A Guide for the Queer Community to Staying Safe Online
Guest post written by Rylan Hoffman (they/he) of Hoff Social. Visit Rylan’s website.
As a young kid, the internet was my escape. I can’t possibly count the number of hours I spent watching the early age of content creators, making silly videos for YouTube, and even writing articles for my own website (llama-themed, don’t ask). While I was definitely more eccentric than most of my immediate peers, this is not a rare experience when I talk to other LGBTQ+ people my age. As much as we may joke about growing up “chronically online,” there’s a nugget of existential truth hidden in the gifs and hashtags.
The outside world had (and still has) a lot of rigid instructions when it came to who we were allowed to be, how we could act, who we could connect with, but on the internet, you could do anything and be anyone. Most importantly, you could be yourself.
I was not prepared for the harsh reality of visible online queerness on a large scale when I got older. Sure, I felt relatively safe online while growing up in comparison to the outside world, but what happens when your two worlds collide? What happens when the nasty bigot in your comments doesn’t just know your first name, but has your home address?
This is the reality I faced in the early 2020s, a strange time of both severe isolation and brazen self-expression on the internet. The peak of COVID, pre-Elon Twitter, and a major tipping point for public discourse around trans issues. It was easier than ever to grow a large online presence as a queer person, but with 30M+ views per month on my accounts by the end of 2022, I was far from the happy little bubble I’d come to love.
With more eyes came more judgement, and soon my posts about queer joy, transition, and T4T relationships were made into examples by hateful actors. Photos of my community on shot day were suddenly signs of a “trans cult.” My top surgery countdown was no longer the build-up to an exciting milestone, it was proof that I’d become lost and turned to “self-mutilation.” And when that top surgery went wrong due to a neglectful surgeon, a TikTok warning to my trans siblings of that doctor was turned into a transphobic story in the right-wing press.
Worst of all, in true fascist form, my mere presence was painted as a threat to children and the country as a whole. I’ll never forget getting a message at 3am from an online mutual that my address, my parents’ address and names, my own deadname, and more had been posted on a now-defunct hate forum site. This was no longer about my image warped or my joy turned into the butt of a joke. Now I had to call my father crying, text my friends to tell them to private their pages, and in the midst of my panic, I deleted all my public accounts on the internet.
It’s been years since that terrible night, and with so many lessons learned, I returned home to the internet in pursuit of growing my social media marketing business. Even after everything, I knew how to build a community of kind, queer people. I knew how to leverage my experience to help others find success, but I knew that with that kind of success also comes risk, so part of the mission had to be centered around safety, too.
From anti-queer social media policy updates to the erasure of trans people from government websites, it’s no secret that the internet is becoming more hostile for us every day. Trolls, bots, and outright bigots are creeping at every turn, and the more empowerment you express, the more you’re seen as a threat. It can be a hard line to toe between showing up and staying safe.
If this means you need to take a step back from the digital world, you wouldn’t be alone. I’ve watched countless queer friends and internet mutuals go private, move platforms, even delete their accounts. But for other business owners, content creators, and community-seekers who rely on virtual spaces, there has to be another way. We shouldn’t have to just disappear.
This is why, during and after my own difficult experiences online, I sought out real ways to better protect myself and those I love. This was not just about preventing the occasional mean comment, it was about feeling protected on multiple levels, feeling safe to go to sleep at night in the walls of my own home. And while it’s true that there’s no absolute safeguard against digital violence like cyberstalking and doxxing, here are some ways to start building your own safety toolbox:
Curate a Calm Space
This first one may seem obvious, but it covers a wide range of skills when navigating the internet that can make it a more comfortable experience. Social platforms often have tier-based permissions when it comes to comments, so you can adjust this as needed. Maybe you want your mutuals to be able to engage, but not strangers. This is possible in your settings most of the time, especially if you’re using Meta (Instagram, Facebook, Threads). Finding safe mutuals and online communities, blocking and deleting comments from hateful users, and taking lots of breaks will go a long way.
Prevent What You Can
Once you’ve established strong boundaries and have created a trusting relationship with both yourself and others online, there are more steps you can take. Using a spare email address and setting up Google Voice to keep your personal number and email private, having multi-factor authentication on your accounts, and even setting up a virtual mailbox address for your business will all benefit you in the long run.
Have a Safety Plan
In the event of a bad situation, like being doxxed, there are various steps you can take to minimize the harm. Data broker sites like DeleteMe or Optery can remove any of your personal info that was shared online, but that’s not all. You can also go private for a brief period of time, turn on Google Alerts to monitor any posts about you, and if things escalate further, you should begin documenting threats. When I was doxxed, I even notified friends and family so they could go private, too.
Use Extra Resources
Above all, the best way to survive digital violence is having a strong support network. Free resources like this guide from NordVPN is an essential to keep in your back pocket, and don’t forget to bookmark a crisis helpline like the Crash Override Network. The best thing about resources like this? They’re completely free, run by people who understand that just because it’s happening on a screen, doesn’t mean it’s not real. Lastly, check out queer-run platforms with built-in protections like Famm Connect.
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Whether you’re a seasoned content creator or a new business owner who’s looking for more of a plan when it comes to online safety, it’s the perfect time to start protecting your information and peace of mind. Never let anyone minimize the fears you may have about becoming a target. You don’t need to have a million followers or be a household name before this becomes real. Being a queer person with interests or opinions is enough. It can be a viral video that made it to the wrong side of the internet, or a personal story that’s picked up by a hateful news outlet. You never know when or why, but it’s not some far-off hypothetical. It happened to me.
Knowing the risks of being visible is only half the battle, but with sharper skills and helpful resources, we can feel more confident being visible as who we are. I look back to the early out and queer creators who posted despite the backlash, who showed my generation that there’s nothing wrong with being gay, or trans, or bi, or anything under the rainbow flag. I needed them like the queer kids of today need us.
This next generation has to see queer joy, queer businesses thriving, queer love, and even the queer mundane. I think about a future where we all succumb to the trolls and online policies, a queer-less internet, and have no interest in it at all. Right now, we all have a choice to make, and I don’t know about you, but I’m choosing to stay while keeping myself as safe as possible.
After all, I was the kid re-blogging pride gifs on 2011 Tumblr, I was the teenager tweeting #LoveWillWin in 2015 before gay marriage was legalized, then an adult trying on different pronouns in 2020 via my Instagram bio. I grew up here, and if the internet truly is a virtual extension of our world, then just like in the world, queer people aren’t going anywhere.
Meet the Author
Rylan is a transmasc butch (they/he) content creator and social media marketing specialist based in Columbus, Ohio. They’ve spent the last 14+ years building online communities and gaining over 100 million organic views across platforms for himself and clients.
Learn more at hoffsocial.com
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