For as long as I can remember, I’ve been searching for a place where I belong. I’ve found glimmers of it over time. Like when I’d split a cab with my roommate and we’d both turn around to see the Manhattan skyline out of the back window while we drove over the Brooklyn Bridge.
Or the first time I went to a drag show and saw real live lesbians (gasp) at my local college queer club, Muthers (RIP). As I’ve gotten older I’ve come to realize that my place isn’t necessarily a city, but with my community.