A weekend that started as a search for romance became something more lasting.

Chicago’s 2026 WNBA All-Star Weekend was never just about basketball. For those who showed up, it was a gathering point for queer culture, one built around shared identity as much as shared love of the sport. As a 36 year old Chicagoan who only came into my queerness in my early thirties, the weekend carried a weight I hadn’t expected walking in.

My path into queer dating has run alongside my career as a full time WNBA writer, a shift I made after years working in audio documentaries. Watching WNBA players live openly in their identities pushed me to do the same in my own life. So heading into a weekend packed with parties, fan meetups and a standup comedy show, I went in hoping to find a little romance along the way. I even squeezed in a chin wax beforehand, half daydreaming about who I might meet.

The long history behind the celebration

The connection between lesbians and women’s basketball stretches back to the sport’s earliest days in the 19th century, and the WNBA has grown into something of a landmark for queer visibility. That legacy showed up everywhere during All-Star Weekend, from gatherings hosted by The Lesbian Social Club to informal meetups where players mingled directly with fans.

One standout moment came during a fireside chat with ESPN analyst Andraya Carter and basketball writer Jordan Robinson, held at Babe’s, a well known women’s sports bar in Chicago. The setting was relaxed, filled with cocktails, sunshine and open conversation about what queerness has meant to the league over the years.

Connection over romance

I didn’t leave that chat with any romantic sparks, but I did run into someone I hadn’t seen in nearly a decade. We laughed about both being single and joked about wingmanning for each other, though the exchange also nudged me into a moment of quiet self doubt when they questioned how I identified. It was a small reminder that self acceptance rarely arrives all at once and settles in.

The rest of the weekend unfolded in a blur of long lines, Chicago heat and new faces. I met Ro, a hairstylist who told me about a recent engagement party she’d celebrated at a women’s sports bar, one more small proof of how much community lives inside these spaces. Conversations like that ended up mattering more than any single romantic outcome could have.

Dancing through All-Star Weekend

At one point I found myself on the dance floor at Babe’s during an event called Party Like It’s 1996, honoring former players from earlier women’s basketball leagues. Watching those legends move with total joy reframed the whole weekend for me. It wasn’t really about finding someone to go home with. It was about celebrating a shared history that so many of us had quietly been part of for years.

By the time I stopped keeping score on romantic potential, I found myself genuinely enjoying the atmosphere for what it was, a space built by and for queer people who happen to also love this sport.

A surprising night out

One evening led me to a standup comedy show featuring WNBA players turned comedians Sydney Colson and Theresa Plaisance. The energy afterward carried into an afterparty where basketball legends like Tina Charles and Sue Bird were casually in the mix, a genuinely surreal thing to witness up close.

At some point I worked up the nerve to compliment Theresa Plaisance on her set. The conversation that followed came easily, and I found myself talking with her about the history of women’s basketball with real enthusiasm. Whether or not anything comes of it, the exchange left me with a sense of satisfaction that had nothing to do with romantic outcome.

What I’ll carry from All-Star Weekend

Looking back, the WNBA All-Star weekend reminded me that community can hold just as much weight as romance, sometimes more. Women’s basketball has built a space where queer people get to show up fully as themselves, form real connections, and feel like they belong somewhere. That alone made the weekend worth it.

And if Theresa happens to be reading this, that Milwaukee Does t shirt offer still stands. I’d be glad to bring it by in person, along with a few more stories about the queer history running through this sport.