This Blog Originally Appeared on Wet For Her
I’m talking to a woman who lives with her fiancé on a farm outside of Calgary. We’re strangers, she’s called for peer support because she doesn’t know who to talk to. She’s confiding that she doesn’t feel sexually attracted to her male partner; she’s never said this out loud before. Their life together is fulfilling, but she has a hunch she might not be straight. Something doesn’t feel quite right with him. When they have sex, she usually ends up in tears even if she can’t verbalize why. She’s had a lot of women crushes throughout her life that feels more intense than any attraction she’s had to men. She’s thinking of bringing it up with her fiancé, but she’s unsure. And then she asks me, “How do you know if you’re ACTUALLY gay? What if I THINK I’m queer but I’m wrong?” As we wrap up our conversation she tells me she’s too scared to jeopardize her life. She thinks she can be happy with him, even if the attraction isn’t there, she’ll get married and tough it out. I’m sipping coffee with my girlfriend. We’ve been dating for a year and a half; I’ve been publicly out for three; she’s been out for a decade. I ask her, “How do you know you’re queer enough?” Her eyebrows furrow in confusion, “What does that even mean?” she replies. A few moments later she adds, “I only like women, isn’t that enough?” Rewind a few years; I’ve been living with my male nesting partner for over a decade. We’re married, we’re friends, we used to date, we date separately now, it’s complicated! I just started identifying as a lesbian. I often feel like a fraud. Straight people assume me and my husband are a regular happily married couple. I’m often asked when we’re gonna start a family; I’ve never been asked this with the women I’m dating. I feel invisible. Queer people assume me and my husband are unicorn hunters. The mood changes noticeably when queer women find out I’m married to a man. I feel invalidated. It’ll be another two years before I meet my current girlfriend, get divorced, and move in with her. I keep asking myself, “Can I actually be gay if I have a straight husband? Am I queer enough?” I’m worried I might just be straight in the streets, dyke in the sheets. Wet For Her
What does it mean to be queer enough?
I open with these examples to illustrate that we all arrive at queerness differently. It should be obvious that there isn’t a right or wrong way to be queer. Since we’re all different, there’s no objective metric for queerness. However, it’s not unusual for baby gays to feel like they have to measure up to a non-existent standard. When folks ask if they’re “queer enough” they usually mean 1. being visibly queer/ not being mistaken as cis or straight 2. having sexual experiences with other queers/ being in relationships that are recognized as queer 3. being accepted by the LGBTQIA+ community
All of us hold assumptions about what it means to be queer. We’ve developed stereotypes and codes for queerness, often based on media representation or our direct exposure to others. We want to fit in, especially since many of us don’t feel like we fit within the dominant culture. But it can be challenging to feel confident or even recognize your sexual and gender identities when the rest of the world doesn’t see you. If you don’t feel like you have the “right” kind of experiences, expression, or relationships, you might question if your queerness is even real. In the past, I’ve simply said to others “you are queer enough,” but I recognize that does little to remedy the imposter syndrome, gate-keeping, and erasure that many of us regularly experience. There are certainly folks, like my girlfriend, who feel unshakable in their queerness. The idea that folks would assume she’s straight seems absurd to her. Others, like myself, experience social and internal resistance when it comes to our identities. Social misalignment can contribute to the shakiness within us. At the end of the day, everyone deserves to feel valid, seen, and loved. We’ll talk about how to boost queer confidence, but first I want to dissect three external factors that might be contributing to folks feeling invalidated:
Heteronormativity
Compulsory heterosexuality (aka heteronormativity), coined by Adrienne Rich in 1980, is the institutional normalization of cisgender straightness. Basically, our culture tells us we have to be in a relationship with someone assigned the opposite gender. While our understanding of queerness has expanded in the subsequent forty years, the pressure for heterosexual coupling and suppression of diverse sexual expressions remains consistent. It’s not uncommon for folks to be in heterosexual relationships when they first start questioning their sexual orientation. This can add a level of confusion around the validity of their attraction, leading many folks to deny their truth in favor of their normative relationships. It can also make folks feel like they’re unable to use queer labels if they’ve never been in relationships with other queers. Speaking from personal experience, being in a relationship with a cis-man made it really difficult for me to claim my lesbian identity. I felt like my life would fall apart (and to a certain extent it did) if I no longer identified as straight. I felt like I had to choose between my husband, who I loved platonically, and my authentic self; I didn’t think I could have both. I also didn’t feel like I’d had enough “real” sexual experiences with other women to fully claim my label. Heteronormativity not only forces us into straight relationships, but it can also make us doubt our reality. Most of us aren’t given the time or space to fully discover our sexual orientation or gender identity. We end up in normative relationships, whether they work for us or not. It can be hard to prioritize our authenticity or even dare to question normative assumptions. This is not your fault and it may also be a reason why you don’t feel queer enough.
Straight-passing vs. Straight-assumed
I like to make a distinction between straight-passing and straight-assumed. To understand this, we first need to recognize that heterosexual relationships are privileged. Some queer folks deliberately choose to “pass” as straight for safety, comfort, assimilation, or other reasons. They choose to elevate straight privilege and keep their queerness private. Being visibly queer is simply not an option for everyone. Folks who are forced to stay in the closet or choose not to be out publicly also deserve our support. However, today we’re focusing on the people who are assumed to be straight even if they want their queerness to be recognized. Most of us understand the gender of a partner doesn’t determine sexual orientation (for example, bisexuals are still bisexual even if they are dating someone of the opposite gender). However, it can be hard to enter queer spaces if you’re often assumed to be straight; you may not feel like you belong. This is why many folks feel pressure to “look queerer.” Again, the level of visibility that you have is a complex and individual choice. It’s important to understand that being in a straight-assumed relationship doesn’t actually make you less queer; it just makes it harder for the rest of the world to notice you. This is also not your fault, and it can also make you feel like you’re not queer enough. This leads us to the last external factor:
Gate-keeping
Unfortunately, a lot of queer invalidation comes from inside the community. Just because we’re queer doesn’t mean that we’re all accepting and open-minded. The reality is that most folks have varying degrees of internalized homophobia and transphobia (which makes sense considering we live in a homophobic and transphobic culture), that is projected onto other members of the community rather than addressed through self-acceptance work. Hence, we arrive at this arbitrary notion of being queer enough. There are some folks who will discriminate against other LGBTQIA+ community members who don’t fit into their definition of queerness. Gate-keeping, or targeted exclusion of certain folks from queer spaces, recreates an oppressive hierarchy. This practice divides us and makes it harder for folks who are initially discovering their sexuality and gender. In reality, spaces or labels (like “gold star”) that are exclusionary by design hinder our progress towards liberation. We get stuck trying to prove to each other that we belong within the community rather than changing dominant normative scripts. Gate-keeping is not your fault (unless you’re participating in it), and ultimately you don’t need to live up to the standards of folks who require you to prove queerness to be accepted. When you’re dealing with all of these large systemic cultural issues, feeling good about yourself can be a big ask, but it’s not impossible. Here are a few suggestions to grow your queer confidence.
How to boost your queer confidence:
1. Embrace the spectrum- If nothing else, you get to let go of “enough”. Sexuality, as well as gender, exists on a continuum. Everyone has different patterns of attraction as well as experiences with gender identity. Having only same-sex attraction doesn’t make you gayer than having some same-sex attraction. Nor does experiencing gender dysphoria/ euphoria, being kinky, looking a certain way, or anything else. Queerness is not a competition. You don’t have to win or prove yourself or meet certain criteria. You also get to let go of folks who insist they get to set a bar for you and tell you to jump. The truth is, folks who create standards for others have internal work to do, and that’s not your responsibility. You ARE enough. Fuck people who make you feel otherwise; that applies to both straights and queers. Our community is larger than you understand, and there are plenty of people who will accept and validate you because they understand you, I promise. You deserve that support, you don’t have to settle for less.
2. Be yourself- I know, I know, everyone says this. But unfortunately, no one can actually make you feel confident about your queerness besides yourself. I remember in my early 20s when I first tried coming out, I was incredibly concerned with what others thought of me. The more you fixate on performing queerness for others, the harder it is to discover who you are, what works for you, and how you want to express yourself. Ultimately, no two queers are alike (even if it seems like every other queer fits the standard-issue Chacos, Subaru, REI adventure queer mold… maybe that’s just Portland!) You define what queerness means to you. You ARE queer enough.
3. Try things out- I love seeing queer makeovers, not because they’re necessary, but because it’s important to try new things. If you find that being straight-assumed weighs heavily on your mental health, and you have the option to be more visible, try signaling. I recently got a pink undercut, and while a hairstyle isn’t what makes me gay, it sure decreases the number of times strangers ask whether I have a boyfriend. I think hair is a great place to start because it is impermanent and gives social cues based on the style. Again, I will stress that a pink undercut is absolutely not mandatory, you’re just as queer regardless of how you look. And also, you get to play around with signals that affirm your identity. I’ve found that the more I give myself permission to experiment, especially with my gender expression, the more I find what works for me. Also, remember that you don’t always have to signal to others. Making small personally meaningful changes is just as validating as having a full wardrobe overhaul.
4. Give yourself the flexibility to change- When you’re in the beginning stages of coming out, there can be a lot of pressure to land on the perfect label, name, pronouns, relationship structure, and expression. However, it’s useful to realize that you’re a constant work in progress. You most likely won’t figure everything out. You might come out as one thing and then have to revise it at some point. I initially came out as bisexual and had a second coming out a couple of years later when I realized that no longer fit. I’ve also had to come out as genderfluid, because having a grasp on your sexual orientation doesn’t necessarily mean you understand your gender identity and vice versa. It’s also useful to note that certain realizations and coming-outs are easier than others. Pace yourself, it’s ok to be in flux. Being queer doesn’t mean you’re 100% sure about everything. You ARE queer enough, even if you’re still questioning things. And you’re also valid if you change your understanding in the future.
5. Go easy on yourself- Lastly, you are not the ambassador of the united queer nations. There’s no such thing. You do not have to be perfect. It’s ok to go through periods of self-doubt, low self-esteem, confusion, anger, and beyond. You’re a fully complex human. And while being queer might be a large part of your existence, it’s also not your entire identity. If after reading this whole article you still can’t shake the feeling that somehow you’re still not enough, I challenge you to brainstorm what other aspects of your identity you ARE sure of. All of this boils down to you living your authentic life. If you’re worried you aren’t queer enough, it doesn’t have to be your main focus!
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