The first time I went to a gay bar by myself, I was 16. The age to get in was 18, but somehow they let me in anyway. They even served me alcohol, which made the whole night feel even stranger in hindsight.
At the time, I was nervous and anxious, but also pulled by something I could not ignore. I wanted to find the gay world for myself. I wanted to see if there was a place for me in it, even if I had no real idea what I was looking for.
I remember walking in and feeling young in every possible way. Everyone around me seemed more certain, more comfortable, more at ease in themselves than I was. I was trying to take it all in without letting anyone see how out of place I felt.
Looking back, I can see that I was not searching for a bar or a night out. I was searching for some sign that I belonged somewhere. I did not find that all at once, but I had started looking, and that mattered.
