- When my queer best friend ended our friendship, I was devastated.
- To cope with the pain, I binged-watched "RuPaul's Drag Race" and became obsessed with two queens.
When my best friend, a queer Black man, ended his friendship with me, a straight Black woman, I was devastated. I didn't think I would get over the hurt of losing someone so close to me.
I agonized over our breakup and ruminated on what could've gone wrong. Then two drag queens from "RuPaul's Drag Race" gave me the closure I needed to finally heal.
My best friend and I met 15 years ago in law school
When I walked onto the law-school campus, Adam stood out to me. He was impeccably dressed in a crowd of drab school spirit wear. To my delight, he walked over to me and complimented my style. We traded quips on the way to class, and we became inseparable.
Adam and I discovered we had the same interests and similar personalities, which allowed us to support and push each other. I was obsessed with queer culture and served as a substitute for him for the primarily white queer community at school. I often corrected Adam's spelling of Grindr or put him on to the latest queer anthem. (The last recommendation I gave him was Saucy Santana's "Walk.") Adam often joked that I was gayer than he was.
Adam is why I started writing. He sat me down in law school and told me I was studying the wrong profession. He pointed to my strong opinions about pop culture and told me to write. Adam was the first person to make me consider a job outside of law.
During the pandemic, Adam stopped talking to me, and I was devastated
At first, I thought nothing of not hearing from Adam while he isolated in Los Angeles and I isolated in New York City in the early days of the pandemic. But when the world started opening up, I texted to check in on him.
He never answered. I followed up with calls — no response there either. I sent him emails and got no answer.
Adam wasn't on social media, so I Googled him to make sure he was OK. I learned he was alive and well; he'd moved to San Francisco.
I was heartbroken. A few months later, I texted him on his birthday. Our birthdays were a few days apart, and we always sent each other well wishes. I was sure I'd hear from him.
When I didn't get a text back, I knew our friendship was over.
To cope, I became obsessed with the 'RuPaul's Drag Race' alumni Bob the Drag Queen and Monét X Change
I needed to take my mind off Adam. I discovered "RuPaul's Drag Race" and binged 13 seasons in three weeks.
"Drag Race" also introduced me to the contestants and best friends Bob the Drag Queen and Monét X Change. I became obsessed with Bob and Monét. I never missed an episode of their podcast or YouTube video drop. I stalked them on social media, and I bought front-row tickets when they resumed doing live shows.
While I'd always loved queer culture, my fanaticism reached a new level with Bob and Monét. One day it hit me why: They replaced the intimacy I lost when Adam left. Their friendship, which shined through every piece of entertainment they gave their audience, reminded me of Adam. He was the combination of Monét's cool and relatability and Bob's worldliness and eccentricity. Bob and Monét bantered like Adam and I did over our passionate opinions.
I'll never know why Adam broke things off
But I realized that over the years, Adam's friend group had changed, and I was the straight outlier.
I'll probably never find out why Adam broke things off, but I know he'd always wanted to be around queer people. In a Washington Post column, Damon Young summed up what I suspect happened between Adam and me: "Sometimes friendships are cleared and refreshed so that a person can spend more time with newer, better (for them) friends."
As a Black person, I understand the need to be with your community very well. I don't have or want any white friends. While I balked at my white husband taking offense at not being invited to Black events, I couldn't see that Adam needed his own community too — one that didn't involve me.
I was upset when Adam went to queer events without me. But while I try to be an ally of queer people, I am not queer. Being an advocate or ally for the queer community doesn't make me a member of the community, no matter how much I love watching "Drag Race" and "Pose," throwing shade, and spilling tea.
I hope Adam found his people. He deserves it.
I'll always cherish my friendship with Adam. And at the same time, I accept I'll be watching Bob and Monét love on each other as only queer best friends can.