Is Being Queer in Suburban Washington More Isolating Than We Admit?
Last week, standing on the Edmonds waterfront with salt air whipping through my hair, I had this moment of perfect belonging, quickly followed by that familiar ache of otherness. That's the Edmonds queer experience in a nutshell.
Finding My Place in Edmonds
When I moved here three years ago, I was enchanted by the ferry views and small-town charm, but terrified I'd sacrificed queer community for scenery. Those first months, I'd sit at Waterfront Coffee watching couples stroll by, wondering if any were like me. It wasn't Seattle—no rainbow crosswalks here—but slowly I discovered fellow queer folks hiding in plain sight.
The Suburban Queer Struggle Is Real
Let's talk about what makes finding connection difficult:
- Dating apps that ghost when they see your location ("Edmonds? Is that in Washington?")
- The awkward "are they queer or just progressive?" analysis of potential friends
- Having to drive to Seattle for most LGBTQ+ events
- Well-meaning neighbors who want to introduce you to their "other gay friend"
Creating Connection Where You Are
What's helped me thrive here:
- The small-but-mighty Edmonds LGBTQ+ meetup group that gathers monthly at Salish Sea Brewing
- Being visibly queer (my pronoun pin starts more positive conversations than you'd expect!)
- Connecting with queer-friendly spaces like Pelindaba Lavender and Glazed & Amazed
Remember that belonging doesn't require a critical mass—sometimes it's just finding those few people who see you completely.
You're Not The Only Rainbow Fish In This Sea
On days when Edmonds feels too small, too straight, remember we're here too, watching the same sunsets, wishing for connection. What's your Edmonds queer experience like? Share below—our stories create the community we need.