What Moving Into LGBTQIA+ Senior Housing Taught Me About Belonging and Safety

Content warning: This story contains a depiction of sexual assault that may be distressing for readers.

Eighteen months ago, I moved into Oak Lawn Place, an apartment building for low-income, 55 and over, predominantly LGBTQIA+ elders in Dallas, Texas. There are 125 people currently living here (with 81 one-bedroom and three two-bedroom units) with a core group of 40, myself included, that are active in community events.

Just yesterday I looked around the community room at tables of people eating lunch, and I was amazed at how people who used to be strangers now felt like a community — my community. I am not someone who remembers people’s names, but I could name almost all the people I saw. Living here has given me not only a sense of belonging, but also provided me with safety. 

The Resource Center in Dallas, Texas, is one of the largest and oldest resource centers for LGBTQIA+ people in North America. When I heard the Resource Center was building apartments for low-income seniors at one of their events in late 2022, my interest was immediately piqued. My current living situation was tenuous, at best. I had been sexually assaulted the year before when a man pushed his way into my apartment. The new building owner stopped doing maintenance at my apartment and was increasing the rent by $100 a year. The neighborhood was going downhill fast, and I knew I had to move soon.

I immediately put myself on the list of people interested in an apartment, but I was afraid I was too far down the list to get one. Still, I persisted. I called every Friday for weeks as the building was constructed, waiting for the confirmation that they were accepting applications. And when they finally were, I was on time with all the necessary payments.

At an informational meeting in early 2023, I learned the federal Housing and Urban Development (HUD) building would be five stories, with a combination of meeting rooms, offices, and apartments (some would be ADA-compliant). While the housing, as is the case with all HUD projects, was inclusive, the Resource Center was the earliest to publicize the apartment units, so most of the apartments were expected to be occupied by LGBTQIA+ elders. After hearing our concerns about building safety, the project managers added security features such as key cards to open doors when the office was closed and to operate the elevator, so we would feel safer.

I got so sick after moving in that I took about a month to recover before I could do anything but stay in bed or walk my dog. Even so, right from the start, things were better after moving. For one thing, raises in rent were controlled by HUD, so I would no longer experience 15% jumps in rent, a contrast to my old apartment in Dallas that I had lived in for five years. I can live here as long as I qualify as “low income.”

Unlike my last apartment, I’m the first person to live in this new unit. There were massive donations from the LGBTQIA+ community to make the apartments extra nice. Every apartment has a dishwasher and a washer and dryer, plus it’s pet-friendly with a dog park in the parking lot. (My miniature poodle loves it.) The apartment is a little smaller than a standard apartment — it’s around 550 square feet compared to my last apartment of 900 square feet — but everything is shiny and new. There is even a food pantry for residents twice a month.

Every week there’s at least one, but usually two, get-togethers on the ground floor. We have “meet your neighbor” parties, bingo, meals paid for by people in the community, and holiday gatherings — all without leaving the building. The monthly calendar is posted in the hall on a cheerful bulletin board, plus there’s a resident-dedicated bulletin board for us to post things for sale, events outside the property, and other fun things.

Living someplace where pretty much everyone is LGBTQIA+ was a huge mental weight off my mind. I didn’t realize how not being able to speak freely about my life, even though I had been out since I was 20, ate at my energy level. I don’t talk about my sex life with casual acquaintances anyway, as I don’t consider it their business, but the difference between choosing not to talk about my personal life and being afraid to is profound.  

My neighbors have shared that they are so relieved to be living in an affirming space. Many don’t have transportation and appreciate the rail and bus station that is two blocks away. The Resource Center medical unit is across the street, so the people here who are clients there don’t have to worry about how they’ll get to their appointments. There is a strip mall a block away with restaurants and shops for people who like that sort of thing. Everyone I talk to regularly is so relieved to be in a safe space and so grateful.

Of course, the apartment building and community are not perfect. Every place I have lived has had challenges. But I prefer the challenges here to anywhere else I have lived in recent memory.

I count myself lucky. A recent Services and Advocacy for Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, and Transgender Elders (SAGE) survey reported that 73% of respondents have some concerns about finding an affirming place to live as an elder. Unfortunately for others, developments like Oak Lawn Place are rare. Building Oak Lawn Place alone took sustained efforts for at least a decade to raise the money, locate a suitable building site, actually build it, and recruit renters. 

There are only a few other apartment buildings like ours in other areas of the country. Not many communities can afford to build such a place. I feel lucky that the Resource Center, which recently celebrated its 40th anniversary, exists in Dallas. Hopefully, this building will serve as a template for other communities to build their own buildings for LGBTQIA+ elders.