8 LGBTQ+ love stories that inspire

The Night Everything Changed

Years ago, meeting people happened in person — especially if you were a club promoter like me. One night, my boyfriend at the time and I invited a group of Fashion Week folk to our table with the promise of endlessly flowing free vodka. One makeup artist brought along a friend named Shain. As the night went on, my ex paid way more attention to the guests and random strangers than he did to me. Shain pointed it out: “I noticed you keep looking at your boyfriend, but he’s not even glancing your way.”

That was it. I grabbed Shain’s hand and led him downstairs to a secluded spot in the club. He picked me up, pressed me against a wall covered in artificial greenery, and we made out for a solid 15 minutes.

The next day, guilt kicked in. We decided to just be friends, a boundary we kept for the next year until I started DJing a new NYC party called Rasputin. By that night, things had changed. I was single, and though Shain still lived with his ex, our connection was electric. Shain stayed at the club with me until closing at 4 a.m., even though he had a bus to catch to Pennsylvania to see his mom the next morning. Instead of rushing off, we found a spot on the sidewalk and talked until the sun rose.

A few days later, the moment he got back to New York, he moved in with me. It’s now been 15 years, and I’m lucky to have the best roommate and partner I could have ever asked for. —Mikey Lombardo

A BFF Love Story

Although it’s not at all a romance, one of my favorite “love stories” is Romy and Michele’s High School Reunion. This beloved camp classic stars Mira Sorvino and Lisa Kudrow as two best friends who ultimately realize, through much shenanigans and hijinks, that all they need in life is each other.

When it was released in 1997, I remember my own lifelong bestie frantically calling me to tell me that I must see it at once. “It’s us!” she exclaimed excitedly. Much like the titular characters, we weren’t exactly the most popular girls at school — but we certainly thought we were pretty darn cool! Sure, our eventual queerness would further bond us, but it was initially our weirdness that drew us together. And like Romy and Michelle, we were our own biggest cheerleaders and did our best to shield one another from harm in an often cruel world (usually by making each other laugh till we peed).

Now, nearly four decades strong, my relationship with my best friend remains the most enduring and fulfilling of my life. While I haven’t always been as lucky in the romance department, I fortunately still found myself a soulmate. —Desirée Guerrero

My Gay Dads

It only seemed fitting for this year’s Love Issue that I’d give two of my favorite guys their flowers. Adorable husbands Jaymes Vaughan and Jonathan Bennett have served as mentors and “gay dads” to me since my early days in the news industry. During my first internship at a local TV station in Las Vegas, Jaymes, a more seasoned red-carpet reporter, took me under his wing as we covered exciting assignments in the entertainment space throughout Sin City. Along the way, I met his energetic and sweet hubby, Jonathan (of Mean Girls fame), who never failed to match my energy and make my face hurt from laughing so hard. Both of these amazing guys saw something in me when I was only 18 years old and have championed me in all of my endeavors, personally and professionally. I didn’t grow up with any queer men around me, so both Jonathan and Jaymes helped me become more comfortable in my skin as a gay man in a cutthroat field. I wouldn’t have any of the memories or unbelievable opportunities that I’ve experienced as an out-and-proud journalist without their wisdom, guidance, and kindness over the years. I only hope that I continue to make them proud. Their love and chemistry have inspired me in more ways than I count, so it’s been a real joy of mine to see their relationship blossom as they take on the world together. —Ricky Cornish

Proof of Possibility

I thought being young and queer was hard — and then I got divorced. Being back out there at 39 years old feels like being sent to the wilderness after growing up in a zoo. Where is everyone getting water and food? I don’t know how any of this works! But whenever I’m feeling scared for my future, I remind myself that Selling Sunset star Chrishell Stause was a 40-year-old divorcée when she met nonbinary Australian drummer G Flip and began a queer love story for the ages.

Stause wasn’t out before dating G Flip, and in fact, had recently been involved in a very straight-seeming showmance with co-star Jason Oppenheim. But then, in May 2022, on a Selling Sunset reunion episode, Stause made the shocking announcement that she had a new partner: “Their name is G Flip. They’re nonbinary, so they go by they/them. And they are an extremely talented musician.” Stause leapt straight into the deep end of LGBTQ+ culture after that, starring in a G Flip music video, making a cameo on The L Word reboot, and presenting at the GLAAD Media Awards.

If Chrishell can start over again at 40, so can I. —Samantha Allen

T4T

It’s rare that a couple’s love speaks so profoundly to strangers that the relationship itself catapults them into the spotlight. But when Grey and Grayson Prince began posting their story to TikTok, young transgender people were quick to see their relationships as not just cute but aspirational. Many of their followers dubbed them their “gay parents,” which might seem like a stretch for a pair who were in their early 20s at the time. However, in a media atmosphere with a scarcity of positive representation for T4T couples, a popular shorthand for trans-for-trans love, it makes sense. This is especially understandable given that the pair fell in love during the COVID-19 pandemic, when we were much more online and in need of positivity on our feeds.

“We had never seen a couple like us, and so we were like shit, if no one else exists and we have no other examples, even down to understanding queer relationship dynamics and what is normal and what is acceptable, there’s not really many examples,” Grey tells Out. “It serves more of a purpose, our love, than just being something we enjoy and we have.”
—Quispe López

Can’t Quit You

I was 19 when I first saw Brokeback Mountain in theaters — the same age Jack and Ennis were when they met and fell in love as shepherds in the Wyoming pastures. It’s hard to describe to young people today just how much this 2005 period film was a watershed moment in a pre-marriage equality, Bush-era America. For a gay teen who had lived most of his life in the closet — and had a serious crush on Jake Gyllenhaal — it meant the world to see my identity reflected in such a beautiful, epic way at the movies.

This love story has followed me throughout my life. On Valentine’s Day the following year, my boyfriend at the time surprised me with roses and a copy of the DVD (remember those?). As we watched the film and cuddled in my dorm room together, it dawned on me how fortunate I was to live in an era that seemed to be moving beyond the bigotry that doomed these men.

Last year, I revisited Brokeback Mountain again in theaters for its 20th anniversary. I was 39, the same age Jack was when he was killed. Seeing this film, not as a timid teen, but as an adult, I appreciated with new eyes how this story centers so much on time — what it does to us and our relationships, what fades, what grows, what lasts. This film lasts. And as our country lurches backward in its treatment of queer people, Brokeback stands as a stolid reminder of homophobia’s evils and a monument to the power of love. —Daniel Reynolds

Vaughn & Devan

Looking, learning, living

Looking, Learning, Living

Before I knew I was queer, I was already spending most weekends surrounded by queer people. In my late teens and early 20s, I’d head to West Hollywood with my gay cousin and his friends, happily bouncing between bars, clubs, and the occasional house party. I loved the community and felt completely at home there. Somehow, it still took me a few years to realize I wasn’t just visiting queer spaces — I was part of them. Then I found The L Word.

Like many queer women in my generation, the show was my first real glimpse into what lesbian relationships could look like. Suddenly, there were women falling in love, having sex, making mistakes, breaking up, getting back together, and building lives with one another. Thinking back on my walls covered in posters of famous women I couldn’t stop staring at, it seems obvious who I was. But at the time, this representation felt revolutionary. The show didn’t just entertain me — it validated feelings I was still learning how to name.

Everyone has their favorite L Word couple. Mine was Alice and Tasha. While other relationships on the show felt dramatic or destined to implode, theirs was more grounded. They were funny together, sexy together, and felt like one of the few couples on the show you could actually root for. They didn’t get the ending I wanted for them, but that’s almost beside the point.

Alice and Tasha showed me a version of queer love that felt real. And for someone just beginning to imagine what her own future might look like, that meant everything. —Jade Delgado