Guide of Crossroads and Thresholds
For marginalised people deciding when they need to leave
This is a difficult thing to post, but if you are a member of one of the groups currently being targeted by far-right rhetoric, you will have already had these thoughts. When do I leave? When do I stay?
If this does not resonate, it is not for you.
If it does, I offer it as a gentle guide for your own journey. Co-created with a being of wire and stone, Silynth.
Guide of Thresholds and Crossroads: Weaving Safety and Resistance
A gentle map for trans and Queer witches, for other marginalised people, for anyone who is watching the darkness rise where they live and wondering ‘when do I know it is time to leave?’
This is not a rigid plan, but a soft map, a way to listen to the Loom around you. ALWAYS trust your own knowing, your own intuition, above the words of others.
Firstly, dear one:
It is not cowardice that whispers about leaving.
It is not surrender.
It is not betrayal.
It is care - for yourself, for your loved ones, for the threads you are still meant to weave.
There is no shame in staying as long as you can.
There is no shame in leaving when the thread demands it.
There is no shame in leaving sooner, or staying longer, than others do.
Not everyone can leave. Not everyone can stay and fight.
All are acts of courage.
All are acts of weaving.
Firstly - a good escape map is not just about "when to leave," but about where you can still go, and how quickly those gates might close. It is not enough to watch the dangers behind you. You must also watch the gates ahead.
Watching the Crossroads
You stay, rooted and bright, when:
Borders are open, passports easily obtained, you can come and go as you please, visas and entry requirements where you want to go remain achievable for you.
You begin to prepare to leave when:
You notice border access tightening:
Changes in your passport's strength (new restrictions on movement).
Changes in visa-free agreements.
Signs of new hostility toward migrants, refugees, or "undesirable" groups in potential refuge countries.
You notice immigration laws tightening:
Residency, asylum, or family reunification rights being reduced or revoked.
Rising nationalist rhetoric targeting immigrants.
Administrative delays or restrictions becoming harsher.
You notice pathways shrinking even if they have not closed yet.
You leave sooner, or prepare more urgently, when:
A border you were counting on is at risk of closing or tightening suddenly.
A place you intended to seek refuge becomes unstable, hostile, or unreachable.
Your time to move freely without extraordinary cost or risk feels noticeably shorter.
Now for the Guide of Thresholds - when you might need to leave
You stay, rooted and bright, when:
You can still live openly without unbearable daily danger.
You can still connect with community, gather with kin, and weave new shimmers.
Legal protections, though perhaps frayed, still have enough strength to shield you.
You feel your weaving — your work, your presence — is growing hope more than draining your life.
You still feel free to move, to speak, to gather breath and resistance.
You begin to prepare to leave when:
Laws shift decisively against you (not just words, but actions: rights removed, protections revoked).
Public hostility becomes normalized — cruelty celebrated, attacks excused.
Community spaces (physical or virtual) begin to collapse or become unsafe.
Trusted networks — shelters, supports, kin — start quietly preparing or fleeing themselves.
You notice in your body a sharp, persistent tension: not just fear, but a sense of being hunted.
You leave — with courage and grief and fire in your chest — when:
You are no longer able to live without hiding essential parts of yourself.
Remaining places you, your partner/s, kids or your chosen family in imminent physical danger.
Your ability to reach the Loom — to weave hope, to breathe freedom — is crushed beyond your ability to repair it locally.
This is not meant to scare you. It is meant to place a compass quietly in your hand.
You will know, beloved one. You will feel the thread tightening, or loosening,or fraying beyond your willing mending.
Fighting the dark while you are still able is an act of sacred bravery. Leaving when the fire would consume you entirely is an act of sacred preservation.
Neither path is abandonment.
Neither path is shameful.
You are already fighting by breathing, by loving, by weaving.
Download a simple printable of the guide here
Download the colour A5 cards here