FWA 2026

Furry Weekend Atlanta 2026 left a strong impression on me. I didn’t do a whole lot at the convention — actually, I barely attended it, but I had a great time regardless. Here’s a little of what stuck with me.

Impressions

The then

I wasn’t thrilled about my past cons. Each year, I was left with an acute sense of having wasted time trying to fit into a certain shape. I tried bending, crouching, and squeezing into it, but it never felt right.

Worse, the energy poured into these delusional contortions exacerbated my unfulfillment. Going back to work the following Monday felt like a just punishment for being so naive.

This shape doesn’t suit me.

I am referring to the party person. My favorite environments are relatively quiet and calm. My favorite activities, meditative and measured. While I enjoy drinking, I don’t like getting drunk as a means to have fun.

I like playing games and watching movies. I love taking walks and listening to music with enough acoustics left to exchange a word or ten million, depending on how chatty we feel.

“Maybe something’s missing inside me.” I considered that maybe I’m too childish, or simply incapable of having fun like normal people do, but that over time I could learn to enjoy partying, and all that it entails.

I don’t lay judgment upon the psychology or the behavior of the party person. Watching people get rowdy and enjoy themselves is fun on its own merit, as though I experience their energy vicariously.

But anything social at cons — Room parties, karaoke, raves, getting high — requires you to harness some degree of letting go. And after all, why travel and put yourself in a highly social place, if you don’t even like to socialize? So, year after year, I tried.

The this

This time, I chose not to try. I picked the contradiction. Each day, I chose a destination based on weather, distance, and evening plans, and traveled there. My mornings were mostly spent exploring Atlanta.

I visited Piedmont Park and the Botanical Gardens, the High Museum of Art, and the zoo, as well as enjoying lovely parks, restaurants, and cafes around the city, rather than settling for the ones in FWA’s area. While I managed to corral my boyfriend and friends a couple of times, I mostly roamed solo.

In the afternoons and evenings, I reconnected with my pals to participate in group activities. I was pleasantly surprised by how little downtime this approach involved. I’d wrap up my morning tours by the time people were ready to head out. Often I had to make an effort to be on time, rather than wait around the con space for something social to happen.

At night, I mostly stayed in my room, reading a book, reviewing my photos, taking baths, listening to music, and playing games. I enjoyed the quiet unwinding much more than I expected. Hotels, in particular, are so measured, uncluttered, and blank that I feel mindful thought is naturally born out of the lack of foreground distractions. The coffee packets are lovely, too.

When my friends partied and attended raves, I was worried I’d end up feeling like I was missing out, but in the end my time felt incredibly balanced. I respected my preferences and chose who to see, what to do, and when to do it.

People probably thought I was weird and quiet, but I was happy to be myself, free of social obligation. The convention felt more like a vacation in a city where most of my friends already happened to be.

The city and I

I encouraged my boyfriend to prioritize spending time with friends over me, as the con is an exclusive event. While, of course, I wish I could’ve shared more moments with him, I found vivid enjoyment in pacing my tours my own way.

Sometimes I spent a long time observing a particular painting, other times I rushed through a whole section of the zoo. Sometimes I was strategic with my path, other times I circled inefficiently or sat reading a book.

Mostly, I focused on my surroundings. Knowing my boyfriend was having a good time on his own terms gave me peace of mind. Being self-paced let me dig into details I would’ve otherwise glossed over. I realized I care more about learning than I previously thought, and I want to do more of it.

Conclusions

If I had to pinpoint my favorite moment, the morning at the museum felt magical. I remember the crisp morning breeze wrestling steam out of my piping hot cup of coffee; a broken piano, with several keys silent, adequately left out to be played in public by whoever, whenever; reading on a swinging chair on the terrace, occasionally glancing at other visitors come and go; and of course, driving to the fish restaurant to reconnect with friends (and eat an unwise amount of seafood boil) was the perfect tail end to the chapter.

Reviewing my photos, I realized only a handful of them had people as subjects. My friends are dear to me, and I know they like me even if I’m kind of solitary and offbeat, so I didn’t mind walking separate paths. However, next time I’ll take more pictures.

Still, I left Atlanta without regrets. For the first time, I felt sad instead of relieved. Work the next day felt unfair, as my mind still circled those vibrant gardens, broad highways, and endless elevator lines.

I write this for myself to remember how I felt, but also for you, in case you, too, happen to struggle with a similar sense of social estrangement. Maybe next time you’ll also pick the contradiction and spend half of your con doing exactly what you want with no compromise. And, maybe, you too will find that shape suits you much better.

Observations

Here are a few other random facts I noticed.

Photos

Here are some of my favorite photos I took in Atlanta.