Lot's Wife Edition 4 2016

SOCIETY
These are not compliments. Among other issues, it elicits the
bizarre notion that there is a certain way to look gay.
Although you might think you’re being complementary by
pointing out a person’s similarities to the norm, comments like
this can be really harmful to LGBTQIA folks.
When I first ‘came out’ my next worry was how to become
visible within the community. I soon learnt that if you’re a
Queer woman presenting on the more feminine side, you can
often find yourself quite invisible in a lot of community spaces,
especially if you don’t have a network of friends. Being told
that I didn’t look gay enough added to the apprehension I was
already feeling about wanting to fit into this new community I
identified with.
Such issues of visibility and belonging manifest in a heteronormative
system, where the default is heterosexual, and
so everyone is presumed to be straight until they ‘come out’
or prove otherwise. Hence the dilemma for some of how to
become visible.
Why the focus on heteronormativity? Acknowledging
heterosexuality as the norm allows for us to see it as a political
institution that first and foremost privileges heterosexuality.
Your gender studies lecturer will probably term this a ‘hierarchy
of sexualities’, because they see sexualities and the labels we
use as inextricably bound to systems of power and privilege.
By making assumptions of a person’s sexuality based on
their appearance and the way they dress, you are reinforcing
heteronormativity. We all do it. I make these presumptions
all the time, but I do try to make a conscious effort to unlearn
these ways of thinking, and question its origins.
Many see heteronormativity as a product of a heterosexist
society. And what is a heterosexist society? Well, heterosexism
is simply this normative bias in favour of heterosexual relationships
that permeates the attitudes and cultures of our society.
Having to reiterate to some people that, yes, despite my
appearance I am indeed gay, becomes tiring. These appearance-based
assumptions are unavoidably gendered as well, as
much of these sceptical attitudes manifest in the idea that an
overly feminine woman must be heterosexual. The comment
that someone is ‘too pretty to be a lesbian’ also represents this
common assumption that conflates appearance with sexuality,
whereby lesbians are assumed to only date women if they are
physically undesirable to men.
I have noticed that when I out myself to straight men I tend
to label myself as ‘gay’ rather than ‘lesbian’. I find myself disassociating
with the label lesbian because of the sexual connotations
attached to it that indulge the male gaze. Queer sexual
identities are so commonly sexualised, and as much as I take
pride in identifying as a lesbian, sometimes it’s easier to use
the label ‘gay’ for this reason. In my experience ‘gay’ seems to
warrant less speculation, scepticism, or creepy interest. When I
term myself as a lesbian, I have experienced that some straight
men commonly see this as an invitation (“That’s hot”) – or
alternatively think I’m an angry radical feminist that will spit
on him and throw my burning bra in his direction. Don’t get me
wrong though, I am angry :)
This may all sound a little embellished, but it does indeed
happen. I was recently at a bar with some friends, and we were
approached by two men who struck up conversation. Their way
I soon learnt that if
you’re a Queer woman
presenting on the more
feminine side, you can
often find yourself
quite invisible in a lot of
community spaces.
of deciphering which of us were potentially interested in them
was to individually ask each of us, “You got a boyfriend?”
(Clearly they respected the idea of us being another man’s
property more so than our own individual agency.) When the
index finder swung in my direction, one of my friends proposed
that I would actually have a girlfriend, which elicited raised
eyebrows along with the trying-to-play-accepting-but-reallyjust-creepy
comments of, “Really? That’s cool, I like that.” (To
which I responded, “I’m sure you do” *eye-roll*.)
All in all, it would be nice if I didn’t find myself in these
awkward encounters where I feel pressured to out myself to
strangers. Most of the time, I choose not to. And for any peeved
dudes reading this and thinking ‘not all men’, yes, I know not
all of you are that appalling at talking to women in bars. Sadly
I have also had other Queer people, including queer women,
question my sexual identity based on my appearance. To me,
these experiences are embedded in heteronormativity. I am
presumed straight until I prove otherwise, based largely on my
feminine or ‘lipstick’ appearance.
Thankfully I am now at a place where questions like “who
pays on the dates?” just entertain me (with disdain). While the
language you use and comments you make may seem benign to
you, to some they can be really harmful.
At the very least, if you give no fucks for anyone but
yourself, then be aware of the political power relations you are
regurgitating. And at best, I have found that it’s important
to be mindful of the troublesome norms we are perpetuating
with what may seem like throwaway comments or harmless
questions.
Rather than try to find ways in which my relationships
mirror your own, or compliment me on how my appearance
assimilates with your idea of femininity, allow me my differences.
It’s time to understand that we are different, and accept us
anyway.
Lot’s Wife | 27