Queer life in Donbas: hidden identities, sex with soldiers, and homophobia in the occupied territories
Parni Plus, an LGBTQ-focused media outlet, has published a long-form column exploring the lived reality of queer people in the Russian-occupied territories of Donbas — amid ongoing military conflict, radicalised homophobia, and the disappearance of any safe public space. The text was written two years ago, shortly before the Supreme Court banned the so-called “international LGBT movement”, but could not be published from inside Russia.
What Parni Plus reports
The column shows how Donbas underwent its own trajectory of sexual repression: while Russia tightened anti-LGBT policies gradually over the past decade, the L/DPR territories experienced a much harsher and faster shift — shaped by war, legal vacuum and a culture of normalised violence.
The author speaks with LGBTQ+ residents who hide their identities, seek dates in encrypted chats, struggle with internalised homophobia, and build relationships in secrecy — knowing that exposure could cost them safety, work or even their lives.
Donbas before and after 2014
Human rights organisation Memorial notes that LGBTQ+ people were vulnerable even before 2014, but the region still had some community infrastructure: clubs, NGOs, HIV centres.
After Russian-backed forces took control, the environment collapsed:
Interviewees say there are no open queer spaces left. Socialising happens through Telegram chats, the banned app Hornet, or VK — which is known to share user data with authorities.
A college student recalls how a classmate who came out was beaten, and says he has lived closeted ever since. Many dream of leaving for Europe or Ukraine, yet remain tied by family, housing or the impossibility of relocation.
Sex with soldiers as an everyday reality
The text describes how, amid the war, encounters with soldiers have become commonplace. Chats are filled with profiles of servicemen passing through the region.
Some interviewees describe exchanges like “sex for a day of leave”.
Others recount coercion by officers, or casual meetings in the dark with men who insist they are “not gay, just having fun”.
Love under prohibition
There are also stories of long-term secret relationships. One man had an eight-year affair with a married partner; they would sneak away for stolen minutes of intimacy, pretending to “feed the dog”. He describes the breakup as “howling like a wolf”.
Many live with deep internal conflicts, viewing their orientation as “a sickness” or “a swamp dragging them in”, while still seeking closeness anonymously.
The column documents a climate of invisibility and precarity: homophobia has become embedded in the local norm, war intensifies vulnerability, and the only available queer spaces are encrypted chats and occasional secret meetings.
The author requested anonymity.
Source: https://telegra.ph/Podpolnyj-kvir-Kto-i-kak-v-rossijskih-regionah-sozdaet-LGBT-iskusstvo-nesmotrya-na-gomofobnye-zakony-11-26
What Parni Plus reports
The column shows how Donbas underwent its own trajectory of sexual repression: while Russia tightened anti-LGBT policies gradually over the past decade, the L/DPR territories experienced a much harsher and faster shift — shaped by war, legal vacuum and a culture of normalised violence.
The author speaks with LGBTQ+ residents who hide their identities, seek dates in encrypted chats, struggle with internalised homophobia, and build relationships in secrecy — knowing that exposure could cost them safety, work or even their lives.
Donbas before and after 2014
Human rights organisation Memorial notes that LGBTQ+ people were vulnerable even before 2014, but the region still had some community infrastructure: clubs, NGOs, HIV centres.
After Russian-backed forces took control, the environment collapsed:
- Donetsk’s last gay club, Babylon, was stormed by masked gunmen;
- the queer-friendly art space Izolyatsia was seized and turned into a secret prison known for torture;
- attacks increased, and local authorities introduced their own “gay propaganda” law.
Interviewees say there are no open queer spaces left. Socialising happens through Telegram chats, the banned app Hornet, or VK — which is known to share user data with authorities.
A college student recalls how a classmate who came out was beaten, and says he has lived closeted ever since. Many dream of leaving for Europe or Ukraine, yet remain tied by family, housing or the impossibility of relocation.
Sex with soldiers as an everyday reality
The text describes how, amid the war, encounters with soldiers have become commonplace. Chats are filled with profiles of servicemen passing through the region.
Some interviewees describe exchanges like “sex for a day of leave”.
Others recount coercion by officers, or casual meetings in the dark with men who insist they are “not gay, just having fun”.
Love under prohibition
There are also stories of long-term secret relationships. One man had an eight-year affair with a married partner; they would sneak away for stolen minutes of intimacy, pretending to “feed the dog”. He describes the breakup as “howling like a wolf”.
Many live with deep internal conflicts, viewing their orientation as “a sickness” or “a swamp dragging them in”, while still seeking closeness anonymously.
The column documents a climate of invisibility and precarity: homophobia has become embedded in the local norm, war intensifies vulnerability, and the only available queer spaces are encrypted chats and occasional secret meetings.
The author requested anonymity.
Source: https://telegra.ph/Podpolnyj-kvir-Kto-i-kak-v-rossijskih-regionah-sozdaet-LGBT-iskusstvo-nesmotrya-na-gomofobnye-zakony-11-26