As I write this the night before we leave for San Francisco, I can’t help but think about how much I have grown as a person over the past year since my previous experience on this amazing roller coaster of a trip.

Writing this in April because I’m fun and quirky like that BUT ANYWAY HI! If you’re queer and you just… exist, you know that sometimes living in North America is like being locked in a porta potty, NOT FUN! Fortunately, there are some places in the states that stink a little less, like San Francisco, California!

Well, San Francisco. We haven’t gotten there yet, and I am mostly feeling anxious.

I keep reminding myself that I’m packing for San Francisco, not Harry Potter camp. For the past seven summers, I’ve used my blue suitcase to pack for camp. Now, after retiring my wizard hat, I’m using the same blue suitcase to pack for San Francisco.

We are on the plane to San Francisco. It’s been a stressful day thus far but now far overshadowed with excitement and anticipation among the group.

I watch two pigeons eat my fallen pumpkin loaf as I sit at a table on what feels like the world's windiest street. I film them with a small laugh as they begin to scrap and goth each other for the load — I think I heard a small coo but it’s so noisy I am unsure.

Growing up, I remembered I LOVED to play tetherball and 4 square during recesses. I wasn’t very good, but I remember alternating between the two lines until it was finally time to go back inside. I don’t remember a lot of my childhood, but I do remember being called “he-she species”.

We are nearly halfway through our time in San Francisco, and perhaps, my immediate reaction upon return to this queer holy land would have been more interesting. But that thought is gone now,

We are well into the trip and already past halfway with only about four days left. It has been incredible to say the least!

There’s a naked man on the corner of this street. He’s wearing absolutely nothing while the wind whips the small piece of fabric covering the last thing I want to see.

Being a queer person in the Midwest can at many times feel isolating- where I feel like such an outsider in comparison to those around me- where in some spaces I feel like I should hide parts of my queer identity for safety and security. Here in San Francisco, that fear and “outsider mentality” is mostly non-existent- as people here are just as queer as I am.

Before going on this trip, I had heard through the grapevine that the Castro District is a very important location in queer history. As a queer youth, I was excited for the opportunity to learn and explore a monumental landmark in the history of my community.

It’s difficult being so sensitive. My parents have always said I have a “big heart”, and it’s definitely showing on this trip. I feel like the things I’m seeing and doing are taking more of a toll on me than my friends.

Currently sitting out on the patio at our lovely condo and enjoying the sounds of the birds and city life happening. I am beyond overjoyed to be back in this city, even though I have a minor sniffle right now.

Last night a few of us saw the film Rotting in the Sun and I really liked it. I think it was just weird enough to be really good and was still super tasteful, I think.

Before traveling to San Francisco, I was under the impression that people from California tended to be a bit more open minded than people from the Midwest. Even though I was only there for a few weeks, my initial judgment still has some validity, but perhaps not in the way you might think.

Last year after the “Queer as Folk” screening one of the speakers at the Q&A (possibly the director of the film) spoke about how queer trauma is intertwined in almost every queer story and the challenges of separating queer trauma and joy. As queer people, we all have shared lived story and this Q&A session made me realize that we all experience trauma, either direct or indirect, to some level of degree.

I’m currently writing this blog waiting for our flight in the San Francisco airport. I think writing this will help distract me from feeling sad about leaving and already missing the place that we have called home for two weeks.

Last year when coming to San Francisco I had a whole queer revelation about not needing to waste my energy on explaining the complexities of my gender to every stranger I pass, not needing to fit into any mold or standard for what he/him pronouns look like, and how a renewed sense of relief was with me because I was not a queer outlier in masculine spaces — I was just man adjacent.

Wow: My immediate reaction when asked to reflect upon this trip–such an incredible experience. It’s become so challenging for me to verbalize what this trip has meant to me.