After coming out to my parents, I packed a small bag with enough clothes to last a week and found asylum (i.e. a safe space) with a friend while displaced from my home. A week turned into two months. Two months living with five shirts, three pair of shorts, one pair of pants, five pair of underwear, two undershirts, three pairs of socks, one pair of sneakers and a hair brush. I was a nomad. I was not safe. And that trauma still lives with me until today.