Dealing With Straight People:

If I fit a stereotype too well, straight people will tell me I’m being “too” queer. Similarly, if I bring up queer issues or rights or challenge heteronormative assumptions, I am, again, being “too” queer. The implication here is that I somehow need to try to assimilate into straight culture and be more straight. This is often not because there is anything wrong with being queer, but simply because bringing up these issues or being myself (if myself happens to fit a particular stereotype) makes others uncomfortable because it is different. Therefore, I need to alter my behavior, interests, appearance, and/or activism in order to make the dominant party more comfortable so that they either a) don’t have to treat me like a human being or b) don’t have to bear the fight for queer rights on their conscience.

If I love myself for who I am and am not apologetic, if I love who I love for who they are and still don’t feel the need to apologize, and if I feel like talking about it openly or contributing to a conversation among straight people concerning everyone’s partners, I am “flaunting my sexuality”. They are allowed to talk about their opposite-sex partners at length, but if I talk about a girlfriend, even in a non-explicit manner perfectly appropriate for casual conversation, I am giving them “too much information” which some of them will inform me they “really don’t want to hear”. I don’t mind hearing about your opposite-sex attractions, and I’m generally more reserved about my own personal preferences, tastes, and partners than most people are about theirs, so I don’t really understand why this is so horrible for me to mention that, yes, I happen to like girls, in passing.

(And, truthfully, here I exaggerate. Many queer people I know have complained about being treated this way, but, thankfully, all the straight people I associate with don’t suck. At least not in this way. I try not to be friends with people who show me no respect — it took far too long for this to occur to me, however.)

Also: bisexuals don’t exist. I’m not “really” queer. Bi men are simply homosexual and in the closet and it’s only a matter of time before they come out. I, as a woman who is not strictly homo or hetero, am apparently attracted to women solely so that I can get the attention of men. One day, it is assumed I will find the right man and settle down with him and pop out straight babies; if I actually do find a man I would want to spend my life with, the people who think this will assume that they were correct to begin with, but they are not, though there will be nothing I can do to convince them otherwise.

Dealing With Queer People:

If I don’t fit a stereotype, queer people will tell me I’m not queer “enough”. I will hear queer friends talk about the stereotypes that all queer people are supposed to fit, even when I am in the room and I clearly don’t fit them, and the person in question doing the stereotyping does not, either. (Unfortunately, this generalization is far more based in my own reality and experience than most of the dealing with straight people ones.)

Not only by being a femme queer woman does the queer community itself exclude and marginalize me as a member, giving off the illusion that we don’t exist, that we’re faking, that we aren’t good enough, but since I am not strictly a lesbian I am, again, assumed to be fictional, and for the same reasons that straight people assume that I am lying or do not exist.

If I do not enjoy participating in pride events because of my claustrophobia in large crowds and distaste for the atmosphere, I not being a “good” queer. If I don’t enjoy being part of a group of people with whom I have nothing in common other than my queerness (despite personality conflicts, no common interests, or facing totally opposing viewpoints), I’m not a good queer. If I do not enjoy wearing rainbow paraphernalia I am not being a good queer either.

Dealing With Everyone:

If I, as a pansexual woman, decide to date a man, people (regardless of their own orientation) will assume that I am now straight, as if by acting on one aspect of my attraction I have somehow forgotten about the rest. I saw a good post on this subject on the LJ queer_rage community, challenging the assumption by some homosexuals that bi/pan people benefit from an implicit privilege in our heteronormative society. Yes, if I date a man I will benefit from people’s misplaced assumption that I am straight, and perhaps will be free from some of the more blatant homophobia which might confront me if my date were a woman (which is unfair and truly unfortunate), but is being assumed to be something that you are not really a privilege? Is a huge portion of your person being ignored or treated as if it does not exist really a benefit? Does my existence being made invisible mean that I really have the privilege of appearing straight when I am not? I suppose the same “assumed straight” privilege can be extended to queers in the closet, but does anyone truly believe that’s a comfortable place to be?

(Mind you, I understand the resentment from the queer side of the argument, but that doesn’t mean I have to agree with it. Being treated as straight when I’m not is just as hurtful to me as it is to any other queer, whether it means prejudiced people are less likely to give me a hard time or not. It’s simply expressed in different and often more subtle, extremely damaging ways.)

Heteronormitivity is everyone’s enemy.

Also: I can’t stand people who feel the need to know my orientation. Are you gay or straight? Are you a lesbian? Are you bi? But I thought you were — but you look — but you act — but you said…

Look, if I’m attracted to you in a remotely meaningful way, you’ll know. I’ll tell you or flirt with you or make it obvious in some other way. (Or, the more likely and more common scenario — I will definitely let you know if I’m not interested in you, just so there is no confusion. If you really need to know if I feel that way about you or some other particular person…ask?) If I’m not? Can’t see why it should matter to you. Do you really need to put me in a box? If we’re not romantically or sexually involved, is it relevant? Are you so insecure that you must always know exactly what label everyone fits so that you feel in control? So that you don’t feel confused? I’m perfectly allowed to be ambiguous about it if my sexuality has nothing to do with my relationship to you. If you are my friend or someone I really care about, I may try to explain myself to you. Or I may not. If it’s not your sex life, why do you actually care?

Dealing With Me:

I like the word “queer” as a descriptor. I pride myself on the original definition of the word, the perceived insult of not being normal, not being like everyone else. Of course, if a homophobe uses it as an insult I will still be offended, not because of the choice of word — anything can be hurtful if the person behind it thinks it is something that should be.

“Queer” is an open-ended word, inclusive of the entire GLBTQXYZ umbrella. It can mean just about anything that is not the default assumption. I can be anything if I’m queer, so long as I’m me. I don’t have to be a lesbian, I don’t have to be bi, I don’t have to define myself in any stricter terms because I am me.

That’s all I want to be.

This entry was posted on Sunday, March 5th, 2006 at 12:21 pm and is filed under Gender and Sex, Queer Issues, Sexuality.