One of the most important things you can offer young queer and trans people is a safe place to simply exist. A place to be themselves, free of harassment or questions or stares. To just be. And to perhaps even imagine a future – a hopeful one, even. Since 2022, Netflix’s Heartstopper has been that metaphorical place for many viewers.

Originally created as a web comic and graphic novel by Alice Oseman, the coming-of-age British show has captured the hearts of countless viewers, who become enraptured with the love story between Charlie and Nick (played by Joe Locke and Kit Connor, respectively).

But it’s not just those two. The show features several love stories. There’s the romantic connections between Tara and Darcy (Corinna Brown and Kizzy Edgell) and Tao and Elle (William Gao and Yasmin Finney). And then there’s the strong friendships forged between characters like Isaac (Tobie Donovan) and James (Bradley Riches). We also see the ways adults can become those safe spaces for young people: Nick’s mother, Sarah, models how to be a supportive, loving parent to a kid who’s struggling with coming out. And where would Charlie be without the constant support of his teacher, Mr. Ajayi (Fisayo Akinade)?

So it’s especially sad that this show, created by and starring numerous queer and trans people, is ending. In Heartstopper Forever, though, we get one last chance to enter this world and remember all the ways we, as LGBTQIA+ folks, can and must continue to look after one another.

The final installment opens with Charlie becoming the new Head Boy of his class (something akin to being a Class President). He’s making it his mission to work against the bullying culture of bullying that ran rampant at Truham Grammar School and drove him to eating disorder and self-harms. By the finale, Charlie isn’t free from every struggle – but he is empowered. He has tools – thanks to the safe spaces of his supportive friends, teachers, and therapists – to help him figure out the difficult experiences ahead.

In one scene, Charlie decides to create a support group for other queer, trans, and questioning boys and nonbinary kids at his school. Even when it doesn’t initially get the green light from the headmaster, he finds a way to make it happen. It reminded me of the LGBTQIA+ support group a counselor at my high school created. We would get pulled out of class for a “meeting” (in order to not be outed), and got to go and hang out in a random classroom together. There was no specific agenda. No pressure to do anything other than be ourselves.

This sort of resource is unthinkable in some parts of our country these days, including in my home state of Florida, where the local government has gone to great lengths to try to erase queer and trans people from publicly existing, particularly in schools. To watch what Charlie manages to do, at a time when LGBTQIA+ are having to fend off attack after attack, is inspiring. And he does this because he’s managed to grow and find hope thanks to the safe people and places in his life.

In another scene, Elle, Tao, and the rest of their friend group are all preparing to attend Pride celebrations. Charlie, however, is feeling less excited because of the aftermath of a misunderstanding. Elle reminds him how much trans rights have been under attack in the UK and beyond, how difficult things have been for her as laws continue to pop up in an attempt to erase her. And we see how Charlie recognizes that Elle and the community on the whole need people like him to show up. Heartstopper, once again, reminds us that while we can hope that the world will change, we are the ones who have to look out for one another.

At another point in Heartstopper, an older gay couple enters the coffee shop where Charlie is working. Charlie offers them a piece of cake, and one of the gentlemen quickly declines, stating that they don’t eat cake because his husband is diabetic. But the husband reminds that only one of them has the condition and urges his partner to eat it anyway. They go on like this, and eventually, one of them says, “We look after each other.” It’s a simple statement, but one that reminds both Charlie and the audience of how we keep each other safe.

While some viewers may lament the obvious changes in the Heartstopper finale (a bigger emphasis on Nick and Charlie, sidelining the rest of the usual ensemble cast, the lack of Olivia Coleman, and more sexual content – these are now young men in a long-term relationship), the heart of it is still the same. It’s still a show about the LGBTQIA+ experience, from the point of view of young people figuring out how to exist in a world that doesn’t always welcome them. It’s still a show about overcoming hate and anger with love and kindness. It’s still a show about finding your safe people and places, and holding onto them tightly, even if some of them are only in our books or on our screens.