My transition to San Francisco wasn’t the traditional transplant story of moving for a job offer. I am a Bay Area native. Growing up in the South Bay, San Jose to be exact, meant a long trek north to get to “The City”. I’d visit San Francisco often for family events, but rarely have time to enjoy all it had to offer.
The journey began in university, which failed miserably. After high school I moved 400-miles south to started my college career at the University of Riverside and study environmental science. This idea of course, stemmed from my parents being that it was a profitable major and just like any good son I felt the need to please them. Unfortunately, after two quarters I flunked all my courses and in the moment, a part of me regretted it. But this failure led to positive growth and through that flourished to a beautiful friendship with someone who I consider one of my best friends. She, like me, was devastated to find out that we both would not be continuing our education as freshmen at UCR so we moved back to the Bay Area.
This low-point in my life was a turning point. One of my best friends (not best friend because I am a firm believer in having many close friends that you can confide in) lived in Daly City, CA, which is only a five-minute drive from San Francisco so we’d hang out frequently. We became two of the best friends anyone could ask for. And need I mention, she’s one of the most brutally honest people I have ever known – we all need at least one person like that in our lives. With that said, she’s met all my boyfriends. I owe some part of my decision to move to the city to her.
Throughout the years I became more enticed by the city for a couple of valid reasons: 1) The diversity. In such a big world, San Francisco is filled with different people without judgement. Ethnocentricity is nonexistent here which is why the city is one of a kind. 2) Gayness. We have our own community where we are free to be who we are and love who we want. This was the first place I actually felt comfortable in my own skin. I remember getting dressed up for my 21st birthday and enjoying myself at the clubs in Castro. Who can complain when surrounded by some close friends and my boyfriend, who also became the first love. Our story is one for the books, but I’ll save that for the novel. I owe another part of my decision to him.
The summer before transferring to college was the best, we had just graduated from community college and spent the days outside reveling in our feelings. He had worked immensely to get into UC Berkeley, while I was on the fence about where I’d end up. With an acceptance into San Francisco State University and waitlisted at Cal State Long Beach for Industrial Design, I contemplated my options. I spoke to one of my professors, who game some sage advice to me. He told me, Long Beach would provide the foundation for design, but San Francisco would offer all the connections I’d need to be a successful designer. You’d think that would be another reason to go to SF, but I still had reservations.
It wasn’t until early July that I heard back from Long Beach, by then I was more content with being a short ride away from one of my bestie, a bridge away from my boyfriend, a 45-minute drive away from my parents, and a whole lot of city to enjoy and explore. I came to San Francisco to immerse myself in a true urban city that had a vibrant gay culture. Oh boy if only I knew where it would all lead to.
– Cheers from your friendly Poly Guy 2
