Thank you for writing this. I’m a bisexual woman who came out this year and the ‘chosen family’ thing has been hard to navigate. Some of my longterm straight friends have supported me more than those in the gay community and I’ve had one particularly bad experience of being scapegoated. Trying to stay optimistic and open minded though, and focusing on finding ‘my people’
That’s such a brave step, Yvette, and it makes sense that some bonds outside queer spaces might feel sturdier right now. Sometimes chosen family shows up in unexpected places, and those steady friendships can be part of what carries you through until new ones feel safe enough to build 🌱
The thing that’s sad to me, isn’t just that it takes us time to find our authenticity outside community guidelines. What’s sad to me is knowing there are people out there like me, including the person you described in this article, who just want to connect authentically. How do we find each other? We’re so busy being real and quiet, we don’t leave any footprints.
Even reading your articles, so few speak up. And I know there are many really valid reasons for not feeling comfortable speaking up. It’s not for everybody. But how do we find each other?
I don’t know if there is an answer to this next question, but how did the community get this way?
We can all do the math with persecution.
But from everything you’re saying, it seems to be a lot more complex than that. Where did the tides turn, when did we take a wrong turn in Albuquerque?
I’m happily married. All I ever wanted were gay friends who really engaged and participated, whose identity wasn’t completely hermetically sealed inside the gay community.
You’re naming something real, Leo. Questions matter because they push us to reflect on what’s truly important.
Many queer spaces have been shaped by survival, by scarcity, and by algorithms that reward spectacle. That noise often drowns out quieter forms of connection.
The workaround is subtle, deliberate: leave gentle breadcrumbs about your values, make time-bound one-on-one invitations, and build organic connections through what you already enjoy.
The view stats tell their own story: these posts get read. While many stay silent publicly, some have reached out to me privately. Both are promising. Normalizing a freer voice takes time, but each touchpoint moves us closer to public engagement and discourse.
Quiet people tend to find each other not through grand declarations, but through repeated low-stakes signals 🌿. I’ll be sharing a few more ways I’ve seen this happen soon 😀
Thank you for this. It really hits home. I much prefer going to breakfast with straight friends after my Saturday morning meeting rather than to brunch with a bunch of gay friends, where I feel like i have to perform. It is so exhausting and it leaves me feeling lonely. Brunch culture as a sensory assault! indeed. thank you so much. You've helped in so many ways
YES YES YES! If I had read this when I came out on the late 90s…. Thank you!
Grateful it found you now 🌈
Thank you for writing this. I’m a bisexual woman who came out this year and the ‘chosen family’ thing has been hard to navigate. Some of my longterm straight friends have supported me more than those in the gay community and I’ve had one particularly bad experience of being scapegoated. Trying to stay optimistic and open minded though, and focusing on finding ‘my people’
That’s such a brave step, Yvette, and it makes sense that some bonds outside queer spaces might feel sturdier right now. Sometimes chosen family shows up in unexpected places, and those steady friendships can be part of what carries you through until new ones feel safe enough to build 🌱
The thing that’s sad to me, isn’t just that it takes us time to find our authenticity outside community guidelines. What’s sad to me is knowing there are people out there like me, including the person you described in this article, who just want to connect authentically. How do we find each other? We’re so busy being real and quiet, we don’t leave any footprints.
Even reading your articles, so few speak up. And I know there are many really valid reasons for not feeling comfortable speaking up. It’s not for everybody. But how do we find each other?
I don’t know if there is an answer to this next question, but how did the community get this way?
We can all do the math with persecution.
But from everything you’re saying, it seems to be a lot more complex than that. Where did the tides turn, when did we take a wrong turn in Albuquerque?
I’m happily married. All I ever wanted were gay friends who really engaged and participated, whose identity wasn’t completely hermetically sealed inside the gay community.
Too many questions perhaps 😅
You’re naming something real, Leo. Questions matter because they push us to reflect on what’s truly important.
Many queer spaces have been shaped by survival, by scarcity, and by algorithms that reward spectacle. That noise often drowns out quieter forms of connection.
The workaround is subtle, deliberate: leave gentle breadcrumbs about your values, make time-bound one-on-one invitations, and build organic connections through what you already enjoy.
The view stats tell their own story: these posts get read. While many stay silent publicly, some have reached out to me privately. Both are promising. Normalizing a freer voice takes time, but each touchpoint moves us closer to public engagement and discourse.
Quiet people tend to find each other not through grand declarations, but through repeated low-stakes signals 🌿. I’ll be sharing a few more ways I’ve seen this happen soon 😀
Thank you for this. It really hits home. I much prefer going to breakfast with straight friends after my Saturday morning meeting rather than to brunch with a bunch of gay friends, where I feel like i have to perform. It is so exhausting and it leaves me feeling lonely. Brunch culture as a sensory assault! indeed. thank you so much. You've helped in so many ways