How My Thriving LGTBQ+ Chicago Neighborhood Changed My Life
When I was in college in Chicago in the early 2000s, I always heard “Andersonville is where the lesbians live.” I was a fledgling queer myself, and hadn’t fully embraced who I was. So I left it at that — words I’d heard from someone else, and not encouragement to visit (or move) to a place that might suit me more than the grungy area of the South Loop I lived in. (It’s super bougie now, by the way, a quality that younger me would have hated.)
At the time, if I wasn’t at school or home, I was likely hanging out in Northalsted — the LGBTQ+ neighborhood formerly known as Boystown — at one of the bars with my gay friends from the art school I attended. I spent a lot of energy acquainting myself with gay culture, but no one ever wanted to go to Andersonville (then colloquially known as Girlstown), so neither did I. Instead, I pushed my own queerness to the back of my mind, ignored the other side of my bisexual self, and knocked back cosmos and lemon drops with my boys.
Fast-forward to 2020, and a lot had changed. I had a master’s degree, my own business, an apartment in Milwaukee, and a boyfriend who needed to move to Chicago. I was thrilled, of course — as a born Chicagoan, I couldn’t wait to move back home. It wasn’t an easy move; we were rejected from about seven apartments before we were able to move here. We ended up in Andersonville, the place I’d never even considered living, but that was a mile from the lake and had a lot of perks as far as food and shopping.
But the Andersonville I moved to was so different than I expected. The neighborhood had blossomed in the time I was away from Chicago from a lesbian-centric neighborhood to a thriving LGBTQ+ hub that is, yes, pretty bougie.
Moving to Andersonville was like finding a part of myself that I’d stuffed into a manhole in Boystown all those years ago. We didn’t intend to move here at first (rather, to an adjacent neighborhood), but I’m so glad we did. I feel so much more in touch with myself and my queerness living in an area where I regularly see people just like me. What draws me isn’t just that this neighborhood is historically lesbian — it’s also that I can walk down the street and see lesbian couples, gay couples, trans and drag folks, and see (and feel!) absolute pride in every aspect of the queer spectrum.
Pride flags of all flavors fly throughout the area, both at businesses and at homes. The neighborhood is full of quirky and fun boutiques repping gay culture, owned by LGBTQ+ couples, or both. Even the local chamber of commerce (of which I’m a member) is run by mostly queer folks, and the team partners with various LGBTQ+ organizations to regularly offer seminars about things like hiring trans workers and bystander intervention.
A couple years ago on Bi Visibility Day, I posted a meme on my socials that said “Hi, bi!” with a person waving at the screen. In a way, it was my official “coming out.” I’d always assumed everyone knew I was bi, but I guess not. I received a lot of messages of congratulations for expressing myself and for being open about who I am. I don’t know if I would have been able to take that step if it hadn’t been for living in Andersonville, where I’m always supported by friends who understand me, even if I’m now married to that boyfriend, a cis man.
Earlier that day, someone had high-fived me because we were wearing the same shirt, one that says “Chicago: Gayer by the Lake.” So if you come to town, watch for me — I’ll probably be wearing that, or glasses with thick rainbow frames, ready to give you a big bisexual hug. It’s a special place in Andersonville, and you’re welcome here, no matter who you love.
Further Reading
I Tried the 90/90 Rule and My Closet Is Now Fully Decluttered
Everything You’ve Ever Wanted To Know About Article’s DTC Furniture
