I first noticed the privilege of being left alone while being myself after moving to lower Manhattan in 1990. I wasn't quite 30 years old yet but prior to that, I had to be pretty careful to keep up a sort of traditional straight masculine presentation unless I wanted to risk people around me feeling free to comment negatively on my appearance or personal character.

I never really noticed this. I took it so for granted that it faded into the back of my consciousness.

But when I moved into the one of the most densely queer-populated neighborhoods in the world, my perspective flipped.

Suddenly, I could walk down the street with my boyfriend, not necessarily holding hands but clearly being with him in more than a friendship way, and no heads would turn except in a friendly way.

I could wear a flamboyant scarf or perhaps rings or other jewelry, and I'd receive compliments rather than scorn.

I could freely talk about my boyfriend on public transportation with other people close enough to hear me, and I wouldn't feel nervous or worried about that.

These are just examples of how I never felt the freedom to be left alone until I experienced the freedom for the first time.

Having experienced it, I am more acutely aware now that because of where I live I no longer have that freedom.