I went to my first furry con!
14 May 2026
I don't know if you guys saw/read that post I made about a year ago (man, time really flies) regarding some insecurities I had about whether I really identified as a furry or not.
It's always hard to pin yourself down in a vaccuum. We exist, identify and validate our experiences in community, it's how we confirm our reality. It's how we can tell what's normal or not, what's expected or not, how we evaluate the range of possibility around us. Without the point of reference that community offers, we are lost. So, a year ago, when I made that post, I was a little lost. Not as lost as I could have been, admittedly, but I knew I was missing something.
I have always loved anthropomorfic animal characters. Drawing them, writing them, watching them. This is something that very likely stemmed from my love of cartoons together with my love of animals. However, the furry fandom had always been something foreign to me; all the information I had about it was vicarious and stereotypical, and I was curious but scared. At first, I thought being a furry was something exclusively sexual, and that didn't apply to me. Making a fursona for myself was just a fun little exercise, but I never really shared this with anyone, never had any furry friends to share it with. However, to the D&D players and otaku who populated my friend group, I was always "the furry one". Honestly, I can't even remember if it was them who assigned this label to me, or I was the one to say it first, but in retrospect it was probably an aspect of me that was always really apparent. Actually, being considered "the furry one" had always felt right to me.
When you are the only one, though, imposter syndrome is bound to strike. I would get assaulted by all kinds of dumb questions. Like, am I really a furry if I don't feel this way or other, or if I do this thing instead of another thing. Would real furries consider me one of their own or not if I met them... Without a point of reference, every little thing is a good enough reason to second-guess oneself. And then I actually met people in the furry fandom. I found out about the telegram groups that exist for furries in my country and started talking to people there. Nobody ever questioned me. There's no furry police or anything. The community embraced me like I was always meant to be here.
I am SO grateful for the fact that Ibercon is held in Madrid, because I don't think I would have been able to attend if I'd had to rent a room someplace else, and I am really glad not to have missed it.
Before this con, I had only ever been to anime conventions. I thought conventions were just events where you mainly just bought merch and showed off your cosplay, if you had any. I had never actually made new friends at a convention, ever. I had never felt like there was enough space or enough chances to connect with other people at the anime cons I've been to; those had always been events I attended with the friends I already had. The main reason I decided to try this convention, all by myself, was that it seemed so different. Like, what would people even buy/sell if everyone has a unique, original sona/character? What do people even do for four entire days? Do they just talk about animals? It's silly, I know, but it was a bit hard for me to conceive.
Because the con ticket costs a lot, and because I was going on my own and I really wanted to make the most of my experience, I ended up deciding to make my own fursuit, print out some stickers, and bring my art supplies to the Artist Alley. My materials are humble, but I have fallen in love with the craft of paper fursuiting.
The truth is that furry conventions are truly everything that a fandom and a community embodies. Of all the fandoms I participate in, furries are the people who most clearly and deeply understand what "fandom" means.
Furry conventions are places for furries to meet. Nothing more. Nothing less. The attendees, the staff, organizers, volunteers, artists and guests of honor ALL understand this, and everything that happens at the convention is a reflection of that. Everything happens with the single purpose of furries being able to have fun together. Every single person there is part of the community, and you never really get a sense that anyone is "a celebrity" or "a brand". The space is for everybody to enjoy; everybody can be a performer and everybody can be just a regular attendee.
My time at the con was spent in concerts, karaoke, games, meetups, lectures, food-sharing, sticker exchanges, scavenger hunts, lively conversation, picture-taking, drawing, dancing, getting people's socials... Honestly, I didn't even have time for shopping. I made so many new friends I am honestly still processing it.
It really was a feeling unlike any other convention I've been to. It did remind me of something else, though; I was reminded of summer camp, back when I was a child. Even though I didn't have a room at the hotel (though I almost want to get one next time, it seems like so much fun), I could feel that summer camp kind of energy, like we were in our own little universe where we're only worried about what the next fun activity will be, and not about anything outside in the real world. Forging connections with people in a space where everyone is feeling safe and there's a common understanding and etiquette. I'm pretty sure it was during the dance competition, as I was watching these flips and twirls and just incredible moves from the participants, that it occurred to me... Gosh, this must be the greatest place in the world. I am in the most amazing place in the entire world right now.
I don't think I will easily forget the moment I put my fursuit on the first day. It's an unconventional suit, made of card stock and tape, so part of me was hoping it would help me start a conversation, but part of me also felt a bit awkward about it. I made it for the con, so I had never tried it on in front of other people, or even outside of my living room. In fact, I had never worn a "mascot" suit that covered my head before. I hadn't even actually walked around on it yet. It took me what felt like ages to figure out a comfortable way to wear my clothes and my fanny pack that didn't make sticker exchanges too complicated (my flippers are basically boxes for my hands, so I couldn't actually grab anything, I would have to ask people to grab the stickers themselves), and when I started walking, the feet were too long and rigid and forced me to go really slow in order not to trip. I could hear my own breathing so loudly it made me nervous, and it was hot and a little blurry. The hole in my beak was just a little too narrow, so it pinched my nose like a second, lower, heavier set of glasses. In those first two minutes walking out of the fursuit lounge and into the common area, I almost went through all the stages of grief. I thought I looked like such a loser, that I was going to choke or trip, that people were going to look at me and pity my poor-person cardboard suit. I walked in idle circles for a bit, just getting used to stepping and listening to myself breathe, and wondering what the heck I was doing.
And then a kind stranger approached me, asking if they could hug me and take a picture with me. All of a sudden I was just a happy little penguin. I swear, I was flapping my arms and giggling in agreement and swaying side to side in just the way penguins do. And I mean... I wouldn't say I was "in character", exactly, because I didn't really feel any different from the regular me, or say anything particularly "character-like". I was just... me, but penguin-like now.
I really have to laugh as I'm writing this, but, as shocking as it may seem, wearing a fursuit isn't serious, professional business; it's inherently silly and whimsical, and acting silly isn't only what you're supposed to do with it, it's also simply what comes natural when you're wearing it. You instantly feel allowed to be your silliest self.
So... I didn't choke, I didn't trip, and over time I really got used to wearing the suit. I was wearing it for longer, I was walking and breathing easier, and I barely felt any pinching. Now and then I took the head off to see or hear better, or because it got a bit too hot, but it felt good to wear it. By the third day of the con, I was wagging my tail at other fursuiters to invite them to dance with me, and I was shaking myself off in that cute way birds do during transitions between songs, just because it was fun.
I was right about my suit helping spark conversation, too. I got to explain my process to a lot of curious people, invite them to hold my head or wear my flippers, and I even got interviewed about it at one point! Many people told me about how it was their first time seeing a paper fur in real life, or how creative/original a cardboard fursuit was. There were also many people who, plain and simply, told me "I love your fursuit". Those made me feel a special kind of warmth; like the fact that it was paper didn't make it any different from the others. Like it belonged. Like I belonged.
My time at the Artist Alley was also really fulfilling. I was excited about getting new eyes on my art channel (up until the con, pretty much only my friends were following me) and I got to make some beautiful traditional commissions that really made me wish my markers were a little better. I spent some of my commission money on CDs from the artists that had come to play their music on stage for us; I treasure those CDs like something truly unique and wonderful. Hurrah for physical media!
Speaking of the music, I am so very happy to have met furry musicians. I would never have thought about the concept of furry music before the con, but the artists who came to perform really, truly have lyrics that resonated specifically with the furry part of me. It was really cool.
I returned from Ibercon exhausted but refreshed; full of stickers, full of ideas for another, better suit, already member of a bunch of new groups of friends and having been invited to Madrid's next furry meetup (which I am, of course, not going to miss), and absolutely ready to save up for next year's con.
I used to have doubts as to whether I identified as a furry; I don't feel that any longer. I think I belong with this community, and I have never been prouder to count myself as part of it.
If you were there to accompany me, even if it was for a brief moment, at Ibercon, then thank you so, SO much. You made my first furry con something really memorable, and I am immensely glad to have met you. I hope to see all of you guys again soon.
