Well, I'm flashing back some.

Decades ago, my partner and I were attacked off the and of Christopher Street in Greenwich Village. I was roughly the same age you are now, actually just a bit older. A group of young men taunted us whey saw us holding hands as we gazed at the stars.

Then one of them punched me in the face, out of absolutely nowhere. No provocation on our part aside from being in love and making it obvious. In the very gayest part of New York City.

My boyfriend was a big guy, and those young toughs were not on their own turf, so we managed to chase them off then flee to the nearest gay bar. I wasn't hurt aside from having a sore jaw for the next couple days, but ...

I was actually hurt far worse than that. My sense of safety and security had been shattered. I had to come to hard terms with the reality that not even our most popular queer oases were truly a haven from irrational anti-queer violence.

It was a sobering realization — one that's colored and shaped the rest of my life.

I channeled my fear and anger into activism, struggling to find or create true security. Sometimes, I've succeeded in feeling secure. Sometimes, I haven't.

And now, with the global anti-LGBTQ backlash and the astonishing anti-queer hatred demonstrated in the US elections ...

Anyway, you and your boyfriend have a lot to process. I don't have any in-depth advice, because I don't know you and your culture well enough to risk advice.

But I wish you both well!

I wish you peace.

And I hope with all I have that peace is achievable.