I wasn't out in college. Despite my obsession with lesbian Tumblr, the threesome that "came out of nowhere" my senior year of high school, and the endless stream of homoerotic "friendships" that consumed my being for so many years…I had no fucking clue I was gay until I was twenty four.

Well, it's not so much that I didn't know I was gay, I just didn't know my way of being gay counted. I'll get to that later. I have spent a lot of time imagining what college might have been like for me had I been out — what I would have done, who I would have done, who I would be now if I had spread my bisexual butterfly wings while my prefrontal cortex was really starting to do its thing.

I thought about it so much, in fact, that I wrote a queer campus novel. Old Enough (which publishes on June 20) follows the story of Sav Henry (she/her) during her second semester sophomore year. She's finally out as bi, meeting the cool queers in her dorm, and hurtling towards the person she wants to be after a lot of years of being told who to be. I talked to so many queer people while writing this book, many of whom were out in college — and many who, like me, have mused on what might have been. Through all those conversations, and quite a few years of hurtling into my own queerness, I think I've got some solid advice for queer collegiate life. Consider this Old Enough's guide to being queer in college:

Labels are meant to liberate

• There is so much rich queer history, and we owe everything to our elders who paved the way for us. There can be so much comfort, affirmation, and solidarity found by knowing our ancestry and those who came before us.

• Queer people can be toxic too. Just because the cutie down the hall knows she has an avoidant attachment style doesn't mean she can ghost you and spend Thanksgiving break with her ex.

• Labels are meant to liberate. College is a time where people are trying everything on — redefining their politics, ethics, morals, getting bangs, etc. Queer lingo can feel overwhelming and exhausting, and you might wonder where the hell you fit in. Don't feel pressure to choose right away. Coming into your identity as a queer person can often feel very serious, but in my experience the best parts of being gay is leaning into queer joy. Approach labels that way, play around, and when you find one that feels light and airy and soft and safe — use it for a few more days. Alegra Kastens, a LGBTQIA+ affirming relationships therapist, adds: "At the end of the day, a label is a social construct. You don't need to fit neatly in one for your sexuality to count. It can change over time. It can be fluid. Labels are helpful for some, but at the end of the day it really is just a name."

• No, you don't have to love cats.

• Black trans women are the trailblazers. May we forever protect their lives and their stories. May we never forget that we exist because they existed first.

• Remember that fluidity is not something you should try to measure. It is such a beautiful thing to love without limits. Being attracted to many genders can feel confusing in a binary-obsessed world. Ditch percentages — gay people don't need to use math!

• Growing out an undercut is a test of patience and virtue — heed those clippers carefully.

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There are many textures to being queer

• You don't have to be up to date with queer culture to be a "good gay person." There are so many textures to being queer — watching Drag Race and staying up to date on the Gaylor news has nothing to do with the validity of your identity.

• It's not your responsibility to educate others about your identity. I always say that it is an honor to have anyone come out to you, and that it should be seen as a privilege. It is not an open-invitation to a crash course in queerness. Your identity is not a dissertation, you don't have to present anything to the class. Google exists for a reason!

• It's normal to experience a regression when you're home from school or with folks you knew before college. I had a therapist coin this experience as "revertigo" — essentially when you revert to behaviors or ways of being you thought you grew out of or wanted to leave behind. Especially for queer folks, who have often had to mask parts of their identity or the way they think, it can feel really difficult to squeeze yourself into shoes that no longer fit. Remember that it is often a survival technique and temporary. And even if it is something you always have to do, for your safety, it does not make you any more valid than the people who live really loudly.

• Queer people are not a monolith, so just because someone is gay does not mean that you will feel connected or aligned with them. It takes time to find your community — don't feel discouraged if you don't click with people right away. It is not a reflection of how much you "fit in" with the community. We're all just little gay snowflakes looking for folks to weather the storm with.

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• For some queer people self-expression through style is a major part of their identity. For others it isn't at all. Both ways of walking through the world as a queer person are wonderful. You do not have to "look gay" to be gay!

• Imposter syndrome is so real. I don't know a single queer person who hasn't experienced it at some point or another. It kind of feels like a prerequisite for being queer. If you find yourself wondering if you're "gay enough" — you're definitely gay enough.

• It can feel overwhelming to be asked questions like "when did you know you were gay" or "what was your gay awakening?" because it can feel like there are right or wrong answers to these questions. As someone who really didn't clock I was bisexual until the moment I fell in love with a woman, these questions used to make me self conscious.

• Queerness is a celebration of otherness, not sameness.

• Bisexuality is not a pit-stop! There is no final destination!

• Being "out" can be complicated for many people. There are real safety risks for some folks, and everyone is on their own journey of self-discovery. Being closeted can be painted really harshly in the media, or insinuate a kind of naivete or hiding. Being proud of your queerness is not always synonymous with being out and that is okay. Queer therapist Dana Savage says "Coming out is for you and you alone. Safety is an important and valid reason to choose when and where you are out."

Bad gay sex is normal

• Bad gay sex is normal! Don't discount your queerness because you got the ick from your first gay kiss! Not everyone has chemistry, and it is so silly to assume that just because the person you're muddling spit with is gay means that you'll be automatically attracted to them.

• Monogamy is still cool, I promise ❤️.

• Compulsory heterosexuality is so exhausting, and untethering from it is really overwhelming. It's easy to get in your head about whether or not you're doing something for the male gaze. It's okay to cut yourself a lot of slack — it's hard to unhook from societal brainwash and it takes time.

• It's an especially scary time to be queer. With anti-trans and anti-queer legislation sweeping the country, it can feel really hard to be hopeful. And while I wholly wish that the folks reading this guide are attending the cool liberal arts schools like the one I dreamed up for my book — I know that isn't necessarily true. It's okay if college isn't the right time to explore the richness of your identity. It's also okay to grieve that. Your story is your own, and you get to decide how to tell it.

Even though I wasn't out in college, I continue to experience so many milestones as a queer adult. Coming out later in life can be like a second puberty — exhilarating, awkward, confusing, and new. So even though I didn't join a sapphic sorority or binge every season of The Real L Word in one weekend with my suitemates, my queerness often feels wholly youthful. Not in the sense that it feels new to me, but in the sense that queerness always offers me something new. A new lens to look through, a different choice to make, a constant questioning of how I want to live in alignment with my truest self. What I know for certain is that it is never too soon, or too late, to come into yourself.