In the past four days I’ve had half a dozen “firsts”, so many wonderful first times that I’m still reeling from it.
My first performance (albeit small & partial) with the gay men’s chorus.
My first concert singing with my “new” — low or “male” — voice.
My first gay-boy hookup.
My first queer Friends-/Thanksgiving with so much queer joy and warmth, including snuggles and music and dancing.
My first time going caroling and bringing holiday cheer to strangers.
My first time partner-dancing as a (gay) boy with a gay man.
It’s hard to say which of these “first times” was the most important or beautiful: they’re all equally meaningful and magical to me, in different ways. But they somehow all contain and spread a liberating, joyful, warm queer energy, a queer sense of more “fluid love”. And they all talk to those parts of me that have been shut down for so long, in fear and/or solitude, to those playful, joyful, childlike, liberated, fun parts of me that want and need to run free like a river bursting from a dam.
The Little Prince and the Fox 