If you attended this year’s Midsommarfest, you might have noticed something strange at play. Andersonville’s predominantly lesbian festival was brimming with gay men. While scanning the crowd for my friends, I was blinded by the sheer density of faux hawks and pectorals peeking through tank tops. They seemed to be trumping us 10 to one, thickening the streets with the smell of sweaty cologne. It felt a little overwhelming, the populous of this summer festival having shifted so wildly from the years before. What could have caused such a rapid turnover? When had Chicago’s only lesbian neighborhood been swallowed by Boystown?

“There’s this utopian ideal that we’re all supposed to live together in peace and harmony,” says Christina Santiago, Andersonville resident and an employee at Howard Brown Health Center, which provides healthcare and services to the gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender community. “The segregation is happening within our own community, which is the saddest part of all.”

It wasn’t so long ago that Chicago’s rainbow-ensconced Boystown neighborhood was a thriving lesbian community. Then a population of predominantly white, affluent gay men decided to call it home. Wielding the power of two disposable incomes, gay men bought up the homes and storefronts faster than you could say “gentrification.” According to U.S. census data, gay men earn 80 percent more than the median household income. Lesbians, unable to compete or keep up with housing costs, were forced to move north to Andersonville.

Now lesbians are faced once again with an involuntary shifting of borders. Boystown has been so successfully gentrified, many gay men can’t afford to live there any more. Andersonville is the next logical progression. Queer friendly and wholly more affordable, it offers everything that Boystown no longer can.

However, many Andersonville residents have already noticed the small community feel and affordable property being compromised. “Affordable housing used to be around $200,000. Now it’s somewhere around $300,000, which limits the pool of buyers,” says Joseph Summerville, a Chicago realtor for more than 20 years. Ten years ago, high-end housing in Andersonville cost approximately $400,000, according to Summerville. Today, property on my street goes for $1.3 million.

While gay men seem to feel quite comfortable in Andersonville, lesbians can’t say the same about Boystown. We notice that bars there are slow to serve queer women, and some residents make it obvious that we’re not wanted. On more than one occasion, strangers have sidled up to me and said, “Oh, I didn’t know this was a lesbian bar.”

Meanwhile Stargaze, Chicago’s only official lesbian bar, is being infiltrated. Dee, a 10-year Andersonville resident and bouncer at the bar, has noted an increase in the number of male patrons over the past year, despite the fact that Andersonville is now jam-packed with gay male establishments.

Chicago’s queer community is divided. Lesbians feeling the palpable intolerance of Boystown would like their own community where people look like them instead of, unnervingly, at them. So where do we go next? How much farther north can the lesbian community travel?

“As a landlord, I can tell you that in the last few years, as lesbian renters have turned to condo ownership, they have looked to the more affordable Rogers Park area,” says property owner Victoria Vasconcellos.

But there are those who feel Rogers Park isn’t safe enough for a two-woman household due to its higher crime rates. Older lesbians have found a home in Oak Park, immediately west of the city, which has a domestic partnership ordinance and is known for its efforts to promote diversity and be welcoming to gays and lesbians. But Oak Park isn’t a great place for twenty-something lesbians in search of culture, community and nightlife.

“When I stepped into Andersonville it was very women-specific and very lesbian. That was home,” says Santiago. “I want to find a new Andersonville. I don’t know if that exists yet.”