Finding My Rainbow in a Small Texas Sky: A Queer Journey
Have you ever felt like the only splash of color in a monochrome landscape? That was me, standing in the middle of Lancaster, Texas, wondering if I was the only queer person for miles around.
When Lancaster Became Home
I moved here three years ago for a teaching job, dragging my U-Haul (yes, that lesbian stereotype) down dusty roads lined with churches and family-owned businesses. The first month, I carefully monitored my pronouns at the grocery store and wondered if my rainbow keychain was "too much." I practiced the art of being visible yet invisible—a contradiction many of us know too well.
The Isolation We Share
- Searching dating apps and finding the same 5 profiles within a 50-mile radius
- Driving to Dallas for any semblance of queer community
- Explaining to well-meaning neighbors that my "roommate" is actually my partner
- Calculating safety before holding hands in public
The loneliness can be overwhelming. Sometimes I'd sit on my porch wondering if there were others like me, hiding in plain sight.
Creating Space Where None Exists
What changed everything was starting small. I wore a tiny pride pin to the farmer's market. The cashier at Walmart noticed, whispered "me too," and told me about a monthly gathering at the library. Six people became twelve. We created what we couldn't find.
Remember: community doesn't always look like Pride parades and gay bars. Sometimes it's potlucks in living rooms and secret Facebook groups.
You are not alone here. Behind Lancaster's quiet facades are people like us, waiting to be found. What's your story? How have you created community in unexpected places?