This is long, but it’s very important to me. Bear with me.
As some of you know, last month I made a post on Twitter and
Instagram on October 11, National Coming Out Day. It explicitly stated that I
am demisexual (I’ll explain what this means further down) and pansexual (meaning I can be attracted to any gender). I’d posted passively about my
sexuality a few times before, but this was the first time I was unambiguously
clear about it.
Coming out online was more terrifying than I expected. I’m
someone who is very true to myself and proud of being open about all aspects of
my identity, so I thought coming out wouldn’t make me too nervous. I was wrong.
I’ve been out to myself for almost a year, but it took me
until the past couple of months to post anywhere about it. Part of the reason
for that is that I was worried I didn’t “count.” I thought people wouldn’t
believe I was who I said I was unless I’d dated a woman, rather than just had a
crush on one. But slowly, I gained confidence. I found encouragement from
members of the community, both in my physical life and online. “If you’ve had
romantic/and or sexual feelings for multiple genders, you’re welcome as a
member of the queer community,” they said. I fit that bill, so I breathed
easier.
Needless to say, coming out puts you in a vulnerable position.
I knew that beforehand, and I certainly felt that after I’d pushed it out into
the world. I reminded myself that any negative feedback I received would
probably be from homophobic people, anyway, who I didn’t need to concern myself
with.
I definitely didn’t expect negative feedback from a fellow
member of the LGBTQ community.
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| *flag waves menacingly* |
A couple of days later, I received a message from an old
friend who is part of the community. Here’s a direct quote from it: “From what
I’ve read, it feels like you fall more into the ally/support category than a
member…It’s one thing to SAY you’re pansexual, demisexual, gay, bi, and another
to actually be in it…Being emotionally, sexually, physically intimate with
someone of the same sex, someone who has no sex, someone who is intersex
whatever, it’s one thing to say you’d be okay with it or open to it and another
to actually do it.”
Note: the purpose of this blog post is not to senselessly
bash this person. Part of why this message devastated me so much is because
this person is an old family friend, someone I’ve enjoyed spending time with
and discussing mutual interests with. Maybe she has no idea what kind of line
she crossed. But it represents a larger problem in the LGBTQ community, so I
feel that it’s important to talk about.
Now. The message. There are so many hurtful, problematic
elements to this.
First of all, this person did not come equipped with some
magical list of everyone I’d ever been attracted to and everyone I’d ever
dated. Aside from a brief conversation about my engagement, I hadn’t spoken to
this person in almost two years. I’d never spoken to her about my sexuality in
my life. She only knew the genders of two of my previous partners, who were
both male. Apparently, she believed that this knowledge, along with “what she’d
read” (she was referring to articles I’d posted related to the LGBTQ community)
was enough to justify her assumptions about my sexuality. This was so wildly
presumptuous and insensitive that I couldn’t believe I was reading it.
Secondly, it’s ironic that this person approached me with my
ignorance about queerness in mind, because in her message, she demonstrated
that she has no idea what demisexuality is. Demisexuality has nothing to do
with what gender or genders you’re attracted to. Demisexuality is part of the
asexual spectrum, which encompasses people who do not experience sexual
attraction often, or who do not experience it at all.
I can only experience sexual attraction to someone who I
already have an emotional bond with. Before I knew there was a word for
demisexuality, I defined it as, “I can only have sexual feelings for
already-established friends.” This doesn’t mean I feel sexually attracted to
someone and choose to abstain from sex until I trust them—this means I can’t feel anything sexual towards them
at all if we don’t know each other well. I’ve never seen someone walking down
the street, or a picture of someone I’ve never met, and thought, “I’d bang
that.” I can’t relate to that. In fact, I’ve never been sexually attracted to
someone before knowing them for at least a year first.
It is perfectly possible for a woman who is only interested
in men or a man who is only interested in women to be demisexual. I’ve been
experiencing demisexuality since puberty started, thanks.
Another problem was that she assumed my fiancé is a man.
My fiancé, Danny, is neither male nor female, but nonbinary.
They use they/them pronouns rather than he/him or she/her. This is how Danny
describes their gender in their own words: “I know I have broad shoulders, thick
eyebrows, a beard, and other ‘masculine’ crap, but I’m not a man. Equally, I’m
not a woman. I’m nonbinary, simple as that.”*
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| Also the cutest nonbinary person you ever did see. |
If I were to say to myself, “I don’t count as queer because
most people assume my partner is a man,” I would be invalidating Danny’s
gender. People might insist we have “passing privilege,” meaning people can see
us walking down the street together and not scoff at it. But the idea of
“passing privilege” is a long-standing biphobic concept,
or, for those who don’t know what biphobic means, discriminatory against people
who are not strictly straight or gay. Beyond that, how exactly is it a
“privilege” for Danny to get misgendered constantly?
I can’t use Danny’s pronouns in most normal conversations
because many people a) have no idea some people use they/them as pronouns or
that people can be neither male nor female, or b) think nonbinary is a “fake”
identity that originated on tumblr (it didn’t). To those latter people, I’d
recommend listening to an actual nonbinary person’s experiences regarding their
gender before jumping to conclusions like that.
Anyway, here’s what happens every time I talk to one of
these people about Danny: “My fiancé studied abroad in London and I joined my
fiancé there in April. Oh what does Danny study? Danny studies English, and
Danny minors in Creative Writing. Th…*mumbles* used to minor in Computer
Science but Danny decided to switch over.”
Good thing “fiancé” and “Danny” are both words I enjoy
using. But still, I walk away from these conversations wondering if anyone
noticed how ridiculous I sounded because I was trying to avoid using any
pronouns.
Some might ask, why not just use “he” to make it easier?
Because that feels wrong and invalidates Danny’s actual gender. It feels like
I’m talking about someone who isn’t Danny, because the Danny I know isn’t a
man. If you’re straight and cisgender (meaning not transgender) and/or can’t
imagine what this is like, think if someone said you had to refer to your
girlfriend as a “he,” or your boyfriend as a “she.” It would feel wrong,
wouldn’t it? Like you’re completely misrepresenting the person you love.
It’s even worse when people make references to Danny’s
“maleness.” This sometimes happens in the context of someone speaking about our
relationship. A lot of these statements are meant as compliments, but they end
up making us both uncomfortable because they make incorrect assumptions about
Danny’s gender. Examples include:
“As long as you’ve got your man by your side, you’ll be
fine!”
“Don’t you just love a man who can do [x activity]?”
“We should have a girl’s day, no boys. Sorry Danny!”
“I know you’re not taking your husband’s last name, but the
kids will have his name, right?”
“I know you’re an independent woman and all, but when it
comes down to it, I’m sure you’ll look to your husband to financially support
you when the kids come along.”
Sexism aside, this makes me want to scream every day, “WHAT
MAN? I DON’T HAVE ONE OF THOSE.” Which wouldn’t be entirely fair, since most of
these people have no clue they’re saying anything harmful. Society is mostly to
blame for reinforcing the idea that you can only be a man or a woman, that
someone is a man if they look a certain way, that a straight relationship is
the default, etc.
The point of all this is, is this not a queer experience? Is
this not a struggle against heteronormativity?
Are these not microaggressions that make daily life more difficult?
Luckily, the person who sent me the message backed off a
little after I mentioned Danny’s gender (although she didn’t back off entirely,
and I wish she had). She said she’d messaged me out of concern that I was
jumping on the “fashionable LGBT bandwagon.”
And here’s where I talk about gatekeeping.
If I had only ever dated men, and had only experienced
romantic and/or sexual attraction to people who aren’t men without dating them,
this would not have been enough for the person who messaged me. Despite my crushes
on women and nonbinary people, I wouldn’t have “counted.” A lot of people in
the community hold this opinion, that if you’re not “queer enough,” any queer
feelings you’ve had don’t matter. This is damaging and needs to stop.
Can you imagine if people held this opinion about straight
people? I have a friend who, last she told me, is confidently straight but has
never been with anyone. Does that give me the right to tell her all her
attractions to men have been invalid because she hasn’t been with any of them?
Gatekeeping, or barring people from a community because they
don’t meet some arbitrary criteria, is unnecessary and harmful. If someone
knows the definition of pansexual and feels it matches them best, then they are
pansexual. They might stick to that identity or later realize that a different
one fits them better. Regardless, if they say they’re pansexual, believe them.
No one understands their sexual and romantic feelings better than they do.
As for this “fashionable LGBT bandwagon” nonsense...
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| Look how fashionable!!! (Source; statistics are as of 2013) |
I
disagree that people are changing how they identify themselves because of a
trend. Yes, more people are coming out nowadays. There are also more resources
now and there is more acceptance of LGBTQ people than there used to be. Maybe
more people are coming out now because the environment is safer. Maybe more
people are coming out because they feel encouraged to be open to what they feel
rather than assume they’re straight because it’s the default. “Straight until
proven gay” is itself, I argue, a homophobic mindset. It keeps LGBT identities
locked in place as “alternative,” as “other.”
TL;DR: Don’t
assume anyone’s sexuality. Don’t assume anyone’s gender. Don’t lecture someone
about whether or not they belong in a community. And definitely, definitely
don’t act like you understand someone better than they understand themselves.
-Morgan
*I had Danny read this whole post for accuracy before I made it public.
*I had Danny read this whole post for accuracy before I made it public.