It’s my birthday and, for once, the temperature in Amsterdam is above 20 degrees Celsius, which is a treat in a city known for its moody weather. My boyfriend, a friend of his, and I have just left the International Queer Migrant Film Festival, which takes place here every year. We watched Fabulous, a documentary by Audrey Jean-Baptiste about voguing legend Lasseindra Ninja. The film follows her return to her home country, French Guiana, where she introduces the local community to the dance style of vogue fem.

The credits had barely finished when we were already trying to mimic the voguing moves we’d just seen. While the movie reminded us of familiar struggles and definitely had its punch, we now felt fabulous ourselves, too. There were still some dried tears on our cheeks, but we were simply happy, we enjoyed the moment – being unapologetically ourselves. Vogue fem is known for its limp hand moves. So, envision three gays in croptops dancing around with limp hands in Amsterdam. Imagine the joy we felt. The pride.

We ate and left crumbs – at least, after dinner, we did for real. My boyfriend’s friend craves a post-food cigarette, so he headed to the store to get some while we waited for him on the sidewalk. For me, that meant a little make-out session with my boy. Birthdays are way more fun with someone else’s tongue in your mouth.

But the kiss didn’t last two seconds.

– Move away right now!
– Filthy faggots!
– Move or we’ll come down and beat you up!
– ptui!

The last sound was the spit raining down on us. I can’t remember what really happened, where my thoughts were or what my reaction was. My boyfriend later told me that he saw the fear in my face as we ran away. The insults echoed from the beautiful Dutch architecture straight to my ears. I remember blurry faces looking down from the balcony right above us, several men, angry, screaming, and the hand of my boyfriend pulling me away.

We rushed into the closest supermarket further down the street, ducking under the fluorescent lights. I am scared that we are being followed. I flinched as an employee walked past. I wanted to cry, but I didn’t. I was shaking. Our friend found us–he’d heard the shouting too.

– Let’s call the police, my boyfriend said.

I just stood there breathing. Perhaps I was not. They both looked worried. Both my boyfriend and his friend seemed to have experienced this before. My boyfriend insisted:

– Let’s call them. I will not accept this.

I picked up my phone. My fingers were shaking a little. I dialed 112. A voice picked up:

– Hello, which city are you in? Is this for the ambulance, police or fire department?
– Amsterdam. Police.

A few seconds later.

– Amsterdam Police Department. What is your emergency?

We explained what had just happened and they agreed to send someone over. They asked us to wait on the street corner, so they could easily find us.

My boyfriend and his friend’s phones were dead. My phone was at 4%. Perfect timing. With much anxiety, we managed to take some pictures and videos of the now-deserted balcony. We knew this would help us if we wanted to push charges. Pictures and videos taken on a crime scene could be a game-changer and could be used as evidence.

After 20 anxious minutes, the police arrived. Two officers stepped out slowly. Let’s name them Dude 1 and Dude 2. After confirming they’d been briefed, Dude 1 asked:

– What do you want us to do?

I froze. I was confused. I thought they would know what to do. My boyfriend didn’t hesitate:

– We want to do what the law says.

Iconic! Now, it’s Dude 1’s turn to look stunned, then he nodded. Dude 2 arrives from behind the car. Dude 2 stepped forward and launched into a monologue about why we should not report the crime – arguing that the lawyer of the perpetrators could leak our full names and addresses, and we could be targeted later on, before concluding with a:

– That’s just something to consider before you move ahead with this…

I was in disbelief and felt fully intimidated. I did not know what to do, but I knew that was not right:

– I understand you want to inform us about risks, I replied, but you’ve just arrived here and are already discouraging us from reporting a crime. My boyfriend and I were threatened, spat on and verbally attacked.

Dude 2 hesitated for a moment, then apologized. He said that was not their intention. Slowly, both officers seemed to realize the gravity of what had taken place.

We spent nearly two hours at the scene. The police identified suspects and spoke to the residents of the building, but there was little that could actually be done. We were told to file a formal report the next day in order for the crime to be further investigated. Such formal reporting of a crime gives officers different options for investigation, such as locating phones at the time of the incident.

We got home around midnight. After some ice cream, my boyfriend said:

– I am proud of us for calling the police. We saw how the police treated the assaulted. Like, if you are gay, this is expected to happen to you. But we shouldn’t, and neither should anyone. If we didn’t report this, we would be normalizing this kind of violent behavior. We have rights and this is not normal. I am proud of us.

We have been dating for over nine months and we’ve been publicly harassed in at least 4 situations in Luxembourg and Amsterdam, once we were even chased. This was the first time that we actually reported the crime. Because yes, this is a crime and we deserve respect like anyone else. Justice hasn’t been served yet, but we know what to do next time. And yes, I am proud of us too.

As with any emergency, if you are facing an immediate threat, call 113. Just know, reporting a crime is your right, not a favour you’re asking. You deserve to be protected.

If you’re unlucky enough to face similar hate or violence, and if you feel safe, consider documenting everything — time, location, photos, videos, witnesses. You can later on decide if you want to file a police report.

If you do not want to file an official report with the police, you can also anonymously report the crime via the Luxembourg Institute for LGBTIQ+ Inclusion, lili.lu – this will not cause a police investigation, but will help to provide more accurate statistics on violence towards LGBTIQ+ people in Luxembourg.