Wherever they’re from originally, most immigrants to Japan will wonder:
- How will I be treated at work?
- Will my neighbors accept me?
- Will I be able to make friends in a new country?
But those questions take on a sharper, more urgent tone when you’re also a member of a sexual minority.
In this case, I interviewed four men who are employed in IT and are openly gay at their workplaces. Their stories paint a picture of an industry and country that is tolerant on a day-to-day basis—particularly of gay people who are not Japanese—but is also lacking the basic legal protections they need to feel truly at home.
- How accepted do gay employees feel in Japan?
- Why location matters for gay men living in Japan
- Finding a LGBTQ-friendly workplace in Japan
- Why you may be the “only” gay employee at work
- Where LGBTQ+ rights fall short in Japan
- How to support gay colleagues in Japan
How accepted do gay employees feel in Japan?
Engineering Manager Ryan Stenhouse said that how accepted you feel as a queer person in Japan probably “Depends on where you’re coming from.”
Stenhouse is originally from Scotland, which he describes as being quite laid-back. “I think the big difference [I’ve seen] is I come from a place that doesn’t really need gay bars, because we’ve had equality for a long time in Scotland.”
I’m coming from my very lucky experience maybe, but Japan just doesn’t seem to care too much. Not in a mean-spirited way, but it’s just not all that important. You being a gay person working in tech in Japan is going to be way more important to you than it is to your coworkers.
“And people probably aren’t going to ask,” he explained. “It’ll come up in a conversation, maybe, like someone will ask you about your girlfriend or that sort of thing, and then you’ll get an, ‘Oh, okay,’ and then they’ll just move on. It’s not something that’s going to be an issue.”
Software Architect Diallo Spears, who worked in Japan for eight years before returning to the US, mostly agrees with Stenhouse. “I feel like in general most of the people that I’ve spoken to are neutral to accepting with LGBTQ+ stuff.”
“But,” he added, “I feel like sometimes, in the Japanese way, if they’re not comfortable with it they’re not going to [tell you]. And I think it’s kind of a double-edged sword. The positive is that they’re not going to be actively hostile to you, but the negative is that you might just get slowly iced out without knowing why, and that could be the reason.”
Senior Software Engineer Tejas, whose home country is India, feels that he’s thriving in Japan. “My identity has actually been a fairly seamless part of my journey rather than an obstacle. I was already out and proud at my workplace in India before relocating, so being open about who I am wasn’t something new I had to navigate after moving to Japan. I simply continued being myself. . . . If anything, relocating to Japan opened doors I didn’t have before. I’ve had more opportunities to participate in and attend Pride events across Japan in Tokyo, Osaka, and Nagoya, and to build a network beyond my immediate workplace through spaces like LGBT finance networking events.”
That kind of access and visibility wasn’t something I had back in India, so in many ways, my identity has become an asset here, something that’s expanded my professional and personal community rather than limited it.
“India has its own unique history here too,” he pointed out. “Traditionally, there’s actually been more cultural acceptance toward transgender people in India. The Hijra community, for instance, has a recognized place in Indian society and history that goes back centuries, even predating a lot of the Western LGBTQ+ rights movement framework. So it’s not that one culture is simply ‘ahead’ of the other; they’ve just developed differently, shaped by very different histories, religions, and social structures. Each has its own strengths and gaps.”
UI/UX Designer Francis Miyamoto feels differently. He hails from the Philippines but is now a Japanese citizen, and feels that Japan’s approach to LGBTQ+ culture is somewhat lacking.
“In Manila, we are more expressive of ourselves culturally,” he explained, “so it seems more open and on the surface than Japan, and gays are more flamboyant or feminine than in Japan. However, it depends on how conservative or religious your family is. Luckily, even though my mom is a devout Catholic and Chinese, she still accepted me last year when I came out to everyone. I’m grateful for her unconditional love for me.
“There are also more transgender people who are visible in the streets of Manila. In Tokyo, finding transgender people is rare, and queer people tend to be stereotypically masculine or feminine depending on their gender to conform to societal norms. More fluid or feminine appearances of gay men here are less common, compared to the relatively more individualistic [presentation] in the Philippines.”
That doesn’t mean that Miyamoto is having a negative experience in Japan. “Nobody aggressively discriminates against you. They may take a look and think something, but nothing bad will be done to you, unlike in Western countries.”
Similarly, when I asked about any issues with healthcare access in Japan, none of the interviewees had experienced any discrimination or issues at clinics or hospitals, though Spears did point out that PrEP, while available in Japan, is typically not covered by health insurance.
Why location matters for gay men living in Japan
However, where you are based in Japan can make a significant difference to your happiness.
“As much as possible, move to Tokyo,” Miyamoto suggested. “Maybe Osaka is good too. These are the cities with a decent [number] of queer people, so you won’t feel so isolated like I did when I started my career in Japan in Nagoya, wanting to go to Tokyo every month.”
“Stick to the cities,” Stenhouse confirmed. He had friends who came to Japan and were posted in rural areas who did not have a good time. “You still want to be somewhere with community.”
Both Stenhouse and Miyamoto stressed the cultural importance of Shinjuku Ni-chome, which is famous for the number and variety of its gay bars. “There are about 500 different gay bars [in Ni-chome],” Stenhouse told me, “and some of them are half the size of your living room.”
This bar is just for people who like chubby guys. This bar is for people who have dogs. This bar is for Koreans. This bar is for people that like Koreans. It is like every bar has its own little niche so that you can find your own community easily.
Once you find your community, it tends to be tight-knit. “A lot of these smaller bars have a fairly dedicated clientele,” Stenhouse said. “So [at the dog bar] every summer they’ll also have a barbecue trip, where everybody in the bar will chip in 3,000 yen and they’ll go with their dogs to some barbecue place that lets pets in, and then they’ll just have a barbecue with their dogs and chill and drink, and then go back to the bar afterwards.”
“So the sense of community is a lot stronger here, I think,” Stenhouse concluded. “But it’s through necessity, right? And it’s different, and I like it.”
There’s more to joining the gay community in Ni-chome than just buying a drink or two, though.
They’re very much for local people, people who live here. They’re not set up for tourists at all. It’s important to publish that too, if I’m talking about the diversity of gay bars in Ni-chome. You’re not going to walk in off the street without living here, just get off the plane and go into the ‘We Like Dogs’ bar, for example. These places tend to need an introduction, or you need to know someone.
“So for the dog bar, I know the guy who opened it, so I can drop by sometimes to say ‘Hi,’ and have a drink. But I wouldn’t go there to drink [regularly], because I don’t have a dog.”
That’s where having a guide like Miyamoto can really help. “I’m a content creator promoting the gay nightlife in Tokyo to everyone abroad and holding guided tours in the gay district of Shinjuku Ni-chome,” said Miyamoto. “I’m well-connected and rooted with the gay community here.”
Though Ni-chome is mainly for locals, Spears noted that “One thing that kind of surprised me about the gay scene in Ni-chome specifically is that the proportion of foreigners is pretty high.”
This was something Spears discovered later, as he was not fortunate in his first placement in Japan. “When I was working in the JET program, I was working for Kanazawa City Hall [in Ishikawa Prefecture]. . . . I was worried that if I were out at work, I could potentially lose my job. So I was very closeted there, and it was very stressful.”
There are some online options, for those in similarly isolated situations. Stenhouse recommended Reddit for finding other LGBTQ+ people in Japan, while Spears eventually started using 9monsters (also known as “Naimon”), a Japanese dating app for gay men that he described as “Grindr meets Tamagotchi.”
Finding a LGBTQ-friendly workplace in Japan
Spears disliked remaining closeted at his first job, so he prioritized finding a workplace where he would feel more free to be himself.
When I left that job, I was like, ‘I want to find a company that has expressed some sort of LGBTQ-friendliness, because it’s too stressful to live this double life.’
“I remember when I was doing the screening process for Mercari,” he said, “I saw something on their website that mentioned that they have LGBTQ+ initiatives, and that was definitely bonus points for me.”
Tejas feels even more strongly about it. He suggested that knowing your company’s LGBTQ+ policies in advance is essential to working in Japan.
My biggest piece of advice would be to do your homework on the company before you go, not just the country. Since Japan’s own legal framework around LGBTQ+ protections is still lacking, in practice you end up relying heavily on the individual company’s internal policies rather than any national law protecting you.
“Specifically, look into what anti-discrimination policies the company actually has on paper regarding sexual orientation and gender identity. But don’t stop there: look up public reviews and any track record of how they’ve actually handled these issues in practice. Having a policy written down doesn’t mean much if it isn’t properly implemented, so it’s worth digging into whether the company has a real, lived history of supporting LGBTQ+ employees, not just a statement in a handbook.
“Once you’re there, if the company has a DEI network, join it. And I’d say this clearly: you don’t have to come out publicly at your workplace right away, or at all, if that doesn’t feel right for you. But finding your allies and community early, through something like a DEI network, lets you build your own safe space where you can be yourself, even quietly, and have support in place if you ever face challenges like being accidentally outed or found out in ways you didn’t choose. Having that support system ready before you need it makes a real difference.”
Since he was out already when he moved to Japan, Tejas never needed the support system in that exact way. However, he’s discovered other benefits. “What’s been an even bigger, unexpected positive is the support group of visible allies here, many of whom are also my colleagues. That’s grown stronger with time, because we don’t just work together on day-to-day business: we’ve also collaborated on the DEI network and on Tokyo Pride itself.
“Working side by side on something that matters personally, not just professionally, has created a different, more special kind of bond with these colleagues than a typical work relationship.”
Stenhouse considers himself fortunate that, as a senior developer, he can be selective about where he’s employed. If anything feels “off” during the interview, he just filters that company out.
One reason he’s cautious is that he’s found even companies that don’t actively discriminate can still be uncomfortable places to work. “At my first job, some of the office ladies were trying to set me up with a girl on a date, and I’m like, ‘No, I’m not interested. I’m gay.’
“Then they just kept asking me random questions about non-work-related things like, ‘Oh, what do you think about this celebrity or all this stuff?’ It was the only time this has ever happened, and it was weird and really not appropriate for work.
“Then a new guy started, and they tried to set me up with him. It’s like, ‘That’s a bit presumptuous, and also, it’s work. No.’”
Currently Stenhouse is employed by Treasure Data, a company he describes as “really supportive of diversity and people living their best lives regardless. It’s one of the reasons I wanted to work there in the first place. It’s just like, ‘Yeah, this place seems to get it.’ So I’m very happy about that.”
Why you may be the “only” gay employee at work
According to Stenhouse, being the only openly gay person in the office is common, particularly if most of your colleagues are Japanese.
It’s very different for Japanese people, especially if they’re from countryside families and they’ve moved to Tokyo.
“ I don’t try specifically to locate other queer folks at work,” Stenhouse added. “We end up bumping into each other anyway. The way I look at it, it’s work, and while we have this thing in common, I’d rather get to know you for work-related reasons or other reasons rather than just one part of our identity.”
But there are a few times when I’ve bumped into colleagues in Ni-chome when I’ve been drinking with friends, and they’re like, ‘What are you doing here, [Stenhouse]? Gay things?’ ‘Well, what are you doing here?’ ‘Also gay things.’
Another time, “Years and years and years ago when I was on a loo break, and I was scrolling on my phone as you do, I opened Grindr. [I thought], ‘Oh, is that him? You probably shouldn’t be checking Grindr at work, should you?’ Then I realized I am also checking Grindr at work . . . It was an interesting conversation after that.
“We were going out for drinks anyway after work that day, and he was the one that suggested we drink in Shinjuku. I was like, “Okay, let’s see where this goes.’ And we ended up going to one of the bars in Ni-chome, and he’s like, ‘Yeah, so I saw you saw me on Grindr.’”
Other interviewees also mentioned being the only openly gay employee at their workplace. After he left Mercari, Spears later joined Slalom, his current employer.
“A lot of the American or international branches have an LGBTQ+ employee resource group,” he said. “When I first joined Slalom, that didn’t exist at the Tokyo office, but about a year into my time there we were able to get it started up, and I was actually the first leader for that group.
“That being said, even though we had the group, [which] is called Prism, I was the only out person in Slalom Tokyo,” he explained with a laugh. “So I was able to connect with some other LGBTQ+ people at the Australia office, for example, but no one else in the Tokyo office was out besides me.”
Tejas isn’t the only openly gay employee—but he’s close. “I’m one of only a handful of out and proud employees at my workplace here. All of us who are visibly out actually knew each other before I even relocated, so I was already familiar with this small group rather than discovering it fresh once I got here.”
For his part, Tejas feels that being open about his identity is not only good for him, but for his Japanese colleagues. “Statistically, any given population tends to have around 10% who identify as queer, so for a multinational corporation of our size, I’m confident there are far more LGBTQ+ colleagues here than the handful of us who are visibly out.”
My hope is that, by being open ourselves, we help others feel seen, and maybe make it a little easier for them to come out on their own terms and timeline, whenever and however it feels comfortable for them.
Stenhouse also noted that, while his gay Japanese colleagues may still be reluctant to identify themselves at work, he has witnessed a cultural shift. “ I feel like over the past decade, Japanese friends have been more comfortable being open, especially in public. Maybe not necessarily at work, but I have some friends who’ve been in long-term relationships with their partners, and they wouldn’t even hold hands in public or anything, and now they do that sort of thing. So just general small changes, but changes.”
Where LGBTQ+ rights fall short in Japan
Unfortunately, while Japanese culture as a whole may be shifting toward acceptance, the legal system has not kept pace.
“I wish we had an anti-discrimination law that is comprehensive on a national level in Japan, not just municipalities,” Miyamoto told me. “[And] more equal rights in the workplace and equal opportunities too. Also, for gay marriage to be finally legalized in Japan, [since other] Asian nations like Taiwan, Thailand, and Nepal have already overtaken Japan [in that regard]. Basically, equality with our straight counterparts and fair treatment with no biases.”
Tejas zeroed in on the legal issue that has the most impact on him: same-sex marriage.
Japan remains the only G7 country without legal recognition of same-sex marriage or civil partnerships at a national level, and that gap has very real consequences for people like me. On a personal level, the single biggest thing that would make my life easier and more secure is the ability to get a spouse visa for my partner.
“Right now, the lack of legal recognition means I can’t sponsor my partner to be here with me, which is genuinely the hardest part of this whole experience.”
Though same-sex marriage isn’t legalized yet, some cities and prefectures have established legal workarounds. “I’m in Shibuya,” Stenhouse said, “so Dean [his husband] and I are Shibuya-married.”
In 2015, Shibuya was the first Tokyo ward to introduce what is called the partnership oath system (パートナーシップ証明制度, pa-tona-shippu shoumei seido). Setting up that partnership can be a convoluted process, though much of it can be done online.
“You have to go to a lawyer and you make a partnership contract, which is the weirdest thing to do,” Stenhouse explained. “It basically lists all the things that you would normally be responsible for if you were married, like looking after each other’s finances, taking care of them when they’re sick, all that sort of thing. Then you both sign the contract to say that you’re willing to do that for each other, and then the notary public notarizes it, and then you take that to the city office, and the city office says, ‘Yep, good enough. Here’s a Shibuya marriage certificate for you.’”
They also registered their partnership city-wide with the Tokyo Partnership Oath System. “It’s just a form online that gives you a certificate that you can show to a hospital that says, ‘The city says you’re good as a couple,’ which is a very interesting way of putting it.”
Same-sex partnership registration is now common across Japan. A joint survey by Shibuya Ward and Nijiiro Diversity, an Osaka-based LGBTQ+ advocacy group, found that as of 2025, 532 municipalities in Japan had partnership registration systems in place, covering over 92% of the Japanese population.
However, these partnership systems do not offer equivalent civil or legal rights to marriage. Recently Japanese courts recognized a total of 33 laws and ordinances that apply to same-sex partners, including the spousal violence prevention law and the disaster condolence grant law. But there are still an additional 120 laws and ordinances that apply to married couples but not to recognized same-sex partners, such as many of those relating to taxes and social security.
Nevertheless, Spears believes that these legalized same-sex partnerships are a sign of better things to come. “I think the march for LGBTQ+ rights is making progress slowly but surely. I’m optimistic that after a couple of years, there will be even more legalized protections.”
Hopefully that’s true, but in the meantime, Stenhouse is not particularly satisfied. “All these things help, but unless the actual core of the issue is properly legislated, it’s all just Band-Aids, and it’s all these city governments doing what the national government is kind of too cowardly and scared of frightening old people to do.”
Same-sex partnership agreements also don’t help residents like Tejas, whose partners live overseas. When I asked how long Tejas intends to stay in Japan, he said, “Part of that timeline is tied to something bigger than just me. The Supreme Court case on marriage equality is currently ongoing, with the Grand Bench having taken up the case, and a ruling expected in early 2027. I really want to wait and see how that plays out.”
If marriage equality comes through and I’m able to get a spouse visa for my partner, that would genuinely be a turning point for me in terms of considering Japan long-term.
How to support gay colleagues in Japan
“For allies who want to be visibly supportive,” Tejas said, “I’d suggest starting with engaging directly with the DEI network, by actually attending events and showing up consistently, not just in a symbolic way once a year.”
Small visible signals matter more than people realize. Something as simple as a sticker or badge at your desk, or including a small marker in your email signature or Teams picture, can quietly tell closeted colleagues that you’re a safe space, without anyone having to make a big announcement about it.
“I’d also encourage allies to actually read up on LGBTQ+ history and culture, and get familiar with terminology, rather than relying only on what a colleague tells them in the moment. And honestly,” he added, “don’t be afraid to ask questions if you’re unsure about something, rather than making assumptions. If you get something wrong, just correct yourself and keep learning. Nobody expects perfection here. It’s human to make mistakes, and what matters most is the willingness to keep growing and showing up.”
Spears also emphasized the importance of education. Allies who already know the basics can be a massive help, particularly in Japan. “If I look back to my time at Slalom when I was trying to launch these LGBTQ+ initiatives for the Employee Resource Group, whereas a lot of the other offices in other countries are able to dive right in and [say] ‘Okay we’re going to do this Pride event, we’re going to do like X, Y, and Z,” we had to really start from the ground level in Japan.”
[We had] training sessions, like ‘Okay what does LGBTQ+ even mean? What is sexual orientation? What is gender identity? What does it mean if someone identifies as transgender versus bisexual or pansexual?’ All those things.
“I think the vocabulary is really not as ingrained into people’s knowledge as it is in some other places, so I think building up that foundation is a good first step, and then after that we can dive deeper. But I think that also the more people who are in Japan and are willing to speak openly about their identity and their experiences, the more people around them will be able to know [these things] and normalize it a bit.”
Stenhouse agreed. “If you’re in a position where you can be out in your work, that’s probably the best that you can do to support everybody, especially the people that can’t be out for whatever [reason], as visibility is better than being invisible and miserable. But, that’s a privilege that [not] everybody has,” he pointed out.
“The gay community in Japan is quite vibrant, especially among foreign people. But it’s the local community that needs more support than the foreign community does, I feel, because there are challenges that Japanese people face that we don’t, and we probably won’t ever understand even if we end up with a Japanese partner.”
Just being a visible ally to other queer people and letting everybody know they’re safe around you is kind of the best way you can support everybody.
“And don’t take it too personally when your coworkers try to set you up with people,” he joked, “because apparently that’s a thing here.” If you’d like to support Stenhouse in a more concrete way, you can check out the “slightly filthy T-shirts” he sells on his website, Gay Agenda.
For Miyamoto’s part, he’d like to see more self-examination. “I just want people to reflect deeply when they see a queer person, and have a negative feeling or thought. Why do they have those in the first place? Is it the fear of the unfamiliar? Negative biases that you have learned somewhere?”
Really get to know someone who’s queer. You realize we’re all just human, wanting the same thing as you. To be loved. To be accepted. To be treated equally and our worth to be recognized.
“If you have a queer friend, check up on how they are or go hang out with them. We’d really appreciate it to forget the stress as a minority and have a good distraction every once in a while—a reminder that life is good and it gets better.”