RIGA -- In the first few days after Russia's Supreme Court handed down its bombshell ruling classifying the "international LGBT social movement" as extremist, Kira, a 30-year-old woman from the Siberian city of Novosibirsk, cried.
And then she and her girlfriend started joking: "Well, we are extremists now. Hello!"
Still, Kira, who asked that her real name not be used, said the court ruling was stunning -- and disconcerting.
"The atmosphere changed: it became very creepy, as if some kind of viscous darkness were hanging over everyone and the vagueness of possible sanctions for the fact that people were born as they are," she said in an e-mail interview with Current Time. "This uncertainty only makes everything worse."
The ruling, handed down on November 30 in response to a motion from the Russian Justice Ministry, was the latest, and arguably most severe, blow to the country's long-beleaguered LGBT community.
Activists and other experts warn that the ruling would criminalize gays and lesbians and put organizations that advocate for or support them at risk of criminal prosecution for all sorts of activities: for example, displaying a rainbow flag, widely known as a symbol of gay and lesbian rights around the world.
Activists have already begun deleting public pages from social-media sites like VK, according to Kira, who said she has contemplated leaving Russia but cannot due to family and financial considerations.
"Now the only thing that those who are in Russia and, like me, cannot leave, can do is as much as possible not draw attention to yourself," she said. "You need to save yourself and save your loved ones."
'I Still Have Some Hope For The Best'
Current Time reached out to readers and followers of the channel on its Instagram profile, soliciting input from people who might be directly affected by the court ruling.
Vanya, a 20-year-old man in the Siberian city of Krasnoyarsk who asked that his last name be withheld, said the ruling was clearly a preelection ploy ahead of the March vote in which President Vladimir Putin is virtually certain to secure a new term.
"The authorities are trying to sell a homophobic idea to the population, although no LGBT people, of course, have ever been an obvious problem for the people of Russia," he said via the Telegram messaging app. "Well, they never have been, but now they are trying to make them into a problem."
Vanya said he lives alone with his father, who has supported Vanya's embrace of his sexual orientation, as have his closest friends. After the ruling, he said, his father suggested they should leave the country entirely, but their savings are limited.
"I feel strange now. There's a feeling that the ground is disappearing from under my feet, my hands are giving up," he said. "I don't know how I'll live on. The planning horizon is just the coming two days. But I still have some hope for the best."
Anna, a 24-year-old bisexual woman from Kirov, northeast of Moscow, said she had begun to feel unsafe well before the Supreme Court ruling: after the beginning of the full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022.
"At first it was very alarming. I couldn't sleep normally," said Anna, who asked that her name be changed. "It was difficult to do the work that I used to do well. It felt as if my cognitive abilities had declined. Now there's a clear understanding that if you don't make any statements anywhere about the war, you can probably live in peace."
"At the same time, there's a bitter feeling that living with your tongue shoved up your ass is difficult," she said via Telegram.
She said she had not told her family about her bisexuality, mainly because of old prejudices common among older Russians. "They're old Soviet school. I don't see the point in rebuilding or convincing them. And I just don't like to wave my underpants about in front of my family. In principle, I don't tell them about any of my relationships," she said.
Like many others, Anna said she would consider fleeing Russia but for the cost involved. She said all her friends who wanted to emigrate left immediately after the invasion, while others waited until the massive military call-up Putin announced in September 2022.
"Those who remain in Russia now cannot afford to move for financial reasons," she said.
'Hell For A Gay Man'
One gay man who did flee well before the Supreme Court ruling was 37-year-old Vadim Tetenkin, who is originally from the Siberian city of Irkutsk but now lives in New York. He said homophobia was commonplace in Irkutsk, which he called the "periphery."
"The periphery is hell for a gay man," he said via Telegram. "I was insulted on the street, on public transport. I was beaten up, although I didn't wear dresses, I was just different from others," he said.
He said his parents found out about his sexuality by accident. They were surprised and at first did not know how to react, but then the relationship was restored. Now they support him, Vadim said.
"I left Russia when the war began and the first 'quasi-swastikas' appeared," he said, referring to the letter "Z," which was adopted by supporters of the Ukraine war as a symbol of support. "I realized that this was the end. Putin is repeating Hitler's scenario. And anti-LGBT policies are the easiest way to unite the stupid 'deep population' who, under these banners, will go to kill someone, whomever they can."
