The thing about dating, as a queer person 

Dating is complicated, difficult, frustrating yet oftentimes incredibly rewarding. In those ways, LGBTQIA+ dating isn’t any different from heterosexual/cisgender dating, but there are a lot of ways in which it’s incredibly difficult or confusing. 

For the purposes of this article, “queer,” “gay” and “LGBTQIA+” are used relatively interchangeably. Although “queer” has formerly been an insult, positive usage of it takes away some of that power it has against people. The “queer community,” to me, is a more casual way of saying the “LGBTQIA+ community.” 

I realized I was gay about a week after I turned 14. I only called it “gay” — and sometimes “queer” — because the term “lesbian” felt wrong to me. It almost felt too simple, especially since I had always been tomboyish. It felt oddly…girly? 

Two and a half years later, after I had started and ended my first queer relationship, I had developed a crush I didn’t understand. I was 16, and I suddenly realized I was bisexual. While grappling with the idea of being a lesbian felt uncomfortable and restraining, bisexuality felt free and a lot more open. I got to pick and choose exactly what “bisexual” meant for me, as opposed to feeling trapped behind door number one. 

Being “out” in general was also very odd. I had come out a little early before I really knew what I was coming out as. I’ve also had short hair for years, so a part of me knew that when people saw me, they’d place a label on me immediately. They would assume they knew something about me. That felt even worse. 

I’m a little sick of the “coming out story,” frankly. Sometimes it feels like every piece of queer media in the world wants to cover the same talking points of this near-universal situation for the gays of the world. 

Coming out is important. It’s not necessary, but it’s important. It’s a milestone, for some people. But it’s not the only thing that matters to a queer person. 

My “coming out story” is a bit of a mixed bag. My parents have been divorced for as long as I can remember. Telling my dad and my stepmom was incredibly easy, telling my mom was tough but ultimately fine, and telling my stepdad and stepsisters was awful. I don’t even remember what they said. I just remember being laughed at.  

The thing about dating as a queer person is you’ll always get laughed at. If they’re laughing, it means there’s a part of you they don’t respect. 

Living life as an out queer person can be incredibly difficult, especially in a world where it doesn’t seem like our rights are guaranteed. Sometimes, it feels like it’s you against the rest of the world. 

Here’s the thing though: You are quite literally never alone. 

It’s important to keep in mind that the queer community is literally a community, with millions of people who have gone through similar experiences to your own. There’s no shame in leaning on someone else for support or asking for advice. 

The second, and more important thing, about dating as a queer person is the queer joy. 

“Queer joy” is a bit of a more modern term, but it essentially boils down to a feeling of happiness and pride in relation to being a queer person. No matter who you’re dating, there is something incredibly special about being able to feel this level of pride with someone else. 

Anyone who lives their life as a queer person is building up a greater system of support for the community. Even if you aren’t able to live that life in your current situation, there will hopefully be a future in which you can. 

When I first began dating, I was often incredibly confused. I felt lost. I felt like I didn’t know who I was. But by embracing friendships with more queer people and by asking myself the questions that I needed to ask, I felt a lot more confident in the person I was becoming. It wasn’t until later that I realized that by being happy and by experiencing queer joy, I was rebelling against a world that didn’t want me in it. 

Now, as I’m currently in a queer relationship, I find a lot of comfort in knowing that my partner gets what I mean when I talk about being confused or scared of who I was when I was younger. There’s a level of queer joy to be founded just by relating to people. 

If you’ve been out and proud for a while, keep at it. You’ll always provide support for those who wish to be in your position. And if you’re still working on feeling comfortable, just know that you’ll get there eventually. Things always get better.