Finding Myself Between the Garden State Parkway and the Gay Bar
Ever felt like your GPS should include directions for navigating queer life in suburban New Jersey? One minute you're sitting in traffic on the Turnpike, the next you're trying to explain to your Italian grandmother why you brought "just a friend" to Sunday dinner again.
When Jersey Shore Meets Queer Reality
Growing up in Montclair, I spent years thinking I was the only queer person in a 10-mile radius. My first Pride was a terrifying solo journey on NJ Transit to NYC, clutching my ticket like a lifeline. I remember stepping off at Penn Station, rainbow pin hidden inside my jacket pocket until I was safely anonymous in the crowd.
- Dating apps showed "45 miles away" for potential matches
- Found myself creating excuses to visit the one coffee shop with a tiny pride flag
- Mastered the art of the "is this person queer or just artsy?" assessment
The Invisible Tightrope
The hardest part wasn't coming out—it was building community afterward. South Orange had its pockets of queerness, but connecting felt impossible without obvious gathering spaces. You'd see someone at the farmers market, make eye contact, wonder if they're family, then chicken out of saying hello.
- Dating meant traveling to Asbury Park or NYC
- Found myself code-switching between different versions of me
- Constantly explaining NJ isn't just what you see on TV
Creating Home Where You Are
I started a tiny meetup at a local bookstore. First night: three people. Six months later: twenty-five regularly. Now we have group texts, holiday parties, and enough people to help you move apartments at a moment's notice. The family we built spans Bergen to Cape May.
You're not alone here. Behind those suburban facades and mall parking lots are people like us, looking for connection. Your Jersey queer family is here—sometimes we're just stuck in traffic on the way to find each other.