nostalgicI was wearing a costume and people instantly recognized me and my character and took pictures.. The whole weekend I was surrounded by love and support I hugged random people, shared my life story and possessions with them. I saw amazing artwork and costumes of talented artists. I danced in a crowded room surrounded by hundreds of sweaty tired people and it felt erotic. Our bodies touched and we didn’t care, there were no boundaries, no stereotypes.
Gay couples kissed and people danced like idiots and nobody blinked an eye. I went from the girl that no one danced with at the prom because I was an ugly freak to having random guys hold my hand and being part of a huge conga line. I ran around in a pink wig with a inflatable guitar singing at the top of my lungs and never once felt embarrassed or insecure, and then it was over.On Sunday morning we left Boston and went home, and just like after the past two years conventions I fell into a deep depression and cried for hours. It was like being ripped from sanctuary back to my boring mundane life where nobody liked me, my only comfort being the promise of next year.
