Finding Your Rainbow in Wyoming's Big Sky Country
Have you ever felt like the only rainbow in an endless prairie of blue sky? That's how my first winter in Cheyenne felt - beautiful but isolating in ways I never expected.
When Wyoming Became Home
I moved to Cheyenne three years ago for a job at the local newspaper. The Equality State (oh, the irony wasn't lost on me) greeted me with spectacular sunsets and surprisingly strong winds that nearly blew my U-Haul sideways on I-80. What the tourism brochures didn't mention was how to find other queer folks when the dating pool seems smaller than a prairie pothol during drought season.
The Invisible Visibility Paradox
Here's the thing about being queer in Wyoming - you're simultaneously too visible and completely invisible. Walking down Capitol Avenue, I felt like everyone could see right through me, yet I couldn't seem to find my people.
- Dating apps showed profiles "75+ miles away"
- The one LGBTQ+ meetup had the same seven people
- Well-meaning coworkers kept offering to set me up with their "other gay friend"
Creating Your Own Constellations
What saved me wasn't finding a huge queer community - it was building meaningful connections within the one that exists:
- Volunteer with Wyoming Equality - they're doing amazing work
- Start small gatherings (my monthly potluck started with just 3 people; we're now 15+)
- Embrace allies who show up consistently
- Remember that quality trumps quantity every time
The queer community here might not be visible from outer space, but we're resilient, tight-knit, and surprisingly vibrant when you know where to look.
Your Wyoming story matters, friends. What's been your experience finding community in unexpected places? Share below - your words might be exactly what someone else needs to hear today.