Here’s My Story

HERE’S MY STORY is a feature on The G&LR‘s website, where you can share some part of your life story with other readers. We receive a lot of submissions of personal memoirs, but the magazine doesn’t publish first-person narratives as a general rule. “Here’s My Story” is a space that allows our readers (and others) to talk about their experiences as members of the LGBT+ community. There are no restrictions on subject matter, but some broad areas might include:

  • Coming-out stories
  • Memorable love affairs
  • An epiphany (e.g. a work of art)

Here's My Story View all

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By Scott Bane
My connection to Matthiessen and Cheney came through my sexuality, their relationship, Maine, and Matthiessen’s chosen field of study: history and literature.

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By Lucas Hilderbrand
Early on, strangers also often teased me, amused by the idea that going to gay bars was “research.” Almost imperceptibly, as the years went by, this shifted; people no longer thought historicizing gay bars seemed like a joke.

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By Francesca Capossela
But, during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, living with my then-boyfriend, I began to feel that I had lost my bisexuality, like a favorite sweater forgotten on some subway train.

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By Scott Alexander Hess
But what really inspired the idea and emotional heart of A Season in Delhi was how I felt being in Delhi as a recently-married gay man.

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By David R. Slayton
Genre fiction, and adult fantasy especially, has long been the territory of straight, white cisgender men. There are cracks in that wall now. It no longer seems an unassailable tower, but growing up how and when I did, I could not find myself there, in a genre I loved.

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By Risa Denenberg
Minnie Bruce Pratt—cherished poet, teacher, and activist in the LGBTQ+ community—died on July 2. I learned about it on Facebook, and found it devastating. I owe a lot to this courageous woman. She was important to so many, and will be tremendously missed.

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By Leslie Absher
I knew intuitively not to talk about the fact that I preferred girls to boys. But when I was called a “lezzie” by a boy on the school bus, it was really clear: it was bad to be the way I was.

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