I Was a Gay Kid Dreaming of Anywhere Else. Then I Went There.

For Keith Langston, growing up queer in the conservative Midwest meant no comfort zone. Turns out, that was a gift.

2main Me sitting in the Canadian badlands — Keith sitting in the Canadian Badlands. Courtesy Keith Langston

Published: April 29, 2026 | Last Updated: April 29, 2026

I think being gay made me a natural traveler. That might sound strange, but hear me out. Growing up, I never fit in. Actually, it was way beyond just not fitting in. I was universally hated by everyone. My school was super conservative, filled with those religious types who were avidly “pro-life” and aggressively homophobic, racist and sexist. If the manosphere was manifested into a physical space, it would be my high school.

My family was better than my school, but that’s like saying being bitten by a piranha is better than being bitten by a shark. While one is certainly not as bad as the other, neither is ideal. To be fair to my family, a lot was going on with them, from a teen pregnancy to a bitter custody battle over my grandma, and a grandpa who was developing a terminal illness. Plus, this is the Midwest, and my family didn’t know anything about gay people except for the homophobic things they saw throughout their lives in the media. To them, the idea of being gay was basically AIDS and perversion. And with the numerous crises happening in their lives, taking the time to reevaluate their homophobic beliefs wasn't exactly a priority.

This is sounding pretty depressing, right? Trust me, I agree. That’s why I spent my childhood dreaming of being somewhere else, mostly through media. Without friends or a meaningful life, I turned to movies and TV to find what I didn’t have at home — friendship, adventure, mentorship, excitement, literally anything that gave life some sort of meaning and worth.

That’s where I found my love of travel. Movies like “Wild,” “To Wong Fu,” “Eat, Pray, Love,” “The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel” and “The Way” all captivated me. I used to binge-watch the Travel Channel the way people binge “Bridgerton.” I clung to the hope that travel gave me. The hope that not everyone was bad. That not everywhere was dull and lifeless. The hope that happiness did exist somewhere.

I guess I owe some thanks to all the homophobes out there? Because without you constantly pushing me away, maybe I never would have left.
— Keith Langston

My first trip away came the summer after sophomore year of high school. I traveled around Florida on an educational excursion sponsored by Sea World. The next summer I went to film camp in L.A. Then I moved to L.A for college, and after graduation I spent three months living in the woods in the Northwest Territories of Canada.

I still remember going through customs. The guy was like, “Don’t most Americans go to Europe after graduation?” I looked him dead in the eye. “That’s exactly why I’m not going there,” I replied. From there, the urge to travel was uncontrollable. It felt like the world had opened up and my life had finally started. I loved meeting new people, seeing new places, eating new foods and immersing myself in every place I went.

I got two working holiday visas and spent a year working at Lush in Australia and a year working at Vodafone in New Zealand. Best of all, in New Zealand you get one month of paid vacation per year. So as my time there came to a close, I was able to leave and backpack around Southeast Asia … while still getting paid! Then I spent a summer teaching English in Shanghai before becoming a travel writer, which allowed me to explore everywhere from Ireland to Aruba, Costa Rica, Mexico, England and even back to Canada numerous times.

But here’s what I’ve learned throughout the years: I’m not like most people. The most common questions I get asked about my life are things like, “How’d you do it?” “Weren’t you scared?” Or, “I could never just pack up and move to a foreign country.”

3 Me chasing a chicken through Longjing China — Keith chasing a chicken through Longjing, China. Courtesy Keith Langston

I always forget that most people didn’t grow up dreaming of being somewhere else. Most people actually liked high school, and they spend their adult years reminiscing about the “good ol’ days.” Most people live small lives in small places. They get comfortable there because it’s all they know, and they’ve never faced any major oppressions that’s forced them to question it. They like things that are familiar because familiarity makes them feel safe. They create a comfort zone for themselves and then never leave it.

Take my mom for example. She views the “outside world” as this scary place where bad things happen. She’s never left America (and rarely ever leaves the Midwest), but she’s somehow certain that things are much scarier and much more dangerous elsewhere.

But my experience growing up was … definitely not that. I never felt comfortable, or normal, or safe, or wanted. I was an outcast. How could I leave my comfort zone when there was never a zone I felt comfortable in?

Growing up an outcast has strangely turned me into a true global citizen. I hate to say it’s a “benefit,” because the mental health toll of growing up ostracized by everyone around you isn’t something I’d recommend. But, part of me is also kind of glad? It doesn’t bother me when people look different from me, or speak a different language, or have a different culture. I don’t view them as “other” or “different” because I think my upbringing taught me that “other” is arbitrary. According to everyone I grew up around, I’m the “other,” so like, whatever? The idea means nothing to me.

But for so many people, it means so much. It’s the difference between normal and weird, familiar and strange, right and wrong, desirable and unwanted. To me, new and different isn’t something to be afraid of. It’s an exciting adventure. And I think that’s helped me immensely on my travels. Without that fear, there’s nothing to hold me back. I can fully embrace new destinations because I don’t view the world through a lens of Us and Them.

I guess I owe some thanks to all the homophobes out there? Because without you constantly pushing me away, maybe I never would have left. Maybe I never would have hiked through tea fields on misty mountainsides, or sat next to a lake staring up at the aurora borealis, or slept in a lavish 13th-century castle. Maybe I’d still be like so many of you, trapped in my box of familiarity and afraid to leave it. You saved me from a drab life of mundanity and monotony. You saved me from becoming you, and for that I owe you my thanks.

I think most people in the LGBTQ+ community can relate and probably felt very similarly growing up. I think lots of us have hometowns that treated us like outcasts, which naturally makes us want to venture out, explore and find where we belong. If you’re queer, you should travel. It’s important to know that there’s a big world out there filled with lots of people who are all different. As a marginalized group, we grow up learning that we’re bad because we’re different. But the reality is that everyone is different, and the word means absolutely nothing. Don’t believe me? Book a ticket and find out for yourself.