Gay Men’s Rites of Passage: Finding Community, Brotherhood, and Belonging

By Upton Rand

That First Drive (AKA Why I’m Still Shocked I’m Alive)

I was sixteen when I took my first solo road trip into Boys Town. I’d just gotten my driver’s license and thought I was hot sh*t, like every other teenage boy with a set of keys and no sense of mortality.

I picked my brother up from O’Hare that afternoon—not because he was dying to tag along on my coming-of-age adventure, but because I was the one driving. He didn’t have much of a choice. Shotgun was the price of admission.

What I should have done was rethink my route, because learning to drive on the Loop in Chicago, during rush hour? I’ve been there. I did that. And if you’re even thinking about trying it? I encourage you to think again.

But I made it. Somehow.

And when I finally stepped out of the car and onto those streets, everything changed.

Pride flags in the windows. Couples holding hands in broad daylight like they weren’t afraid of anything. A whole neighborhood that felt like it belonged to us.

It blew my mind.

It was the first time I realized that we weren’t just out here surviving—we were thriving. And if there was a Boys Town here, there were more out there.

We All Have Our Firsts (And Not Just That First Time…)

That trip? That was my rite of passage. And whether you realize it or not, I bet you’ve had yours too. Or you’re about to.

We all go through it.

The moments that crack us open, scare the hell out of us, and put us back together as something more ourselves than we were before.

1. Your first gay bar.

Gay Bars are a serious right of passage for those who enjoy a beer.

You’re sweating through your shirt, pretending you know how to order a drink, hoping nobody sees your hands shaking—and then some guy smiles at you like you belong there. Because you do.

2. Watching Mean Girls (or Queer as Folk, or Drag Race) and realizing you finally get the jokes.

Suddenly, you’re part of a conversation that’s been happening forever. And you’re fluent.

3. Your first Pride.

This could be home

You feel it in your chest: “I’m here. I’m part of this.” And then you realize you forgot sunscreen and now you’re part of this sunburn, too.

4. Dating apps.

The swipes, the matches, the ghosting, the awkward small talk that leads to something, or nothing, or maybe even something you didn’t know you needed.

5. Finding your chosen family.

The ones who show up when it matters. The ones who call you out when you’re being dumb. The ones who stay.

Boys Town Was My First Gay Home. Yours Could Be Anywhere.

For me, it was Boys Town. For someone else, it’s Christopher Street, Wilton Manors, or a sweaty dive bar off the highway where nobody judges your karaoke.

It doesn’t have to be big.

It just has to be yours.

And in case no one’s told you—if you don’t have a space like that yet, you can make one.

Why It Matters Now (More Than Ever)

I’ll be honest with you.

I turned on the news for the first time in months the other day. And it bummed me out. Big time.

It’s scary out there. The kind of scary that makes you want to curl up, shut it all out, and hope it blows over.

I get where the fear comes from. I see it. I feel it too.

But it’s times like these that remind me why we built these communities in the first place.

We didn’t come together because it was easy.

We came together because we had to.

Because standing alone was never going to be enough.

And if you’re reading this, you need to hear this:

We have strength in numbers.

We always have.

And right now, it’s time to remember it.

The New Brotherhood Is Already Happening

Some of us still hit the clubs. Some of us are hiking in the woods or sitting in circles breathing deeply with our eyes closed (sometimes naked).

It’s all valid.

The point is, we’re finding new ways to show up for each other.

Ways that are about connection over competition. Community over coolness.

Brotherhood that isn’t about being the hottest guy in the room (though, hey—good for you if you are).

Build It. Start It. Be the One.

You don’t have to wait for an invitation.

You don’t have to wait until you’re “ready.”

If there’s no community where you are, create one.

Post in a forum. Start a book club. Host a movie night. Plan a camping trip.

Put the call out—and I promise you, someone will answer.

Because someone out there is waiting for you to be the one who makes the first move.

This Is the Rite of Passage Now

It’s not just about your first Pride parade or your first dance floor kiss.

It’s about showing up.

For yourself.

For your people.

For the ones who don’t even know they need you yet.

And when you do, you’ll realize:

You’re not alone.

You’ve never been alone.

You’re part of something bigger.

You’re part of us.

Final Thought

I still think about that sixteen-year-old kid white-knuckling it through Chicago traffic, desperate to find his place.

He found it.

And so will you.

If you’ve got a story about your first time finding your community, I want to hear it. Drop it in the comments or shoot me a message.

This brotherhood? It’s only going to get stronger.

And it starts with us.🔥