Today's Top Stories. The first gay bar I went to was in the West Village, and I went alone. I thought: These are my people. In sharing their stories, they are taking a stance against hate, and honoring every victim of violence based on hate.
I grew up in a devout Catholic family, and gay clubs were the first places where I was able to express my sexuality openly.
I went from coming in and feeling like I was doing something wrong, to having a great night with new friends. Yet every week, without fail, we all walked across that parking lot and braved it all to have our safety inside. It was a place I could dance with anyone, male or female, and not feel like I had to worry about being taken advantage of.
Everything was so normal , yet so alien. Nobody there would even think twice about me dancing, holding hands with, or making out with a girl — mostly because everyone there was already doing so.