Last time I stopped a hot woman on the street, she was not a lesbian and she was not queer. In fact, 90 percent of the Swedish population is still very heterosexual. Nobody knows for sure how many lesbians are around but according to various studies it's estimated that between 5 and 10 percent of the adult population in Sweden are LGBTQ+ individuals. What percentage of that estimated group are in fact lesbians is still a mystery. Lesbians, I would say, are a crowd of their own. Maybe it's a symptom of living as a minority and breaking norms.

If I should describe lesbians to an alien: When they are single, lesbians are super extrovert and social. When they are in a relationship? They get super introvert, move in with their girlfriend within two days (done that), and sit in front of Netflix, happy to have won the lottery: a girlfriend. Lesbians are, in other words, very complex individuals. My description to the alien would continue: And when they finally do go out, they make it clear to everyone they are a couple. The sheer power behind that one word, "girlfriend," could probably light up all of Sweden for ten years. I can’t even count on my fingers how many times former girlfriends have hugged me and whispered in my ear, "Please never leave me. I don't ever want to be in the cold again.”

So, how have we gotten to this? Am I the only one who is confused? I see the gay flag everywhere, but it feels like it’s sort of lost its meaning for us. If "gay" is supposedly so mainstream, how come I still have such a hard time meeting actual lesbians? I still have to fight for my visibility and for my perspectives. And the main question remains unanswered: Where are the lesbians?

This whole invisibility, this 'crowd of their own' thing... makes me think: Imagine the most exotic animal at the local zoo and nobody even talks about it. That’s lesbians for you. And in my opinion, lesbians are interesting – we break a patriarchal order that’s been choking mankind for thousands of years. I can't believe we don't talk more about that! As lesbians, we break tons of norms. That in itself can be exhausting. Maybe that’s part of why we’re hard to spot, or why we just want to retreat with our Netflix prize and stay invisible.

But still, I just long for more visible lesbians. I long for our perspectives. I long for what we have learned about life and what it's like to be a same-sex couple in Europe 2025. I long for stories about getting old and how you still can date and enjoy a social life. I long for stories from those who navigate the mystery of how they find their way as non-binary and trans. I want to know more about things I had no idea I needed to know. Because it adds different layers of possibilities of how to be a human being. That is exciting.

So, I hit the roads to trace the lesbians' hideouts. My argument? Lesbians are perhaps that animal everybody thinks they know. But in fact, we know very little about her. She’s not yet fully discovered. Who is she? What are her experiences? How is her love life? Has anyone asked? I can’t stress how many lesbians I have met who have left their birth country because they could not be who they are. They were not accepted. I cannot tell you how many I have met whose families have rejected them. We don't like these stories. It's 2025; it is embarrassing. And according to the norm, the lesbian world is fine and dandy.

Look, in many European countries we can get married and have legal kids. But who knows what hardship it is for my single lesbian friends to choose the father of their babies? Who knows how worried Margaret, soon 80 living in the UK, is about coming to an elderly home and not being treated with respect because her partner is a woman? I’m not here to paint misery on the door, but to open windows for a minority that has no voice despite our rights; to collect our stories and show you what's in our minds. Because I think our walk to freedom, to express freely and without shame who we are, is one of the greatest inspirational stories I have heard. Lesbians know a lot about freedom of expression. Perhaps it’s time we as a society listen?

If someone questions our vulnerability, let's take the car and drive to Hungary. In March this past spring, all Pride events were banned. On March 19th at 09:28 AM, Petra, living in Budapest, wrote to me: "You asked a question about the situation in Hungary and our feelings. I am in despair. While I never used to plan my future here, now I don’t even plan my present.”

I have also met a lot of women who have told me about their journey to find freedom to express who they are. They are courageous, intelligent, and curious, and I can’t wait until I can share some of those stories with you.

On my travels, I am also writing the story of a middle-aged woman. She is out. She is proud. In many ways, she has had a successful lesbian life. She has been to all the lesbian spaces in Brighton, San Francisco, Palm Springs, Los Angeles, Skala Eressos. She has had two lesbian marriages and been engaged a number of times. Eleven times she has paid for insemination in Copenhagen. It did not work. She has divorced twice and dated a lot! When she was born, being a lesbian was regarded as a sickness. It was not until she was nine years old that it was considered 'healthy' again. Her first job offer as a journalist she turned down because she could not imagine meeting a woman in that remote place up north of the Arctic Circle. The woman I am talking about is me. What lesbian life can I create at 55? When I go out, I am one of the oldest in the room. I am the silverfox! To be honest, it is scary as fuck.

Instead of buying a Porsche or whatever men do when a crisis hits them, I quit my job and hit the road, starting my own lesbian Sherlock Holmes investigation of lesbian spaces. And I got some wonderful news. I have met so many lesbians who have created what they have been missing. No events around? They create them – even if it means half of Somerset's lesbians ends up in their gardens. There is a force of action within the lesbian community that needs to be acknowledged. Let me introduce myself.

I'm Gry Ellebjerg, a Swedish journalist, artist, and photographer, and this website is dedicated to exploring lesbian and queer life in Europe. As I travel across the continent gathering material, I'm also sharing personal stories from my journey right here under "Lesbian Stories" in the menu.

You'll also find "The Queer List" – a growing directory of queer and lesbian spaces in Europe, including festivals, clubs, bars, events, and more. So far, I have separate lists for festivals, clubs/bars/events, and Pride Parades/Marches. Besides being a very practical tool, the lists are actually interesting because they tell us something about our public spaces. They are a documentation of our lives and our possibilities to meet in real life, connect, and share our experiences.

I'm always looking for stories! If you have a queer life story to share or would like to be a guest writer, please contact me. And be sure to sign up for the newsletter to stay up-to-date with the latest content and updates. You can also follow me on Instagram for regular updates.