Finding My Rainbow in the Potato State: Can Idaho Really Be Home for Queer Hearts?
The first time someone asked me if I was "family" at a coffee shop downtown, I nearly spilled my huckleberry latte. In Boise—of all places—someone was using queer code to find connection. That's when I knew I might actually belong here.
My Idaho Journey
Three years ago, I packed my Subaru and drove 12 hours to Boise with nothing but anxiety and a job offer. Everyone warned me—Idaho wasn't for people like us. Yet here I was, walking through the North End, discovering rainbow flags peeking from porches like wildflowers after rain.
When Being Yourself Feels Revolutionary
Let's be honest about the challenges:
- Dating apps that show the same 15 people within a 50-mile radius
- The constant internal GPS of deciding where it's safe to hold hands
- Being the "token queer friend" in predominantly straight spaces
- That moment when someone asks if your "roommate" is coming to dinner
Creating Home When It Doesn't Exist Yet
What saved me wasn't finding perfect queer spaces—it was creating them. The Visual Arts Collective, The Community Center's events, and yes, even that monthly potluck I reluctantly started.
Sometimes belonging isn't about finding your people; it's about becoming a beacon for others still searching.
You Are Not An Island
On days when Idaho feels too heavy, too red, too isolating—remember there's a constellation of us here, scattered but shining. Your existence is resistance, your joy is protest.
What unexpected connections have you found in unlikely places? Share below—your story might be someone else's first sign of home.