I treasure the experience of canvassing my home on the Beara peninsula. The memory that still lifts my heart to this day was hearing a lady, long into retirement, quietly but firmly say: “I’ll be voting yes, as I think everyone should just be happy”.

There was a hope in 2015, as we cheered loud and proud and wept on that great day in May at Dublin Castle, that gone forever was the fear and shame of being LGBT+ in Ireland. That our trauma and our grief had been listened to and understood, that our lives would no longer have to be hidden away.

Maybe I could now hold hands in public with a boyfriend walking down a street? Or maybe I can have a conversation on the bus about a cute guy without fearing a homophobe will overhear? 

"Surely, after such a transformative national dialogue, that the tide had turned towards one of acceptance of LGBT+ people in Ireland? And yet...

There was a sentiment heard after the referendum of “well, that’s that now, no more need for Pride and all that”. 

In the minds of some, the passing of the referendum meant job done, nothing more to do here for this group.

But as any LGBT+ person reading these words will know, that is sadly not the case. Nearly seven years on from the referendum, the news this week should be a wake-up call for all in Ireland that our journey for equality with you did not end in May 2015.

The loss of Aidan Moffitt and Michael Snee in Sligo came in the wake of the serious assault on Evan Somers, another gay man, on Dame Street, only a short distance from the LGBT+ nightclub The George, right in the heart of our capital city.

These tragic events highlight that homophobic hate crimes are not just a rural or urban issue. As someone who straddles both West Cork and Dublin, there can be sharp differences between living in the two, but also commonalities.

There is the all too familiar story of young, closeted, rural gay men, moving to cities like Dublin for college and work, who find themselves in a bustling LGBT+ scene to explore. These experiences often give these people the strength to come out and settle in such urban spaces where they can be themselves. I know that going to college in the University of Limerick gave me the confidence to come out to my family and friends.

With many young, rural gay men leaving for the cities, those remaining can be older and more isolated from LGBT+ spaces, and, in often highly interdependent communities, they may prefer to keep their sexuality private. You’re not so much the only gay in the village, but more likely the only out gay in the village.

However, I should say that I know plenty of out gay men in Beara, single and in relationships, who are thriving in their communities, jobs, or businesses. Just like some gay men living in Dublin, they like living there, it is their home, and it is where they feel most comfortable.

The arrival of LGBT+ dating apps in the late 2000s did change up the social dimension entirely for LGBT+ people. No matter where you lived, you could connect with other LGBT+ people that were in your general area. Now, a rural gay man could easily chat with another that might be 15kms away, making it easier to find friends and socialise.

These apps were widely used by LGBT+ people years before similar ones were adopted by straight people, as it importantly offered a safe way to chat to others like them. 

But due to the news this week, that safety for many has been shattered. How many will retreat from using those apps over the fact that they now fear for their own safety?

We’ve heard in these last few days three tragic stories of homophobia in this country, and these are only the ones that we know. Just as violence against women cannot be solved without the help of men, violence against LGBT+ people cannot be solved without the help of straight people.

You extended your solidarity to us in May 2015, please do not let it fail at a time when we need you again.

- If you are affected by any of the issues raised in this article, please click here for a list of support services.

• Ciarán O’Driscoll, originally from Castletownbere, West Cork, has lived in Dublin City since 2012