We’ve Got You Covered
When I was a teenager, and still in the closet to most of my friends and family members, I would sometimes sneak off to the local Barnes & Noble to peruse its magazine section. There, I would find a copy of Out and read it in the aisle with both apprehension and joy. This strange mixture was due to the fact that in my hands was a physical declaration of my queerness. Would one of my mother’s friends, seeking out a copy of Redbook, spot me holding the bold-faced “OUT” letters with a rugby stud posing underneath? Or would it be, as I had hoped, a cute guy to connect with — someone like me? I never did pick up a boy at the bookstore. But those pages opened up a…