Ever Felt Like a Rainbow in a Cornfield? My Journey as a Queer Person in Lincoln
I remember the first time I walked down O Street, feeling both invisible and somehow too visible all at once. The Midwest sun was beating down, and I wondered if anyone could see the real me beneath my carefully curated outfit.
Finding My Place in the Heartland
Lincoln surprised me. Between the University's progressive bubbles and the small but mighty queer venues downtown, I discovered pockets of belonging. That coffee shop where the barista with the septum piercing would give me a knowing nod. The bookstore with its proudly displayed rainbow flag. These became my landmarks on a map I was still learning to read.
When Dating Apps Feel Like Corn Mazes
Let's talk about the struggle that is queer dating in a mid-sized Midwestern city:
- That moment when you recognize every single profile because you've already swiped through everyone
- The "Oh, you know my ex?" phenomenon that happens constantly
- Driving 45 minutes for a first date because options are limited
- Wondering if that cute person at Target is family or just fashion-forward
Creating Your Own Rainbow
What I've learned is that building community requires intention here. Join the LGBTQ+ groups at the Malone Center. Volunteer at OutNebraska events. Sometimes being visible is the revolutionary act we need.
You're not alone in feeling alone sometimes. That contradiction is part of our shared experience, especially here where cornfields meet concrete.
What's your Lincoln story? Share below how you've found or created queer community in unexpected places. Your journey might be the map someone else needs right now.