I'd never been to a town where so many of the homeless and homeless-adjacent residents seemed to hate each other.
My partner and I are traveling around California in a van this summer, living our lives more in public than you would in an apartment.
After we parked near a river in a college town, two people walked over to the vehicle in front of us. One person yelled at someone putting her dogs back in the truck, accusing her of stealing from a campsite. "I don't steal," said the person with the dogs, offended.
We were waiting in line for the outdoor beach shower after swimming in the river, nice and cool after the 100-degree heat. Someone doing laundry one item at a time offered to take a break and let us shower. We said thanks, but someone else was waiting first. The two women looked at each other and the one doing laundry said, "well, I was going to let them get back to their lives," apparently categorizing us as tourists.
"How about letting me get back to my life?" the waiting woman asked.
"Huh," the laundry woman scoffed, and kept washing a shirt. Eventually we all agreed to let the waiting woman rinse off and then the two of us. But it was an awkward interaction for sure.
Like, I feel like most people who live near each other and clearly know each other understand they benefit from being civil, even if they don't like each other. But I don't live in this town or understand the community dynamics myself.
Speaking of awkward, I went dancing and an ex was there. I mean an ex who I may have texted several years ago to say we were not friends and I didn't wish to speak anymore because it was too stressful. Not the nicest thing to say.
So I saw him and my first thoughts were, oh shit, should I leave? I'm glad he's still alive. But this is going to be awkward.
He didn't particularly like the beginning of my transition away from overcompensating femininity. He wished I would wear dresses more often and spoke about trans people as though they were hard to understand and weird. And I was wearing men's clothes and had short hair that night.
But community is not only about people you really like and get along with. Community is also about people who are really awkward to be around because of your history.
After I snuck to the other side of the room a few times, we met face to face. I almost wondered if he'd recognize me, but he laughed and said, "I guess no one ever really leaves." I laughed, too, to diffuse the tension, and felt like I could stop hiding on the other side of the room.
That's the thing about community. The queer community, the dance community, the aikido community…I've known some leaders to be quick to kick out people due to awkwardness. I'm not talking about the consequences of violent or illegal actions. I mean a leader saying, you used to date someone and it makes me uncomfortable so you can't come back.
There is another way, though. You both keep showing up. You don't partner up for dancing or aikido. You don't chat. But you're professional about it if you run into each other.
Queer communities tend to be small and repetitive in terms of the people who show up and their drama. But not just queer communities - all kinds of niche interest groups, neighborhoods, camps, etc.
When you're in a small community, it's less of an option to casually never see your ex again. Some partnerships end more amicably than others. Some people are a joy to see again even if you haven't dated in a long time. Some meetings are super awkward but we can get through it.
What do you think? Let us know in the comments!
