Many colorful flags adorn the door of our Makom walk-in centre today. An equally colorful "womanized" reception welcomes all visitors with a big smile. On the table is a kit of nail polish, eyeshadow and lipstick, free to be used by all who attend. As cheerful as this all sounds, there is a tremendous urgency for shelter and protection behind this. In a world that is often harsh and judgmental for them. Today, as every Thursday, Makom is a walk-in centre for homeless LGBTQ+ men and women.
Fernando (32) has Dutch and Dominican roots and grew up in Caribbean St. Maarten. Twenty-two he was when he came to the Netherlands to study dance at Amsterdam's Hogeschool voor de Kunsten. "That was a culture shock at first, but became one of the best experiences. The training breaks you to rebuild you. They helped me find blockages I didn't even know I had and break through them." Until everything changed overnight for the twenty-something. "In my third year of college, my mother died, in Paris, and I had a week to sort everything out." With an online fundraiser, he raised ten thousand euros for the cremation. Despite that, all the organizing cost Fernando a lot of money, so he went into debt and had to quit his studies. "I ended up in a deeper and deeper hole. Over a period of two or three years of trying to hold on, without being able to grieve, my debts kept growing and I was eventually kicked out of my house. I was homeless and had no idea where to go."
Small Family
Through the Street Alliance, Fernando ended up at our AMOC-West walk-in centre on Transformatorweg. "You're in somewhere. Only I didn't feel safe there at all and the eyes burned on me as a little black man with nail polish on. I could also spend the night there, but was afraid of what would happen then and how I would have to fight to survive." Our small-scale night shelter for LGBTQ+ individuals in Princehof turned out to be a more suitable place for Fernando. During the day, Princehof is a regular walk-in centre for homeless people, and at night, 12 people from the LGBTQ+ group can sleep there. Since October 2025, Fernando has spent the night here. "Princehof has really brought relief. At first I had to conform. I am not at all used to being homeless and living on the streets. Mentally, I had so much to deal with. I kept crying because I was in such a space and had countless meltdowns. But after a month or two, I realized that this place was better for me than most other places. Without literally having it, I was able to occupy my own space here. People saw what I needed and left me alone. At Princehof we help each other while respecting each other's boundaries: what do you want to talk about or not? That's how we grew into a little family."
Visitor LGBTQ+ shelter Fernando
Admitted for the first time
.But today we are at Makom, which is a regular walk-in centre all days of the week except Thursday, that is, the special walk-in day for homeless LGBTQ+ men and women. Here, social worker BeyonG is the regular beacon. Fernando: "BeyonG was the first one I could really say something to. Not only did I feel heard for the first time, I also felt understood. Even though I had told so many friends, it was through BeyonG that I dared to admit my feelings. I repelled it, the sadness, the fall. I didn't want to fall into those depths and no longer be able to function. Through BeyonG, I am now enrolled in trauma therapy. I became different than I was. I was a social butterfly. But when my mother died, I collapsed. BeyonG is a big pillar in my life. I have enough friends outside the shelter, but at the shelter I met such beautiful people where I don't have to keep my mask on."
Risk
What is the biggest difference from regular shelters? Fernando: "Your privacy as an LGBTQ+ person. In a regular shelter you are studied, followed, nudged. During the day it's watching, watching, joking, joking, and that gets more and more out of hand. Also, in such a shelter, everyone fights for themselves. Everyone pushes for their own place, making people uncivilized. For LGBTQ+ people, that's risky. Most of them are very vulnerable. It was also such a relief to go from AMOC-West to the LHBTIQ+ night shelter in Princehof. At AMOC-West I could never be as myself as I am now at the special shelters in Princehof and Makom." Fernando is extroverted and an artist, but authentically himself, as well as introverted to recharge, he says. Soon at two o'clock he will give a vogue dance class at Makom for the third time. That way he can give something back to the shelter. Just like Jessica (48) does by assisting others and cooking at the LGBTQ+ night shelter in Princehof. Fernando asks her in to share how he has changed from the moment he entered Princehof. Jessica: "At first he was very shy and closed, but when he noticed that we treated him as an equal and he got to know us better, he opened up more and more. We let him know that he is not alone. Furthermore, I helped him with medication and guidance to places of care. I help where I can, as best I can, even if I need help myself." From all by himself, Fernando has transformed into "the momma" of the group, the two of them conclude whooping. And Jessica is then "the grandmomma". Fernando: "We're all here together. One time I arrived and my bed was already made. We also celebrate each other's birthdays and sometimes give gifts to the staff. We're just really a family."
Visitors Fernando and Jessica at LGBTQ+ shelter at Makom walk-in centre
Another failure
In closing, Fernando candidly tells us that he made several suicide attempts after his mother died. "I needed a stopping point. If it wasn't for De Regenboog's LGBTQ+ shelter, I don't think I would have made it." Now Fernando has perspective again, but he had to work hard for it. "Self-care and self-actualization, with the help of the people at Princehof and Makom. They also found a dance studio for me to rehearse. I used to dance 24/7. If I felt bad, I went dancing and always felt better. So when that went away ... Dancing again had such a big impact on my mental health. Without the people at De Regenboog, I wouldn't have had the energy and motivation to move forward. I am so grateful to them for that." Through our project Back2Work, Fernando is currently taking both a programming and a design course. "I am now doing things to improve myself in this situation. Eventually, I want to pick up my education again and get my degree."
Social worker LGBTQ+ shelter BeyonG
.Less stress and more security
.BeyonG (40), herself transgender, has been a social worker at De Regenboog Groep's LGBTQ+ shelter locations since April 1, 2025. Before that, she helped set up the LHBTIQ+ night shelter as a day coordinator at Princehof. She has also worked at LGBTQ+ organizations Safe Haven and COC. In 2017, she even won the Jos Brink Innovation Award (LHBTIQ+ emancipation). So a true pioneer in the field of LGBTQ+ rights. She has one big dream, or mission actually: a specific shelter or care farm for trans people. BeyonG: "Since January 2025 we have been running the special LGBTQ+ night shelter in Princehof, also to show that this group needs its own walk-in centre. Own space and privacy really pay off: less stress and more safety. Especially with transgender people or if you are very vulnerable." BeyonG also begins about the sense of family at the special shelters. "LGBTQ+ people experience the feeling of no longer being alone here. That connection works empowering. One example ... During the day, Princehof is a regular walk-in centre. Then fifty men sit there and there is a different energy. Then when the overnighters come in there in the afternoon already in a group, you see them stronger together." BeyonG says Princehof is safe, but you do notice micro-aggression during the day.
Lost confidence
Self as transgender, BeyonG also gets a lot to deal with. That is why she does not walk hand in hand with her partner in many places in Amsterdam, she says. "With this, I consciously choose safety. With groups of men I often walk around the block. Not long ago I was spat on by two guys and they threw a bottle at me, just because I walked by." In her work, it actually helps her. "Because I'm trans myself, people often feel immediately safe and are an open book. It helps to gain trust. Usually you have to make LGBTQ+ people believe there is a system where there is help for people like them. Because so many times they have run into walls in the mainstream help system. First they were thrown out by family. Then discriminated against, missed. As a result, trust in help is completely gone. I've even seen people go back to an unsafe country because they felt just as unsafe here in the regular shelter." BeyonG wants to pass along to people to keep believing in themselves. Sometimes it seems like we are alone on this journey, but we are not. Know that we can get the right info and help." At the same time, BeyonG feels that there are too few places like Princehof and Makom and advocates wholeheartedly for a dedicated 24/7 LGBTQ+ shelter location.
Visitor and helper LGBTQ+ shelter Juan
Active for the LGBTQ+ community
Long aware of what was to come, Juan (42) left America three years ago. In the Netherlands, he came to our walk-in centre AMOC-Zuid. "That was the first step, before other doors to help opened." Juan talks about his experience as a gay man at this regular shelter. "I was okay because I could pass for straight, but others didn't. People who came across as more queer or flamboyant were harassed or even assaulted outside. There is too much trauma in the shelter. Russian people, Eastern Europeans, all are heavily traumatized. That is not an environment for LGBTQ+ persons. I wasn't in the closet, but I didn't talk about it either. That's why I was tolerated. When I figured out how my community was treated and started talking about it, it resulted in me being chased and they started molesting my bike. Then they would deflate my tires and unscrew screws." The positive effect was that people from the LGBTQ+ group came to Juan and began to see him as a kind of anchor. "At that time, together with Anika, site head of AMOC South, the idea for a focus group was born. Which then grew into more and more days." So when Anika wanted to start this special Thursday at Makom, it was right up his alley and he helped. In America, Juan was just as active for his community. "There I dealt with the issue of homelessness within the LGBTQ+ community and organized awareness events at the university," he said. Five years ago, the Don't Say Gay legislation was introduced in America, which prohibits talking about sexuality or gender in schools. By law, if teachers find out you are gay, they must tell your parents. And it only gets worse with initiatives aimed at curbing care for transgender individuals. The next step is for people with disabilities like autism to be denied help to function in society." His "different" view of the situation in America has resulted in Juan losing many friends. "There is no more dialogue. Also, I no longer have contact with my brothers." His father lost Juan to cancer when he was 11, and his mother died of Alzheimer's a few years ago. In America, Juan did a lot of caring for his ailing parents. "The care there is so bad. I used to help my mother shower, for example. My brothers didn't want to do that: 'They couldn't see their mother's breasts, could they? The gay ones did ...'"
De Regenboog means a lot
.When asked how Juan feels about the help for LGBTQ+ people in the Netherlands, he replied, "Because they often don't end up completely on the streets because of their networks, there is not enough help. There are also people who fled from other countries, because it was not safe to be themselves there, who are harassed and abused here by the same community they fled from. That there is no shelter of their own for them is super sad. And then what happens? A flight into alcohol and drugs. And so they then find themselves not far from homelessness." The fact that Juan is being helped and able to help at De Regenboog means a lot to him. "It has given me the opportunity to share and be busy a lot. Otherwise, I would have been much deeper after my mother passed away. That was the last living person to kick my ass. The rest I don't have anymore."
The door of our walk-in centre Makom on Thursday
.Figures?
No figures are known about the number of homeless LGBTQ+ people in the Netherlands. In the research published in 2020 by Movisie it was estimated that there are at least one thousand to two thousand homeless LHBTIQ+ youth (up to age 27) in our country. This same study found that their situation is very worrisome: few safe spaces in shelters and bullying, violence and abuse are more common. In addition, homeless LGBTQ+ youth are often rejected by family, their immediate environment and/or their faith community. Escalation can occur when they want to explore or express their LGBTQ+ identity, preventing them from living safely at home. This can happen even in a fairly stable home situation.
Since January 2026, an average of 20 visitors have come to the special drop-in day at Makom, of which 15 are LGBTQ+ people and five are women. According to the ETHOS census published in October 2025, there are between three and four thousand homeless women in the Amsterdam region, one hundred and twenty (4%) of whom reside in public spaces and over eight hundred (24%) in homeless shelters. Many homeless women say they feel safer among women and are more likely to dare to step out for help in such a setting.
Where?
Walk-in House Day for LGBTQ+ people and women at Makom
- Thursday, between 10 a.m. and 4 p.m.
- Van Ostadestraat 153, Amsterdam
Daily night shelter for LGBTQ+ people in walk-in centre Princehof
- Oudezijds Voorburgwal 165, Amsterdam
- Subscribe via social worker De Regenboog Groep .
- Or through GGD: Jan van Galenstraat 323, entrance B (Mon-Fri, 14:00 - 16:00)
Text: Jola Gosen | Photography: Ewa Wielgat