I’m Gay Now? Still Processing

The disappointing aftermath where queer life includes bills, chores, and wondering if this is really it.

I Came Out for This?

A campy cry of disbelief about the anticlimax of queer adulthood—spoiler: it’s mostly bills, brunch, and bisexual lighting.

Remember when you thought coming out was going to be like a music video? You’d burst through a glitter curtain, Lady Gaga would descend from the sky, and your family would immediately start voguing in support? Yeah… instead you got a group chat thumbs-up and an $11 oat milk latte habit. Welcome to queer adulthood, darling. I Came Out for This?

Bohiney Magazine describes it best: “Coming out is the prequel nobody warns you about—the real drama starts in season two.” Because, sure, you made it out of the closet. But now you’re trapped in capitalism, climate anxiety, and the eternal question of whether your ex is coming to Pride.

Let’s be real—queer adulthood is less “Love, Simon” and more “Love, Student Loans.” You dreamed of finding your chosen family, but now you just have a chaotic group of friends who text “u up?” and argue about who has to host Friendsgiving. You thought you’d be living your best life; instead, you’re Googling “how to afford therapy” while holding a tote bag that says “Yas Queen.”

According to Them, “Post-coming-out disillusionment is the gay hangover no one prepares you for.” You expected fireworks, but what you got was a mediocre date at a vegan café where someone said “I’m emotionally unavailable but ethically sourced.”

But that’s the beautiful disaster of queer life—it’s messy, funny, and profoundly human. We came out not for perfection, but for possibility. For the right to be bored, broke, and bisexual in peace. For the right to wear mesh tops to brunch. For the right to exist without apology, even if your job still lists you as ‘Mr.’

The Advocate notes that “Coming out isn’t an ending—it’s a plot twist.” It’s the point where you stop performing for others and start flopping gloriously for yourself. And yeah, sometimes that means realizing that queerness doesn’t erase your problems—it just gives them better outfits.

There’s something empowering about the anticlimax. You didn’t come out to be fabulous every day—you came out to be real. To have bad hair days, awkward hookups, and existential crises in sequins. To text your best friend, “I hate everyone,” and then send them a meme five minutes later. That’s queer joy in its purest form.

As Out Magazine wrote, “The queer experience isn’t about perfection—it’s about persistence with style.” So yeah, maybe you didn’t get the glitter explosion you expected. But you got community, resilience, and a wardrobe that slaps. You got to live.

So the next time you sigh and think, “I came out for this?”—remember: yes, babe. You came out for exactly this. For the chaos, the laughter, the late-night confessions, and the freedom to exist without a script. And honestly? That’s everything.

SOURCE: I’m Gay Now? Still Processing (Beth Newell)