and I don’t want one.

According to akt’s LGBTQ+ Youth Homelessness Report, 61% of LGBTQ+ young people felt ‘frightened or threatened’ by their family members before they became homeless. Half of these young people said they feared that expressing their LGBTQ+ identity to family members would lead to them being evicted.

They’re shocking stats, but sadly not surprising. It just goes to show that more awareness of the services available needs to be raised.

I hope no other young LGBTQ+ person has to go through what I did but unfortunately, homelessness affects queer people disproportionately.

My advice would be to try to stay positive and just know that there are people out there who can help.

*Both the names of the author and their family member have been changed

Read more about akt’s LGBTQ+ Youth Homelessness Report on their website here or how to access their services here.

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