New study reveals 10% of Americans have history of bisexual behavior

— There are three times more people reporting partners of more than one gender than in the 1990s.

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A recent study revealed a substantial increase in the number of Americans who either identify as bisexual or have a history of bisexual behavior. 9.6% of respondents reported having both male and female partners, over three times more than what was reported in the 1990s.

The study, published by researchers Martin A. Monto and Sophia Neuweiler in The Journal of Sex Research, utilizes the General Social Survey dataset, a nationally representative sample of over 32,000 participants. The survey aims to carefully represent each demographic of the United States, and follows up with participants across each successive decade in order to assess how responses may change over time. An additional 2,300 participants were added in the 2021 wave.

The study used a variety of tools to try and measure sexual orientation and prior sexual behavior. This includes a question that asks respondents to reply with their sexual orientation – either gay/lesbian/homosexual, bisexual, or heterosexual/straight.

For sexual behavior, the study asked participants to recall whether their past sexual partners were of the same or a different sex, with additional questions asking about whether their partners were male or female. These responses were narrowed down by the researchers to those who had multiple sexual partners in the past year.

Using a method called regression analysis, the researchers determined what the relationships were between their measures of sexual orientation and behavior with gender, assessing how these relationships changed over time. They found that not only were participants more likely to identify as bisexual than in previous years, but that there were more participants identifying as bisexual than gay or lesbian.

However, they found the reverse trend for sexual partners, with more respondents being exclusively of the same sex than those who had both male and female sexual partners. The authors also note that women were more likely than men to report being bisexual or having a history of bisexual behavior, with men being more likely to report exclusive same-sex behavior.

In addition, this study also found that young people were more likely to identify as bisexual, with 10% of those below 29 and 12% of those in their 30s identifying as such.

This study reflects the changing landscape of Americans identifying as LGBTQ+. Previous studies have suggested similar trends, with more Americans identifying as LGBTQ+. In those prior studies, bisexuality was also the most frequent orientation behind heterosexuality.

The authors detail how this demographic shift showcases a “loosening of the social norms and institutional enforcement that have privileged heterosexuality over other sexual orientations,” with modern demographics being more accepting of LGBTQ+ individuals than in the past few decades.

They suggest that a reason there may be a discrepancy between identification and behavior in their results is due to how behavior may capture those simply exploring their sexuality before coming to a new identity.

In addition, they also point out how “sexual orientation can be fluid, with some people changing their sexual behavior and/or their sexual orientation identities over time.”

Finally, they detail that “even persons who have more recently had partners of both sexes may not consider themselves bisexual, and the term may not fit their understandings of themselves and their sexual behavior.”

The authors conclude by calling for more research that “can better recognize that the terms with which we identify ourselves are social and that there is some degree of choice about how to identify our sexual orientation, particularly among individuals with histories of both male and female partners”

Complete Article HERE!

What you should know about coming out as LGBTQ+ in your 20s and 30s

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For LGBTQ+ baby boomers, coming out in your 30s was the norm. The average age to come out among Gen Z is in your teens.

Greater social acceptance and more LGBTQ+ representation in culture, such as the Netflix series Heartstopper and Sex Education, are making it easier for young people to be open about their sexuality and identity.

Despite this, some people still don’t come out until their late 20s, 30s or later. If you are in this position, you may feel like you are “behind” younger people who are openly LGBTQ+. But you are not alone. Coming out is a process that unfolds over time, and may take longer for some than for others.

An LGBTQ+ person first has to recognise and accept their sexual orientation or gender identity, before making decisions about whether, when, and how to tell others. The time it takes to fully understand and accept your sexuality or gender and be ready to disclose it to others can vary considerably.

You may know that you are LGBTQ+ from a young age, or this self-discovery may happen later in life. You may experience fluidity in your sexuality or gender identity, whereby your identity may shift over time.

If you identify as bisexual or non-binary, you may face additional challenges such as feeling misunderstood or pressure to “pick a side”, due to limited social understanding and stereotypes that these identities are “just a phase”.

If you are in your 20s or 30s, you may have received relatively little LGBTQ+ inclusive relationship and sex education (RSE) at school. In the UK, you may have been at school under section 28 which prohibited the “promotion” of homosexuality. The chilling effect of this law persisted even after its repeal in 2003, with many educators cautious about openly discussing LGBTQ+ topics.

Statutory guidance in 2020 made LGBTQ+ inclusive RSE compulsory. But it left room for inconsistency in how it is taught.

Internalised stigma

If you are from a conservative religious or cultural background, you may be dealing with anti-LGBTQ+ attitudes in your family or community. This can lead to internalised stigma, shame and delayed self-acceptance. Research suggests that people from ethnic minority communities may have culturally specific challenges.

Coming out also isn’t one time event. You might choose different levels of openness depending on the context and may be more out in some spheres of life than others. You might be “out” to friends before telling family. It is also not always a linear process. Some people may “go back into the closet” due to negative reactions, experiences or social stigma.

My research with colleagues at Coventry University into so-called “conversion therapy” found that people who had been subjected to efforts to change their sexuality reported that they were discouraged from telling others they were LGBTQ+. Many also said that it negatively affected their mental health and delayed their self-acceptance.

It can take time to undo years of internalised stigma and shame, so be kind to yourself. Remember that negative thoughts and feelings about being LGBTQ+ are often rooted in messages from your social environment, not a reflection of your intrinsic worth.

Challenges and benefits of coming out later

While societal acceptance has progressed, coming out in your quarter life can present unique challenges. You may fear, for example, that it will impact relationships and friendships that you have established over many years.

If you are with a heterosexual partner in early adulthood, breaking the news to them and any children from the relationship can be particularly challenging.

On the other hand, coming out later may give you the benefit of a more developed understanding of yourself, and greater interpersonal skills gained from more life experience. You may also have more independence from your parents, which can help if they have a negative reaction.

Two men sit on the floor with a small toddler, all playing together as a family
It’s never too late to live as your authentic self.

How important is coming out?

Research suggests that living authentically is generally associated with greater psychological wellbeing. But coming out is an individual choice and no one should be pressured to disclose their LGBTQ+ status to others, particularly if it may put your safety at risk. LGBTQ+ people may be at risk of “honour”-based violence or forced marriage in some communities.

Meanwhile, concealing your identity can have complex mental health implications. While it might protect you from discrimination, keeping your authentic self a secret can be a significant source of stress.

If you are newly learning about your sexuality, identifying as LGBTQ+ or thinking about coming out, finding peer support can be helpful. You may want to join an LGBTQ+ group in your community or online, confide in a trusted person or seek support from a professional or an LGBTQ+ charity.

No one can tell you how to identify or whether you should come out, but they may help you to clarify your sense of self, explore the pros and cons of coming out and help you navigate the process.

Remember, your loved ones may experience a range of emotions when you come out to them. Give them time and space to process their own feelings. While their initial reaction might not be what you hope for, it doesn’t define your future relationship. With time to adjust, your relationship may even grow stronger.

Everyone’s journey is unique, and deciding whether and when to come out should be guided by personal comfort and safety. Ultimately, there’s no right time to come out, and it’s never too late to live authentically.

Complete Article HERE!

How To Talk To Your Doctor About Your Sexuality

By Jennifer Betts

You’ve probably planned on coming out about your sexuality to essential family members like your mom and dad. But have you ever thought about the importance of coming out to your doctor?

An open and honest relationship with your doctor is essential to getting care. This is especially true since there are specific needs that you might have as part of the LGBTQ+ community. As health family medicine physician Rita Lahlou, MD, MPH, told UNC Health Talk, “It’s important for people who identify with historically marginalized communities to find a primary care provider who will be supporting, affirming and understanding of them.”

With that said, the thought of a discussion about your health can be downright nerve-wracking. Whether you’re seeing a new doctor or talking with the doctor you’ve been seeing for years, here are a few tips and strategies to ensure that all your healthcare needs are met for your sexual health.

Set the tone about discussing your sexuality

Man talking with doctor

A person’s sex life and sexual preferences come into play when it comes to their overall care. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, about 1.2 million people in the U.S. are diagnosed with HIV, 63% of whom are gay or bisexual men. Additionally, young LGBTQ+ individuals are more likely to contemplate or attempt suicide due to how they are treated, per The Trevor Project.

And it’s not an area that many general practitioners might feel comfortable asking about. Research published in Sexual Medicine examined healthcare specialists’ avoidance of sex and sexuality. It stated that many specialists think that asking their patients about their sex life and sexuality could cause embarrassment, so it’s not something that might come up. However, creating the appropriate framework of trust and empathy between your doctor and you can make this discussion easier. Bringing the topic to the table first lets your provider know it’s not a taboo area to talk about.

If you or someone you know is struggling or in crisis, help is available. Call or text 988 or chat 988lifeline.org

Look for an LGBTQ-friendly provider

Stethoscope with a rainbow background

Since your sexuality is a crucial area of your life and who you are, having a physician or specialist who understands how to support the LGBTQ+ community can make talking about your sexuality easier. Look for a provider with an LGBTQ+ designation. According to Henry Ford, doctors with this designation complete additional clinical training for patients within this community, making them more likely to be knowledgeable in documenting sexual orientation and understanding the specific needs.

Finding an LGBTQ+-friendly provider might take some looking around. Paula Neira, Program Director of LGBTQ+ Equity and Education, told Johns Hopkins Medicine that there are databases by groups such as GLMA: Health Professionals Advancing LGBTQ Equality, but they aren’t exactly comprehensive. Thus, setting an appointment with a healthcare provider might require asking about their experience caring for LGBTQ+ patients. You can also ask others in the community to find a doctor they trust or have had a positive experience with.

Neira adds that not being open and honest with your provider could lead to missed screens, like those for cancer, especially for transgender individuals. Johns Hopkins Medicine also pointed out that seven out of ten LGBTQ+ members have received negative care, and connecting with a healthcare specialist competent in this field can alleviate that.

Bring your partner to the appointment

A couple with a baby on computer

It’s easier to talk about your sexuality when you have a loving person supporting you. Consider bringing your partner with you to discuss this with your provider. Not only can they hold your hand, but they might also be able to help you make sure you have all your bases covered.

Bringing your partner with you and introducing them to your doctor can quickly clarify your sexuality and cue your healthcare provider that it’s okay to broach the subject of your sexual orientation. According to family medicine physician Beth Careyva, MD, “By providing this information, we can make sure to offer preventative care screenings, as well as provide counseling on sexual health, lifestyle changes, and same-sex family planning” (via Lehigh Valley Health Network).

The Office of Disease Prevention and Health Promotion notes that having a support person during the visits can help ensure you keep track of your specialist’s advice and ask questions when something isn’t clearly explained.

Use techniques to calm nervousness

Woman focusing on breathing

The Center for American Progress points out that discrimination in the healthcare setting for the LGBTQ+ community leads to delays and access to needed medical care. It can affect not only patients, but their parents as well. This is especially true for those trying to find care for their transgender children. Thus, it’s not surprising that this topic might be uncomfortable for some to discuss with their doctor, leading to nervousness.

Fortunately, there are several techniques to calm the nerves before talking to your doctor about your sexuality. One of the best calming methods is focusing on breathing (via NHS). Get yourself in a comfortable position and let your breath flow. Focus on nothing but the movement of your chest and the refreshing air coming into your lungs for a steady five-count. Keep repeating until the doctor comes in so that you can talk to them with a clear, relaxed mind.

The Baton Rouge Clinic AMC states that it can be helpful to close your eyes and count to ten as you wait for your healthcare provider to enter the room. You can also try counting to 20 backward. Other calming techniques include chewing gum, smelling lavender, and listening to calming music. Once the doctor comes in, you can bring up your sexuality as part of your casual health conversation.

Be straightforward and honest

Woman talking to smiling doctor

It may be hard to be bold, but when it comes to your health, it’s not a time to be shy. Bring your sexuality to the table immediately. For example, introduce yourself to a new doctor with your name, preferred pronouns, and sexuality. Being matter-of-fact with your healthcare professional establishes honesty. With a current specialist, bring it up by saying, “I have a personal question…” states the National Institute on Aging.

Johns Hopkins Medicine also notes that you should set an agenda when talking to your doctor. It doesn’t have to be a long, intricate list, but outlining your sexuality and issues you would like to talk about will ensure that all your needs are met. According to Megan Moran-Sands, DO, a Geisinger pediatrician, “Your doctor and any healthcare professional you interact with will keep your information private.” Knowing this can help you not to feel so apprehensive.

And remember, your doctor wants honesty. Debra Roter, Dr.P.H., a professor at the Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health, noted, “It’s important to share things about your lifestyle, social obligations and relationships at home and at work. Sometimes patients are fearful that the doctor isn’t interested or that it isn’t relevant.” But having this information gives them a better understanding of your overall health.

Use questions as your guide

Patient asking doctor questions

If you’ve had a bad experience with a different healthcare provider regarding the topic of sexuality, you might be even more apprehensive about talking about it openly. In that case, using questions as your guide might be better. Giving your current provider hints about what you need to discuss allows them to bring the subject up and save you embarrassment.

For example, you might start off your conversation with your provider by discussing their knowledge of LGBTQ+ patients. During your initial interview with a new doctor, you might ask about their patient experience with sexuality and LGBTQ+ patients. Ask about their experience with transgender issues. LCMC Health states that it sets a tone with your provider, allowing them to draw the conversation toward your sexuality in a respectful manner. As the National Institute on Aging notes, asking questions is key to building open communication with your doctor to better understand medical issues, tests, and medications that can affect your sexual life.

Don’t put off talking about your sexuality

Couple talking with a doctor

The World Health Organization says that your sexual health is essential not just to your personal well-being, but also to that of your loved ones. Don’t overlook being committed to your sexual health with your doctor, since it can influence screenings, family counseling, testing, and more.

Understanding your sexual health also plays a vital role in sexually transmitted disease prevention, practicing safer sex, and your body image, states Healthline. In addition, it’s a key area of mental and emotional health, particularly for members of the LGBTQ+ community who experience “discrimination or cultural homophobia.” Per data presented by the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration, sexual minorities such as the LGBTQ+ community are more likely to have substance misuse and mental health issues.

As Dr. Megan Moran-Sands notes (via Geisinger), “It’s beneficial to share your sexual orientation with your doctor so you can get the most personalized care. You can be more open about your life and your choices, and you and your doctor can work together to create a plan for staying healthy.” Don’t wait to talk to your doctor about sexual health. Bring it to the discussion immediately to set the bar for all future appointments.

If you or anyone you know needs help with addiction issues, help is available. Visit the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration website or contact SAMHSA’s National Helpline at 1-800-662-HELP (4357).

Tips for making the talk about sexuality easier

Person in waiting room

Sexuality and sexual health should not be taboo topics, and are nothing to feel ashamed about. Remember that no matter what, your doctor is there to help. To make things a bit easier during your appointment, Willis-Knighton Health System suggests writing down the items you want to discuss on a phone or piece of paper to avoid forgetting what you want to say in case you suddenly feel uneasy.

Since talking about sexual health can be difficult face-to-face, you might also want to take advantage of telehealth consultations to discuss these issues. It might be easier for you to talk about sexual orientation, sexual problems, and gender in the comfort of your own home. Your provider can ask questions to get the necessary tests or medications (via the International Society for Sexual Medicine). Telehealth might also be the best way to connect with a doctor that is LGBTQ+-friendly.

Lastly, it helps to give your doctor a heads-up. For example, you can tell your healthcare provider during your initial appointment that you would like to speak to them about sexuality. You can also let them know that you’re nervous. This way, they can have questions ready to help you overcome your negative feelings.

Complete Article HERE!

‘This Book is Gay’

— Provides comprehensive, and inclusive, sexual education

“This Book is Gay,” by Juno Dawson.

By Ali Velshi and Hannah Holland

“This Book is Gay,” by Juno Dawson, starts with a welcome: “There’s a long-running joke that, on ‘coming out,’ a young lesbian, gay guy, bisexual, or trans person should receive a membership card and instruction manual. This is your instruction manual.” And “This Book is Gay” reads as exactly that: a guide.

Each fact-based chapter is interspersed with a candid, first-person narrative collected from real people.

Equal parts humorous and informative, this nonfiction young adult book is divided into sections: identity, stereotypes, queer history, coming out and relationships — including sexual relationships. Each fact-based chapter is interspersed with candid, first-person narratives collected from real people.

Dawson is a guide with credentials, having spent nearly a decade as a sexual education and wellness teacher in the U.K. before turning to writing full-time. She came out as transgender publicly in 2015 and is a staunch advocate for the LGBTQ+ community.

“The Ins and Outs of Gay Sex,” a chapter positioned toward the end of the book, opens with text outlined to make you take notice, “This Chapter is about sex. […] If you are a younger reader and feel you aren’t ready for the finer details of same-sex pairings, then simply skip this whole chapter.” The chapter goes on to include potentially lifesaving information on sexually transmitted infections, including HIV and AIDS, diagrams of sexual organs, like you might see in health class, and a commentary on love and relationships.

It is this section that is referenced most frequently in the relentless calls to ban this book across the United States.

Much has been written about the sheer number of books banned these past two school years (a record 1,477 instances of individual books banned in the first half of this school year according to PEN America) and the fact that a disproportionately high number of those titles tell LGBTQ+ stories. “This Book is Gay” is frequently near the top of the American Library Association’s list of most banned books.

Most of the books we feature on the “Velshi Banned Book Club” are literature, including contemporary works of poetry and graphic novels. The conversation surrounding the accessibility of those works is ultimately a conversation about the value of literature for students and for society. Conversely, the conversation surrounding “This Book is Gay” is about the necessity for comprehensive and, most importantly, inclusive sexual education. As Dawson so saliently reminds readers, the exclusion of same-sex couples in the typical sex-ed class is nothing short of “institutional homophobia.”

Sexual education of any kind is rapidly disappearing and changing across the nation. Florida’s Broward County, which includes Fort Lauderdale, ended this school year with no sexual education at all. Georgia’s Gwinnett County, just outside of Atlanta, has voted to stick with abstinence-only education. School districts across Kentucky have had to overhaul their curriculum to comply with new bans on sex education, gender identity and student pronouns. This is happening all over the nation, state by state.

Of course, many of the arguments made against “This Book is Gay” center around antiquated views of gender expression and sexuality, but they’re also made in bad faith, including labeling this book as “inappropriate.” For a certain age group, this book is inappropriate. This book is not for young children — which is why it is not written for or marketed to them. Educators and proponents of inclusive sexual education, who may have used this book as an educational resource or noted its spot on a library shelf, are not intending for it to be used to teach young children.

Florida’s Broward County, which includes Fort Lauderdale, ended this school year with no sexual education at all.

“This Book is Gay” is for those young adults already grappling with their sexuality and identity. It is for those who are already looking for a safe space, understanding, or a guide through the dense jungle of teenage years. A group, I might add, that has had access to the full depths of the internet for their entire lives. It is the best-case, and least-likely, scenario that any one of them learned about sex, relationships and sexual identity through school-mandated sexual education or with the help of books that could be read and discussed with their parents.

The reality is this: At some point between high school, college and young adulthood, most everyone will be confronted with a situation related to sex and sexuality. “I didn’t know anything about myself. […] I was so unprepared and, now as an adult I see that I was left very vulnerable. I didn’t fully understand consent, I didn’t fully understand boundaries, I didn’t understand that I could say no to things,” explains Dawson in an interview on the Velshi Banned Book Club.

Relationships can be the most beautiful and rewarding part of life, and they can also be the most damaging, physically and emotionally. By prohibiting access to valuable resources like “This Book is Gay,” we are leaving already vulnerable LGBTQ+ young adults with nowhere to turn.

Sending our young people, regardless of sexual orientation, into the world without a comprehensive understanding of how to prevent sexually transmitted infections or pregnancy is a huge problem. Sending our young people into the world without a conversation about what respect looks like within a relationship is a major issue. Sending our young people into the world without a conversation about who exactly they are is nothing short of a crisis.

Complete Article HERE!

I’m a bi woman with a husband.

— How do I explore my identity?

Can I be married to a man and still fancy women?

By Alice Snape

“It was probably BDSM,” my friend Laura* smirks. We’re at a school reunion, standing outside a bar in my hometown smoking a cigarette. Passing it back and forth in that intimate way we used to. I don’t smoke anymore, but the occasion seems to invite it.

She was my best friend, in that all-consuming way that teenage girls can be. Now we’re looking back at what we used to do with each other — perhaps we were in a relationship, we just didn’t know we could be, no words to define how we felt.

During my twenties, I slipped on the uniform of heterosexuality easily. Hungrily kissing men on sticky dance floors and taking them back to mine for one-night stands. When I’d snog Laura, put my fingers in her knickers and run my hands over her arse, I thought I was performing for the men watching from the dark corners of the dingy nightclub we went to every weekend. I wanted to turn them on.

But there were no prying eyes when we got home. I’d tell her what to do and she’d comply with a submissive giggle. A kinky sort of power play. I now know — when we touched, kissed, explored — that it was sex. My ’90s education meant I thought it was only sex when it was penis-in-vagina sex. I remember being given a book about “where babies come from.” I didn’t understand the nuances of women’s sexuality. I wish I’d known then what I know now.

I love looking at women. I fancy women. I want to acknowledge Laura as one of the first great loves of my life, more than just an old schoolmate. But what can I do now that it’s 20 years later and I’m in a monogamous marriage with a man, outwardly heterosexual to those who look in? I decided to set on a journey — meeting experts and others on sexual re-awakenings along the way — to find out.

Am I bisexual?

I started my quest as so many have before — online. Furiously typing questions like, “can I be bisexual if I’m married to a man?” “What even is bisexuality?” “I’m married to a man but I fancy women too, is this okay?” I briefly wonder how it might have been different for my 16-year-old self as I discover other sexually curious women hiding in corners on Reddit, Twitter, Instagram. There’s communities of women just like me.

Women like 39-year-old Cassie Brooks, too. She’s been happily married to a man for 15 years. When we start chatting, it feels like an outpouring. “I think about women often and have deep friendships and connections with the women in my life,” she confesses. But Cassie grew up in a deeply religious family, although she’s since walked away from her Christian faith.

Her realisation — a sort of epiphany — came when she was in a swimming pool with one of her mates. “She wrapped her arms around me from behind. It elicited warm, fuzzy feelings inside me,” Cassie tells me. “It felt charged, magnetic. I turned in her arms and asked, ‘do you feel this?’ She nodded and giggled and splashed me with water.” Cassie struggled with these feelings because she loves her husband. It felt like she was “cheating,” even though they hadn’t kissed.

This sexual fluidity — identifying as straight, then fancying someone of the same gender — has also shown up in research, too. When I contact sociologist and psychosexual psychotherapist Jordan Dixon(opens in a new tab) to help me unravel how I am feeling she points me towards a study by psychologist Lisa Diamond. ‘Female bisexuality from adolescence to adulthood’(opens in a new tab) was conducted on 79 women over the course of ten years. Two-thirds of the women changed the identity labels they’d claimed at the beginning, with a third changing multiple times. By the end, more women identified as bisexual or chose to have no label at all, rather than say they were straight.

Another study(opens in a new tab) found that women are often influenced by romantic opportunities rather than being rigid in their attractions. “Women’s sexuality may be more flexible and adaptive than men’s,” commented the study’s author Elizabeth Aura McClintock, an assistant professor of sociology at the University of Notre Dame. “Having flexible sexual attractions may grant greater importance to contextual and experiential factors when it comes to sexual identity.” These findings were also reflected in the 2020 census in the UK(opens in a new tab), more women than men said they were bisexual – 1.6 percent of women compared to 0.9 percent of men.

Embracing the bi side of me

“I’m not straight, I just love dick,” when the character Arabella (Michaela Coel) uttered those words in BBC drama I May Destroy You(opens in a new tab), I’d never felt so understood. I roll them over in my mind as I fill in the application to Skirt Club(opens in a new tab) — a private network for straight and bisexual women who are sexually curious. When the form asks about my sexuality, I tick the box that says: mostly straight but more than incidentally homosexual. I don’t even know if that fits how I feel.

Skirt Club was founded by Genevieve LeJeune in 2014, mostly because she was looking for other women like her. “Bisexuality is this grey area,” she tells me over Zoom, “a huge taboo attached to it. When I started using the label bisexual, people kept asking me the same questions: what’s wrong? Why can’t you choose?”

“When I started using the label bisexual, people kept asking me the same questions: what’s wrong? Why can’t you choose?”

I tell LeJeune how I’ve been feeling. I’m compelled to reveal my past with Laura and that I’m with a man but I think about women. That I’ve never really said out loud that I think I’m bisexual. She invites me to one of Skirt Club’s signature parties at a secret location in London. “Women act differently without men,” LeJeune says.

And I can see that as soon as I step into this new world, wearing a silk dress and knee high boots. One of the hostesses attaches a key to my wrist. It shows that I’m new (usually around 70 percent of those attending are there for the first time) and unlocks the start of a journey.

I sip on a glass of bubbles and settle in a corner to observe. A woman in a tight red dress gives me the eye. She also has a key dangling down her hand. Her fingertips graze my thigh. She’ll never date a man again, she tells me with vitriol. She’s clearly experienced too much hurt.

After an orientation speech stating the importance of consent, the bar area clears quickly and I wonder where everyone’s gone. I head upstairs to the bedrooms. There’s a smell of sex — sweet and sensuous — and a mass of writhing naked women that looks like some kind of Pre-Raphaelite painting come to life, reimagined in 2023 for a female gaze.

Most of the women hadn’t met until that moment. I think about all those myths that are rammed into us, that women need an emotional connection to climax. Maybe what they actually needed was to be in a room full of other women. I didn’t join in. I didn’t have to, to enjoy it. Just being there was enough. I felt seen, understood.

A coming out, of sorts

I realised how much I’ve internalised myths and stereotypes, inhaled them as facts that I need to let go. That key from Skirt Club has unlocked something. My friend tells me about a book that blew her mind and urges me to read it. Untrue by writer and social researcher Wednesday Martin unravels why nearly everything we believe about women and lust is false. In a chapter called “Women Who Love Sex Too Much,” Martin introduces us to Dr. Meredith Chivers who did a study on women’s and men’s reactions to porn. Predictably, self-identifying straight men had the strongest reaction to guy-on-girl action. In contrast, women — even those who said they were straight — had physical responses to everything: a woman having sex with a woman, man-on-man action, and even bonobos getting down to it.

Mostly, what I’ve discovered is that sexual identity is complex. “Some women may be attracted to other women, but they may not wish to act upon it,” says Dixon, who implores anyone reading this to ask themselves: What would labelling mean to you? What do you want? Why? What would it mean for your partner to bear witness to that? “For those in hetero relationships, whether we decide to tell our partners or not, it can help to know that this doesn’t mean our decision is always fixed,” she assures.

Having experience doesn’t define sexuality.

According to research by Pew Research Center(opens in a new tab) in the U.S., only 19 percent of bisexuals are “out.” And although I’m writing this, I don’t think I feel the need to explicitly “come out” to anyone. According to therapist Chris Sheridan(opens in a new tab), the act of coming out can actually be disempowering to some. “It implies there’s a secret or it’s owed to heteronormative society,” Sheridan explains. Instead, do it on your terms. “Some people choose not to come out, others opt for coming out to some people and not others. It’s up to you.”

For Cassie, this looks like telling her husband how she feels. “To my relief, he said ‘I know.’ He asked me if I still loved him and I said yes.” Their marriage is monogamous but Cassie knowing this about herself is enough for now — having experience doesn’t define sexuality. “I 100 percent consider myself bisexual,” she says. “It took me a little while to associate that as part of my identity because I didn’t have experience. But the definition is attraction to both genders — I definitely fit that.”

As for me, I’m holding on to the advice from the therapists I spoke to: “Give yourself permission to fully fantasise about different genders during solo sex,” Sherdian told me. And “personal intimacy with ourselves means creating a private zone,” says Dixon, “it’s a space – physical, emotional, intellectual – that belongs only to us and we can play with whoever we like in our minds. Everyone can cultivate a secret erotic fantasy garden to play in.”

And what I witnessed at Skirt Club, just conjuring it in my mind makes me wet. So does lesbian porn. So does having sex with my husband. So, too, does a plethora of other things. Holding this knowledge about my shapeshifting sexuality feels powerful. I can’t be all parts of myself to everyone at all times. And those fragments of myself are also constantly in flux. This is a moment in time and right now I’m bisexual — regardless of my relationship status. I can’t wait to see what comes next… but I doubt I will ever say I’m straight again.

*name has been changed

Complete Article HERE!

How to deal with nerves the first time you have same-sex sex

By

Okay, so you’re pondering having sex with someone of the same gender for the first time.

Feeling nervous? Don’t panic – that’s totally normal.

‘Same-sex sex can feel daunting even if you’ve had plenty of “straight” sex before,’ sex and relationships expert Annabelle Knight tells Metro.co.uk. ‘The reason it feels so different is because… it is!

‘The idea of first time same-sex can feel scary because it’s an entirely new experience. Nerves are part and parcel of pushing yourself out of your usual space and into something new.’

There’s a lot of fear when trying anything new (including queer sex) that you’ll get stuff wrong, that you’ll be rubbish, that it’ll be embarrassing.

It’s all perfectly natural, but when the nerves are overwhelming, it’s time to tackle them.

So, how do we do that?

Reframe anxiety as excitement

You’re about to do something new – what if instead of viewing that as a scary thing, you see it as exciting?

‘Try to focus on the positives. As with lots of new experiences things can seem daunting, however if you re-package nerves as excitement then you’ll be able to build what’s known as “positive anticipation”, which will help you to really get the most out of the experience as a whole,’ Annabelle suggests.

Reframe anxiety as excitement

Talk about it

You don’t need to pretend to be totally cool or act like you know what you’re doing. It’s actually pretty endearing to openly say that you’re a touch nervous.

‘We can combat nerves by opening up communication with our partner, or if you feel able to, telling them that you might be feeling a bit nervous,’ says Lelo’s sex and relationships expert Kate Moyle.

Redefine sex

You might still be holding on to a traditional definition of sex, viewing it only as penis in vagina penetration.

The reality is that sex can encompass all sorts of joyous things – stroking, licking, caressing…

And the thing is, if you’ve been in ‘straight’ sex setups before, you’ve likely played with all of these bits of sex. Remembering that makes same-sex sex feel a lot less scary.

‘Appreciate that there’s more to sex than penetration alone,’ Annabelle says. ‘This means that everything from kissing, cuddling and sensual massage can fall under the banner of sex.

‘Great sex is how you define it so don’t feel constrained by the idea that penetration = proper sex.’

Be playful

Hey, this is supposed to be fun.

‘Even if we haven’t had a sexual experience with someone of the same gender before, bodies are still sensual and sensitive – be creative and playful with your touch, which will help to build up arousal and desire,’ suggests Kate.

Keep communication open

Bring in sex toys

Sex toys are not a necessity, but they can be a bonus – and can definitely help to relieve the pressure of delivering an orgasm with your hands and genitals alone.

Don’t feel pressured to orgasm every time

Not climaxing doesn’t mean you’ve ‘failed’. It’s the journey that counts, and every bit of sex can be a glorious experience – not just the orgasm.

Keep the communication going

‘Vocalise what you are feeling using positive encouragement,’ recommends Kate, ‘so letting them know what feel’s good for you.’

Embrace uncertainty

Annabelle adds: ‘To get the most out of your first same-sex experience make sure you’re in the right head space.

‘You don’t need to have everything figured out, nor do you need to put a label on yourself – instead embrace the fact that you’re ready to experiment and open yourself up to a different type of connection.’

Top tips for great first-time same-sex sex

Trim your nails

‘Long fingernails look great but can be a bit of a pain in the clit when it comes to same-sex experiences,’ notes Annabelle.

Lube

One thing Annabelle recommends for great same-sex sex? ‘Lube, lube, and more lube!’

‘Anal doesn’t just happen, she notes. ‘The anus isn’t self-lubricating and needs a lot of help in that department. A good quality water based lube is a fabulous all-rounder. It’s skin safe, toy safe, and condom safe too.’

Lube is great for vaginas, too, particularly if the woman you’re dating is going through menopause or has given birth (both of which can cause hormones to drop and dryness to occur).

Wetter is better, so feel free to lube liberally.

Stay safe

Pregnancy won’t be a risk during same-sex sex, but make sure you’re still protecting yourself from STIs. Condoms, dental dams – all necessary.

Oh, and ‘if you’re sharing sex toys make sure you give them a clean between uses,’ says Annabelle.

Explore different turn-on spots

‘For women and vulva owners the clitoris is the source of most sensitivity and sexual pleasure, and most women report orgasming via direct clitoral stimulation,’ Kate tells us. ‘But having said that, take your time to explore sensually and not just focusing on the areas of the body commonly associated with sex.

‘This build up gives the body a chance to sexually warm up and become aroused which is key to pleasure.’

Complete Article HERE!

A Beginner’s Guide to Going Gay

By

As your least favorite brand has likely reminded you in an emoji-filled mailer that you just can’t seem to unsubscribe from, it’s Pride month again. And so begins the annual wheel of discourse: Should Pride be a party or a protest? Has it been co-opted by big brands? Is the rainbow actually ugly? Should the police be banned from marching at Pride? Yes, yes, yes, yes.

But ladies, I’m tired of the wheel. It’s been a hard 30 years for me as a non-binary homosexual on this cis, straight planet. And so for this year’s Pride, as a treat to myself, I’ve decided I’m taking some time off. I’m done with waiting at the doors of big companies who are desperately trying not to get canceled, and asking for inclusion with big puppy dog eyes. I’m tired of writing explainers on how to be a good ally to a trans person. (For that, read Shon Faye.) And no, I don’t want a credit card with two men kissing on it. I don’t need a drink that is pink! Why is this sidewalk painted rainbow?!

Yes, I’ve decided for this Pride month I’m finally going to be really honest—really, really honest—about what we LGBTQs get up to all year round when our image isn’t being co-opted by a smoothie company. Because when you aren’t looking, we gays are plotting and planning the Gay Agenda. The Gay Agenda which, to terrify all of my loyal conservative fans, always has been and always will be about making as many people gay as possible. Queer as possible. Trans as possible. And so this Pride month, as your agony aunt here at Vogue, I am here to deliver to you the LGBTQ+ message: I’m here to tell you that it’s time to go gay.

Everyone’s doing it. Chrishell from Selling Sunset did it; your ex-best friend’s mum from high school did it; loads of celebs who can’t be named did it; hey, you probably already did it in college. And while I’m aware it’s not a choice, let me tell you, if it was, I’d choose it! It’s way more fun, and way more flirty, than straight life.

Here in LGBTQ+ Town, we get to party until we’re in our mid-sixties, at which point we’re held up as community icons. We get to wear leather without looking try-hard, we get to watch unhinged drag queens fall over in dive bars, and we get to holiday in homes in Tangier owned by “interior decoration gays.” We’re statistically more likely to be chic and fashionable (although some gay men seem to want to actively exclude themselves from this one) and people—literally, like, everyone—are desperate for our approval. We have more sex than our straight counterparts, we are better at everything than our heterosexual peers (there are no stats on this, but it’s true), and we get to say things like “J’adore” and mean it both ironically and unironically.

We have the best literature, from Giovanni’s Room to Detransition, Baby. The best film and theater, from Pink Flamingos to A Strange Loop. The best fashion, from Thierry Mugler to Telfar. The best art too, from the Sistine Chapel to Leigh Bowery. What do the straights have? Chinos and golf tournaments? Marriage and a Volvo? Yep, you got it—being gay is better. It’s chicer. It’s hotter. So what are you waiting for?

A note on how you’re likely to be viewed after doing so. The people around you are no longer strangers, commuters, or fellow diners at Chinese Tuxedo. No. As part of the LGBTQ+ community, you will be forced into visibility. Sometimes you’ll like it, sometimes you’ll hate it. A healthy way to deal with this, though—which my therapist has strongly advised against—is to start calling those around you your “audience.” “Fans” also works, but the truth is that audience implies a much more generous, symbiotic, artistic relationship between you and this woman who is staring at you at the crosswalk.

It’s also time to get really good at sex. Alas, I don’t make the rules. But if there is one thing that unites every LGBTQ+ person I know, it’s that we are good at sex. You don’t have to be kinky—although you can also be as kinky as they come—but we are frankly superior in bed. After all, why go through all of the boring drama of coming out and detailing exactly how you’re going to have sex to your own mother if you’re not going to actually be good at it? It’s time to transcend the dynamic of the jackrabbit and the wet flannel. You are a sex phoenix, and you’re rising from the ashes.

A note on coming out. Everyone—well, a lot of brands—will tell you you have to come out. But you don’t. Screw it. You don’t owe explaining yourself to anyone. Of course, try not to stay too repressed and then let those bottled-up feelings turn you into a psychopathic murderer, or perhaps worse, very very homophobic, but your sexuality and gender are all yours. Come out to who you want. Don’t come out to who you don’t want.

Finally, don’t be mean. We all go through a phase of feeling really pissed off with the world for making it harder for us—and so we wake up every day and heave on our suit of bitchy armor and slag off everyone around us and make it a bit. And sure, people love it, but eventually, they’ll wonder if you talk about them behind their backs too, and in the end, it won’t make you happy. Instead, engage with your community—go to the gay bar, read about queer history, or host a book brunch for you and the girlies.

That’s right, these days, you can literally have it all. (Even children!) But first, you have to simply take the plunge this Pride month: Get in loser, we’re going gay.

Complete Article HERE!

Student banned from saying ‘gay’ cleverly uses ‘curly hair’ as metaphor to talk about his sexual orientation

Zander Moricz, Florida class president of Pine View, talked about his ‘curly hair’ in a heartfelt speech and used it as an analogy for his sexuality. Zander had to adhere to restrictons because of Florida’s controversial ‘Don’t Say Gay’ laws in schools.

The curly hair metaphor that everyone loved

A college student banned from using the word ‘gay‘ at his graduation speech used a clever metaphor to speak about his sexual orientation.

Zander Moricz, Florida class president of Pine View, talked about his ‘curly hair’ in a heartfelt speech and used it as an analogy for his sexuality.

Zander had to adhere to restrictions because of Florida’s controversial ‘Don’t Say Gay’ laws in schools.

So as the high school graduate began his speech, he replaced gay with ‘curly hai’. By doing so, he left audiences in awe and also drew worldwide attention to his activism for the LGBTQIA+ community.

“I must discuss a very public part of my identity. This characteristic has probably become the first thing you think of me as a human being. As you know, I have curly hair,” said Zander, while speaking at the Van Wezel Performing Arts Hall

The clip showing his speech has now collected over 8.4 million views on Twitter.

The teenager even removed his mortarboard cap and unveiled his curly hair to the audience.
“I used to hate my curls. I spent mornings and nights embarrassed of them, trying to desperately straighten this part of who I am. But the daily damage of trying to fix myself became too much to endure,” he said.

He further added: “So while having curly hair in Florida is difficult, due to the humidity, I decided to be proud of who I was and started coming to school as my authentic self.”

Staying on the metaphor, Zander went on to say the growth of his ‘hair’ was a messy process but he came out well due to the support of his friends and teachers.

He ended his speech by saying it was important for him to speak up about his curly hair and other curly-haired students who are adjusting to ‘Florida’s humidity’.

The moving speech comes a few months after the controversial ‘Do Say Gay’ bill was signed and passed by the state. The bill prevents the teaching of sexual orientation and gender identity from pre-school to third grade.

Complete Article HERE!

Two women share what it’s like to come out later in life

For many years, Marija was happy but knew deep down something was missing in her relationships.

By Tahnee Jash

She had been in two long-term partnerships with men. The first led to marriage, and the second to a son.

It wasn’t until she was 40 that she met, and fell in love with, a woman.

“Before I came out, I met someone I decided to act on,” Marija, 76, tells ABC podcast, Ladies, We Need To Talk.

“That was a turning point that I wish to God I had done in my teens but then of course, I wouldn’t have had my son.”

She has now been in a committed relationship with a woman for the last 25 years.

‘I was afraid of being judged’

Marija, who came to Australia as a WWII refugee, says she was always attracted to women but wasn’t sure how her family would respond.

“[I come from a] migrant background and everyone was married, they were building up a new life in this country, and I don’t think my family would have understood,” she says.

“I was terribly afraid of being judged by them and losing their love.”

Marija had a great relationship with her second partner, who has since passed away, and when she made the decision to come out, he was very supportive.

“I think he suspected [it]. Then when I did tell him he kept saying, ‘The only thing that matters is your happiness’,” she says.

While Marija’s son took some time getting used to seeing his mum with another woman, he now has a great relationship with them both.

“He withdrew for a little while and then after he got to know my partner and realised that she wasn’t taking me away from [him and his dad] he did a flip and became her best friend.”

Sexuality is fluid and can change over time

When Marija was coming to terms with her identity 36 years ago, sexuality was not as openly discussed or understood.

“I had a very high-profile job with local newspapers and magazines, and I felt that that would have been jeopardised. In those days, comments about homosexuality were not very pleasant,” she says.

Dr Lisa Diamond, professor of psychology and gender studies at the University of Utah, has been researching sexual identity for over 30 years.

She says for many years, women were “socialised to think about female sexuality as shameful”.

“Most women develop an alienated relationship with their own sexuality because every time they have a sexual desire, they repress it,” she says.

Influences around us — from our family to the movies we watch — also encourage what we think.

“The idea is that there is this pressure on all women to be heterosexual and this inability to even think of anything else that prevents a lot of women from knowing what they actually want,” says Dr Diamond.

There’s also pressure to have this all worked out once you hit adulthood and is why some women come out later in life, especially after a big life event.

“The capacity for a same-sex relationship might have been there from the beginning but if you don’t have a chance to articulate that to yourself, then it might take a big life transition to wake up and actually ask yourself what you actually want,” Dr Diamond explains.

“We know that sexuality is a complicated spectrum that changes over time.”

‘Our focus was on the children’

Like Marija, Jennifer came out in her 40s.

She says her conservative, religious upbringing was part of the reason she couldn’t understand or explore her sexuality.

Her first experience of dating was in her late 20s, with her husband who she had two children with and was in a relationship for 24 years.

“Our focus was on the children, [not] on me. Having said that, I was struggling inside but I just put my energy on them and brushed myself aside,” Jennifer, 61, says.

It was after watching a documentary about lesbians in Melbourne that Jennifer experienced an epiphany.

Jennifer didn’t know what to do next.

“I [thought I] can’t tell anyone, I’m married. I’m going to have to hold this inside me and never say anything,” she says.

After suppressing this for two years, a fatal accident involving her brother pushed her feelings to the forefront and that’s the moment Jennifer decided to come out.

“It was like my subconscious was saying, ‘Come on, life is short you’ve got to do something about this’,” she says.

It was in the months that followed that she decided to come out to her family and friends. After sitting in her lounge room for four hours rehearsing what she was going to say, she finally worked up the courage to tell her husband.

“It was a relief for us both because it made sense to everything in our world,” Jennifer says.

“He [replied and said] ‘Yes, I reckon a lot of women feel this in middle age’ and that was it. It was like we could breathe.”

Coming out to the family

During a countryside drive, Jennifer decided to tell her children too.

“I’m very close to my children and I just knew they’d know there was something weird going on with me. So I chose [to tell them] driving in the car one day,” Jennifer says.

“The words [were] like this vomit coming and [I said], ‘I’ve got something to tell you’ and I said, ‘I’m gay,’ Jennifer says.

“One of them is just like, ‘stop the car [so I can] get out’ and the other one said, ‘we just want you to be happy’.”

Both her children came to accept her news and Jennifer has a great relationship with them today.

Going through this experience and learning more about herself, Jennifer says hersexuality is more about the individual, rather than a label.

“For me, it’s about fluidity so I don’t call myself a lesbian,” she says.

“It’s more about the person I’m with; I don’t like [using] categories.”

Complete Article HERE!

Straight Guys Ask Gay Guys Sex Questions

— Things Get Really Awkward

“How many butt holes have you seen?”

By

If you’ve ever wanted to watch a bunch of well-intentioned straight men ask gay men questions about sex, relationships, and coming out, this BuzzFeed video has you covered.

Watching straight men stare at their feet and fumble through asking questions like, “What if you’re both bottoms or both tops?” and, “Would you rather a just-a-little-bit-smaller-than-an-average dick or a way-too-big-to-do-anything-with dick?” (spoiler: it’s the too-big dick) is the most awkward thing I’ve watched in a while. Mostly because I’m now convinced that more straight men need to be friends with gay men stat so they’re not as painfully nervous and weird around them.

Plus, how cool would it be to see your straight guy friends and gay guy friends chilling and talking about “when the butt hole falls out”? Pretty cool.

Complete Article HERE!

Am I Gay?

– Resources and Support if You’re Discovering Your Sexual Orientation

by

Questions about your sexual identity can be complicated. There are tons of words to describe different sexual orientations: lesbian, gay, bisexual, asexual, queer, pansexual, and so many more. You may be wondering which one fits you best, if any. It’s important to keep in mind that labels can be helpful in understanding your sexual identity, but if you feel like there isn’t a particular label that suits you, that’s okay and doesn’t mean your identity is any less valid.

For some people, the question of “am I gay” is easy to answer. Some people can point to a moment when they knew they were gay, and others feel like they’ve always just known. For others, their journey of discovering their sexuality can be a little less linear. There’s no wrong way to go about it.

But by definition, to identify as gay would mean that you feel sexual and/or romantic attraction to someone of your same gender identity, says LGBTQ+ expert Kryss Shane. “Sometimes it’s a general awareness, other times it’s self-recognition from a same-sex friendship that begins to feel like something more, and sometimes it’s through sexual exploration,” Shane explains.

If you think that you might be gay, here are some resources and things to keep in mind as you explore your sexuality.

You don’t have to have it all figured out.

Like we said, there are a lot of terms people use to describe their sexual identity and/or gender orientation. Some of them might even feel like they fit for a while, but you could later decide that they don’t really describe who you are. Learning about yourself and your sexuality is a journey, and it’s actually a really beautiful thing.

Your safety is important.

If you don’t feel it’s safe for you to be out in certain contexts—whether with family, at work, at school, or anywhere else—you should trust that instinct. It doesn’t mean you’re denying who you are, it means you’re making the best and safest decision for you.

You don’t have to justify or explain your identity to anyone you don’t want to.

If you want to share your journey with people in your life, go for it! But if you’re not ready to come out yet or share this part of yourself with people, that’s okay, too. You can share as much or as little as you want when it comes to your sexual orientation.

You aren’t alone.

Although your journey with your sexual orientation is unique, you don’t have to do it alone. If it feels safe, you can include your loved ones as you figure it all out, but if that’s not an option for you, you’re still not alone. There are tons of supportive LGBTQ+ people who can support you on your journey.

Some organizations you might want to look into if you’re trying to find your LGBTQ+ community are:

  • PFLAG. There are over 400 chapters across 50 states, so you can connect with LGBTQ+ people in your area who have been where you are.
    • Q Chat Space. If you’re between the ages of 13 and 19 and questioning your sexuality, you can join live online chats for LGBTQ+ and questioning teens facilitated by experienced staff who work at LGBTQ+ centers around the country.
    • TrevorSpace. This is an online community for LGBTQ+ young people ages 13 to 24, where you can join discussion groups and get advice from other people.
    • Your local LGBTQ+ community center. If you live in an area with a dedicated LGBTQ+ community center, they likely have support groups for people who are LGBTQ+ or questioning their sexual identity. They may also have groups for LGBTQ+ people of specific races, ethnicities, ages, or other intersecting identities.
    • Your local community center. Even if you don’t have an LGBTQ+ community center, your local community center may have an LGBTQ+ support group or LGBTQ+ social events that you can check out.

    Find support and comfort through queer representation.

    Reading books about LGBTQ+ people or watching LGBTQ+ movies can help you make sense of your own identity. There are tons of movies and TV shows with gay, queer, and lesbian representation that you can stream. Or you can start getting into the many LGBTQ+ podcasts out there, from ones that teach you about queer history to ones that address issues that LGBTQ+ people face today.

    You can always reach out for help if you need it.

    In addition to the above organizations that provide support groups and other forums for connecting with LGBTQ+ people, there are plenty of other resources you can turn to as you figure things out.

    • The Trevor Project. The Trevor Project has tons of resources to help you learn about different sexual orientations, mental health, gender identity, and more. They also offer LGBTQ+ informed crisis counselors you can talk to via chat, phone, or text.
    • The LGBT National Help Center. This organization operates three national hotlines to provide peer support, information, and other resources to LGBTQ people. They also offer support via online chat and weekly moderated chats for LGBTQ youth.
    • The It Gets Better Project. It Gets Better helps highlight stories and connect lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and queer youth around the world. They also have a resource page where you can find information and support about everything from crisis resources to legal assistance to housing insecurity, with a focus on LGBTQ+ people.

    Complete Article HERE!

  • You shouldn’t feel pressured to define your sexuality

    By Peyton Jeffers

    How do you know if you’re gay or bi?

    If you were like me at 12 years old, no amount of anxiously Googling “Am I gay?” or frantically taking quizzes that promise to reveal your true sexual orientation gave any insight into what your sense of sexual identity or lived experiences would be.

    I turned to the internet for information because the messages I received in school or from popular culture about sexuality were not congruent with my thoughts and feelings. I felt I didn’t fit in either category I had been exposed to at the time — “gay” or “straight.”

    So, if you’re asking yourself this question, you’re probably trying to describe your sexual identity to yourself and the people around you in a way that makes you feel comfortable. 

    Questioning or challenging your sexuality can feel both confusing and isolating, but take a breath. You’re not alone.

    Traditional models of understanding sexuality tend to center around one aspect: our sexual orientation. This model says you can be attracted to the same sex and/or gender, the opposite sex and/or gender, or people of either.

    These models are limiting because their language and definitions often assume gender and sex are binary. They don’t account for aspects of sexuality outside of gender, such as the different kinds of sex or sensations we like or the levels of physical or emotional attraction we experience with others.

    It might be helpful to consider who you are attracted to in these ways. 

    Are you attracted to same-sex, different sex or intersex people? People who are androgynous, masculine or femme presenting? Are you attracted to people who are genderqueer, genderfluid, transgender and/or nonbinary? Simply people regardless of their gender presentation or sex?

    If you’re afraid of claiming a specific identity because you’re unsure, then know you can also identify as gay, bisexual, questioning or otherwise without any experience or desire for physical intimacy. 

    Relationships require vulnerability and an understanding of how to be romantically or emotionally available with other people, and sometimes these feelings don’t align with our behavior or sexual attraction.

    Genevieve Labe, a Ph.D. student and adjunct faculty member teaching human sexuality at the IU School of Public Health, said they don’t think there’s a clear answer to the reader’s question because the way people ascribe labels to themselves varies person-to-person.

    “How I might feel or determine how I identify could be so different for someone else,” they said. “I think whatever feels right in the moment is good. My question back to you is why do we need that label?”

    Labe said labels can help us make sense of the world, but it’s important for us to think about the trauma labels have inflicted on people in the queer community, whether it be lingering stereotypes or forcing ourselves to stick to labels once we’ve claimed them.

    How we interpret ourselves is dependent on the tools we have available. Knowing this, we can accept our sexualities are subject to change as new information and experiences become available over the course of our lives.

    For example, if you’re someone who has identified as gay but end up feeling attraction to someone of a different gender, you shouldn’t feel pressured to prohibit that based on a label, Labe said.

    On the contrary, it’s also completely valid to want to identify yourself with a label that feels most affirming to you when you use it.

    “Labels should not be boxes into which we feel we must squeeze ourselves, but rather tools with which to communicate and to begin conversations,” Robyn Ochs, bisexual activist and editor of “Getting Bi: Voices of Bisexuals Around the World and Recognize,” said on her website.

    If you feel safe and comfortable confiding in someone close to you, opening up about these feelings might alleviate some pressure. Your sexuality is also yours to share on your own terms — when and with whoever you want to.

    Overall, whatever feels comfortable, makes you feel good about yourself and gives you a sense of community is what is right. You’re always allowed to change and reevaluate your needs and desires if you feel your identity doesn’t suit you anymore.

    Complete Article HERE!

    The Case for Being Upfront About Your Sexuality On the First Date

    If you don’t exclusively date one gender, it can be tricky to know when it’s time to come out to a new potential partner. Here, tips for doing it, and why you might want to sooner rather than later.

    By Gabrielle Kassel

    It was the end of the first date. So far, things had been going well. We’d touched on dating histories, confirmed our compatible relationship orientations (both monogamous), discussed our individual vices, bonded over a shared love of yoga and CrossFit, and giddily shared photos of our furbabies. I was definitely connecting with this man — we’ll call him Derek — but there was still one major thing we hadn’t yet talked about: My bisexuality.

    My previous partner had pretended that my dating resume didn’t feature folks of various genders, and our silence about it contributed to me not feeling queer enough. I wanted to avoid that dynamic again, so on date number one with Derek, I said it plainly.

    “It’s really important to me that you understand that I am bisexual and that I will still be bisexual if we date.”

    Like the rockstar he is, Derek responded, “Of course, being with me isn’t going to change your sexual orientation.” He and I went on to date for nearly a year. While we’ve since broken up (due to mismatched long-term goals), I strongly believe that sharing my sexuality with him from the beginning is part of why I felt so loved and seen when we were dating.

    Because of that, I’ve since made it a rule to come out as bisexual on the first date (and sometimes, even earlier). And guess what? Experts agree. Both psychotherapist and marriage and relationship expert Rachel Wright, M.A., L.M.F.T. and licensed professional counselor Maggie McCleary, L.G.P.C., who specializes in queer-inclusive services, say that coming out to a potential partner sooner rather than later is a good move — so long as you feel safe doing so.

    Read on to learn the benefits of coming out to a new potential partner ASAP. Plus, tips for how to handle it, whether you’re bisexual, pansexual, asexual, or any other part of the queer rainbow.

    The Benefit of Coming Out On a First Date

    “Sharing your sexuality allows your potential partner to get the fullest picture of you as early as possible,” says McCleary. “And for a relationship to be healthy, you want to be able to be your full self,” they say.

    Coming out also allows you to see if the person will be accepting of your sexuality. If you come out to your date and they don’t respond well or you get a sense that they won’t, “that’s a sign that they aren’t someone who isn’t going to accept all of you,” says McCleary. And in an ideal, healthy relationship you want (and need!) that acceptance.

    Note: “If they don’t respond well and that’s not a deal-breaker for you, then there might be other things you need assess internally,” considering that signals you’re willingly entering into a potentially unhealthy relationship, says McCleary. (For that, a queer-inclusive mental health professional may be helpful. You can find one on Psychology Today.)

    Coming out right away also saves you from the anxiety of *not* being out to somebody you’re going to continue dating. “The longer you avoid sharing your sexuality with them, the more anxious you can become about how they’re going to respond,” explains McCleary.

    Considering anxiety is often accompanied by emotional symptoms such as feelings of sadness, panic, or fear, and even physical symptoms, that’s — understatement alert — no good. (See More: What Anxiety Disorder Is—And What It Isn’t ?)

    What If I Don’t Feel Safe Coming Out — Or They Respond Poorly?

    First things first, remember that you never need to come out! “You never owe coming out to anyone — and you especially don’t owe it to someone you’re on a first date with,” says Wright.

    So if you don’t want to tell them, don’t. Or if your gut is telling you this person *isn’t* accepting, don’t. In fact, in the latter case, McCleary says you absolutely have permission to leave the date right smack dab in the middle.

    You might say:

    • “What you just said is a dealbreaker for me, so I’m going to respectfully remove myself from this situation.”
    • “It’s a rule for me not to date transphobes and what you just said is transphobic, so I’m going to call off the rest of this date.”
    • “That comment doesn’t sit well in my gut, so I’m going to excuse myself.”

    Can you stick the date out until the end and then send a similarly-worded text when you get home? Sure. “Your safety has to be your number one priority, but there’s no wrong way to prioritize your safety, so long as you do,” says Wright.

    What If They’re Accepting…But Don’t Know Much About Being LGBTQ+?

    If the person you’re on a date with isn’t familiar with what it means to be LGBTQ+, whether you continue to date them is really personal decision. It ultimately it comes down to two main things.

    First, how much emotional labor do you want to put into educating this person about your identities? If, for example, you’re you’re still exploring your own bisexuality, learning about bisexuality with your new boo could be a fun bonding activity. But, if you’ve been a bisexual activist for decades or teach about LGBTQ+ history for work, you may have less interest in taking on an educational role in your relationship.

    Second, how important is it to you that the people you’re dating be both accepting of and knowledgeable about your queerness? “If you’re incredibly involved in your local LGBTQ community, it may be much more important to you to date someone who understands bisexuality than someone who’s bisexuality hasn’t played as big a role in their social circles or life,” says Wright.

    How to Come Out On the First Date (or Even Before That)

    These tips prove that coming out doesn’t have to be as daunting as it sounds.

    1. Put it in your dating profiles.

    With social distancing orders still in place, the opportunities to meet folks at the bar or gym have dwindled. So if you’re meeting new potential lovers, odds are high it’s happening on apps. In that case, McCleary recommends putting your sexuality right in your profile.

    These days, most dating apps (Tinder, Feeld, OKCupid, etc.) make it easy, allowing you to choose from a wide variety of gender and sexuality markers that’ll appear right in your profile. Tinder, for instance, allows daters to select up to three terms that best describe their sexual orientation, including straight, gay, lesbian, bisexual, asexual, demisexual, pansexual, queer, and questioning.

    “You can also signal more subtly with the rainbow 🌈, rainbow flag emojis 🏳️‍🌈, or hearts the color of the bisexual pride flag 💗💜💙,” says McCleary.

    If you’re currently exploring your sexuality and haven’t yet settled on a label (or many), you can write as much in your profile, notes Wright. For example:

    • “Exploring my sexuality and looking for friends and lovers who want to come along on the journey.”
    • “Recently came out as not straight and here to explore what that means to me.”
    • “Homophobes, misogynists, racists, and biphobes please do this fluid babe a favor and swipe left.”

    “Displaying your sexuality right from the get-go will alleviate any of the pressure or anxiety you have around needing to come out on the first date,” says McCleary. If they swipe right, they already know your sexuality because it was right there in your profile. Plus, it acts as some kind of asshole filter, keeping you from matching with folks who won’t accept you.

    2. Share your socials.

    Are you out on social media — meaning you frequently talk about your sexuality when you post on social? If so, Wright recommends sharing your social media handles ahead of meeting up in person. (You can also consider doing a quick video chat first date to judge this and your general chemistry as well.)

    “Obviously, an online persona is only a small portion of who I am as a person, but I’m active on Instagram so sharing my handle is a great way for someone to learn that I’m bisexual, queer and polyamorous… while also getting a feel of my overall energy,” explains Wright.

    3. Slip it in casually.

    Did your recent match ask you if you’ve seen any good movies recently? Did they ask you what you’re reading? Answer them honestly, but nod to your sexuality while you do so.

    For example: “I’m queer, so I’m a big fan of queer documentaries and I just watched Disclosure,” or, “since I came out as bisexual, I’ve been reading bi memoirs nonstop. I just finished Tomboyland by Melissa Faliveno.”

    The benefit of this approach is that it keeps your sexuality from feeling like this big confession, says McCleary. “It shifts the ‘coming out’ process from something serious to a passing topic,” the same way you’d discuss another part of your identity, such as where you grew up.

    4. Spit it out!

    Don’t let your desire to be smooth keep you from dishing your truth. “Honestly, someone who’s actually worth dating isn’t going to care how you tell them that you’re bi or queer,” says Wright.

    These examples prove that clunky can be just as effective as smooth:

    • “I don’t know how to bring this up but I just wanted to let you know that I’m bi.”
    • “This is totally unrelated to what we’re talking about but I liked to tell the people I’m going on dates with that I’m bi. So, here I am telling you!.”
    • “This date was great! But before we make future plans, I just want to let you know that I’m bisexual.”

    5. Ask a leading question.

    “If you can get a general gauge on this person’s views or politics, you’ll probably get a good sense of whether or not they’ll be accepting of the marginalized (sexual or gender) identities that you claim,” says McCleary.

    You might ask, for example: “Which BLM marches or events have you attended this month?” or “What did you think of the latest presidential debate?” or “Where do you get your morning news?”

    From all this info, you can slowly piece together whether the person you’re chatting with is waving red flags or rainbow flags — and decide for yourself whether you want to keep them around.

    Complete Article HERE!

    “How lockdown helped me discover my sexuality”

    For some, lockdown provided an important space to reflect on their sexuality and gender identity.

    By El Hunt

    What did you learn about yourself during lockdown? Besides discovering that I have a worryingly forensic knowledge of Sex and the City’s finest plot details and a surprising talent for line-dancing, I also twigged how much I was on guard in pre-COVID times. The truth is LGBTQ+ people have been staying alert long before it became a lurid yellow and green slogan, and when life began slowly inching back towards something that more closely resembles normality, I realised how exhausting it is.

    Skipping the streets of Soho recently, visibly queer once again due to my quite staggering levels of pandemic-date-PDA, the homophobic comments, wolf-whistles and leery requests I unfondly remember from before the lockdown were back in full force. Before the pandemic, I was practically a professional when it came to shooting icy looks at men who swaggered up in the middle of dates to ask if they could “join in” or shoving my hand safely into my pocket after catching a stranger glaring at me holding hands with a woman – these daily interruptions were so routine that it was practically muscle memory. Now, it feels more jarring, because for a few blissful months I’d mostly forgotten that homophobia even existed.

    I’m lucky enough to share a flat with a fellow queer, and so my lockdown was completely free of the anxiety that comes with encountering rogue bigots in everyday life. Having that extra space surprised me. I thought I’d just knock together a few sourdough loaves, and puff my way through Couch to 5k with the help of Sophie Ellis Bextor’s greatest hits. Instead it ended up becoming an important place to experiment with how I wanted to express myself.

    I’ve always preferred dressing like a especially garish character from Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater 2 and shopping in the men’s section. But in the past, I’ve deliberately toned it down honestly, to avoid drawing attention to myself. But during lockdown, I sort of stopped caring about what other people think. This was no doubt helped along by months without the pressure of being looked at by strangers. Plus, it’s given me more time to think more about what I actually want from relationships when this pandemic finally ends.

    I’m not alone in going through this period of reflection and experimentation, either. For many queer people, it seems lockdown and the pandemic has given them to space and time to think about their identities.

    “It gave me a chance to think about queer means for my gender identity”

    says Alex*,32, from East London

    For years, Alex has worked in diversity and inclusion for LGBTQ+ organisations and has long been vocal about standing up for other people and their experiences. Growing up in Yorkshire, “I always knew that I was attracted to everyone,” they say. None of the labels that people applied to Alex early on felt right and bi and lesbian didn’t fit. Then they heard the word queer, and thought, “that works for me.” Up until recently Alex had only considered queerness in terms of how it related to sexuality. “I never had a chance to think about what the word queer means for my gender identity,” they say. A couple of weeks ago they began using she/they pronouns.

    “It was life without any kind of binary 9-to-5… or binary anything”

    Alex has been living with their girlfriend during lockdown, “and that’s been a really supportive and safe space to have conversations and explore,” they say. “One day I put on my girlfriend’s dress and wandered around the house in that and it felt quite good actually! It’s only through being in the house that I’ve been able to not worry so much about it anymore. Besides, everyone’s queuing for Sainsbury’s in their slippers. Nobody’s going be looking at me in a dress.”

    Alex reckons that stepping away the bustle of everyday London life – with its sardine-like commutes and endless pub trips – presented a rare opportunity. “It was life without any kind of binary 9-to-5, or binary anything,” they say. “It’s given me a chance to think about life without binary sexual orientation, or a binary gender. You can just be everything, anything or nothing and that’s OK.”

    As the strictest restrictions have lifted, Alex has found it jarring experiencing homophobia for the first time in months. Recently a stranger shouted abuse when they were out on a walk with their girlfriend. “My brain has been able to rest from it. I wasn’t on high alert wondering whether we can walk down this street together. It feels a bit like I’ve taken back the time I’ve spent in the past being anxious and feeling edgy. I’ve used that energy to think more about myself.”

    I’ve finally realised who I am”

    says Steffe, 34, from Huddersfield

    For Steffe, a mum of three who lives in Huddersfield, lockdown has been a difficult journey. Before the pandemic hit, she worked as a nurse in the NHS, but was signed off from work just before the lockdown. Five months ago, her nine-year relationship with the father of her two youngest came to an end. They had been struggling to make things work, and in February they reached breaking point. Steffe proposed on a trip to London, and her ex said no. “I always thought marriage was what I wanted,” she says. “ I tried to put a plaster on my relationship.”

    The upheaval led Steffe to reflect on what she actually wanted. “I’d been with a few girls before I got with my ex. I’d always wanted a threesome, but actually I think it was more about me wanting to be with a girl. Now I’ve started to think about what’s actually important, and what my core values are. And loving who you love – that’s a massive core value.”

    “It has been a really hard time, with a lot of transitions.”

    In lockdown, Steffe found space to experiment. She shaved her hair, and has been trying out different colours. Cut off from LGBTQ+ venues, lesbian accounts on TikTok became an important outlet where she could be herself. “I’ve not got any LGBTQ+ friends,” she says. “So I’m finding it really difficult in the pandemic. I want to have some fun but I’m stuck in straightville. It’s no fun there!”

    When Pride came around in June, Steffe decided to come out on social media “I posted that I was bisexual, but to be honest I don’t know what I am at the moment,” she explains. I’m still on that journey. I don’t want to put a label on it.”

    She doesn’t view her time in lockdown with rose-tinted glasses. “People say we’re all in the same boat, but really, we’re all in the same storm, in different boats. Some of the boats have a hole in,” she points out. “It has been a really hard time, with a lot of transitions. I had to really figure myself out. But I’ve had time to think, and I’ve finally realised who I am. I know that I can shape my own future now.”

    To feel safe in a space that isn’t your home is worth its weight in gold”

    says Bec, 30, from Doncaster

    At the beginning of this year, student Bec was just beginning to think more about their gender identity. Before the pandemic effectively bolted the doors of every club in the country shut, they would go to south London LGBTQ+ venue The Chateau almost every weekend. “Being in that space gave me a lot of confidence,” Bec says, “because I was around a lot of people I could see were like me. Not having that during lockdown has been really hard. To feel safe in a space that isn’t your home, that really is worth its weight in gold.”

    Earlier this year, Bec lived with their sister and a queer friend in a flatshare in south London. At home and out at LGBTQ+ venues they felt safe, but also felt slightly wary towards other public spaces. “For ages I felt very uncomfortable in the clothes that I owned,” they explain, “but I didn’t know how to swan back into uni wearing something totally different. I think I was worried about feeling noticeable to people.” The extra space afforded by lockdown changed things, Bec says. “I’ve had a shield to be myself, for nobody else but me.” The earlier restrictions around meeting up also “opened up pockets of space,” to speak to friends one-on-one about their non-binary identity and using they/them pronouns.

    Around a month ago, Bec ended up moving in with their parents in Doncaster – a financial choice because of the impact of the pandemic. “In an ideal world, I wouldn’t have chosen this,” they say. “My mum is White British, and my dad is Congolese. Culturally for my dad, gender isn’t spoken about that much within his immediate family. There’s a religious aspect with both of my parents as they’re Christians. And so there was an added layer of nervousness coming home.”

    The first couple of weeks were uncomfortable. Their parents were inadvertently using the wrong pronouns, and Bec wasn’t sure how to broach the subject. Then their dad brought it up over dinner and noticed that they were “dressing very differently.”

    “Once it did come up, he responded quite well,” Bec says. “He’s really trying and putting in some work. When he comes downstairs he usually says, ‘Hi girls’. The other morning he said, ‘Hi humans’ instead. We all had a laugh about that.”

    Months on from the initial lockdown, our lives remain drastically different – and it’s taxing for many LGBTQ+ people being isolated from their community. Virtually every queer venue in the country remains closed, and any return to normality feels a long way away. But for some of us, perhaps this unexpected time away from the daily grind has also shown how restrictive “normal” life really was sometimes. Forget about the new normal – when all of this eventually blows over, I’m planning on focusing more on the new me.

    Complete Article HERE!

    How to Be Supportive When a Friend Comes Out to You

    Don’t try to set them up with the only other queer person you know, who they have absolutely nothing in common with.

    by Rachel Miller

    At the end of a Pride month in which a lot of people are newly thinking about how to be a good ally, it’s a great occasion to think about how to be an ally to the queer folks in your life year-round—starting with the moment they tell you they are queer.

    First, it’s important to know that there’s no singular “coming out” with regard to sexuality—it’s something that those of us who choose to come out have to do over and over again. As Tom Vellner wrote in a BuzzFeed essay, “It isn’t a one-step process. I don’t have to sit down at my kitchen table with every new person I meet, like I did with my parents—knees weak, palms sweaty, mom’s spaghetti (wait…)—and explain to them that, yes, I’m queer and, no, it won’t change anything between us. But as long as I exist in a heteronormative world, where the presumption is that I must have a girlfriend because I’m a man, I’ll never stop coming out. It happens whenever I meet a new coworker, whenever I see a new doctor, whenever I talk to a friend of a friend at a party.”

    Because coming out happens in so many small, often mundane ways, there’s no single response that’ll work for every situation. Tearfully replying, “I just want you to know how much I love you!!!” isn’t going to be appropriate if you’re, say, working the cash register at Bath & Body Works and a customer mentions the candle she’s buying is for her wife. And a peppy “Cool, got it!” probably isn’t the move when your best friend since childhood sits you down to tell you they are queer. Ultimately, you should try to mirror and respond to the specific individual’s emotional intensity, and to let your established relationship guide you.

    When it comes to the more emotional, capital-C–capital-O Coming Out situations, aim to affirm and honor your friend.

    Here are some tips to consider:

    • Recognize the importance of this moment, and how vulnerable they are being with you by saying something like, “Thank you so much for trusting me with this” or “I feel honored that you chose to share this with me.”
    • Say “I think this is really great!” or something else really affirming that communicates that what they are telling you is fundamentally good. And remember to smile.
    • If you’re close, it’s OK to ask gentle, non-probing questions—e.g., “I have to admit that I actually don’t know what pansexual means; I can look it up, of course, but I’d love to know what it means to you, if you’re up for sharing.” (Just avoid nosy questions about their body and/or sex.)
    • Maybe say, “Is there anything you’d like to do to celebrate?” Recognizing this milestone—whether that’s via drinks, going shopping for a new outfit, getting a tattoo or piercing or haircut, or having a party—lets them know that you are aware of what a big moment this is, and is a way to honor what they’ve just shared.
    • It’s really important to let people share their stories on their own terms, and to not accidentally out a friend, even if it’s an attempt to normalize what they’ve told you. On the other hand, they might actually prefer if you share the information with other people in your circle so they don’t have to have really intense coming out conversations with everyone they’ve ever met. The best way to know what they want is to have a conversation about it. So if they haven’t told you how public this information is, you could say something like, “Just to make sure we’re on the same page, can I ask you if other folks in your life know?”
    • If you’re not sure what to do next, go with “How can I best support you right now?” It’s really OK to not know exactly what to do or say for a friend, and to simply ask them what they need from you in this moment.

    In any coming out conversation—whether it’s intense or fairly casual—what you don’t say is just as important as what you do say.

    Here are some things to avoid:

    • “I’m not surprised” or “I always knew.” It’s not about you right now!!! Also, it doesn’t feel good to know that other people knew something about you that you didn’t know about yourself, or to learn that the thing you were working so hard to hide was actually obvious to everyone around you. (If the person asks if you knew, you can say something honest but gentle like, “I thought that could maybe be the case, but I wasn’t really sure!”)
    • “It’s no big deal!” This kind of response is often well-meaning, but can trivialize a person’s lived experience, or gloss over the fact that they just shared something that is a big deal to them. (In the newest installment of ¡Hola Papi!, JP Brammer gave advice to a reader who was hurt by their loved ones’ neutral reaction to coming out; it’s a good reminder that your friend might be expecting a little more fanfare, or at least something beyond just tolerance.)
    • “I love you anyway!” Again, well-intentioned, but it inadvertently communicates that you are doing them a favor, and care about them despite their sexuality.
    • “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!!!” Trust that they had their reasons for telling you when they did. And, again, this isn’t about you.

    Be sure to keep showing up for them after that initial conversation, too.

    Talking to you is likely just one step in a bigger process; here are some things to keep in mind going forward:

    • Follow their lead. If they call themselves a lesbian, use the term lesbian; if they say gay, go with gay. (And don’t whisper it like it’s something shameful; say it.) If they refer to the person they are dating as their partner instead of their boyfriend, say partner instead of boyfriend. (And don’t call their partner “your buddy” or “your roommate.”)
    • Support their efforts to make more queer friends. Yes, that might mean sometimes you won’t be invited to join a group activity, but try not to take it personally—it’s really, really not.
    • If you’ve said or done anti-LGBTQ things in front of your friend in the past, seriously consider apologizing. Don’t make your guilt a Huge Thing for them to manage—they shouldn’t end up comforting you here—or pressure them to accept your apology, but it’s worth owning up to your shortcomings as a friend in this moment. You might say something like, “I also wanted to say I’m sorry for the comments I made about [_So-and-So bringing a same-sex date to prom/gay marriage/homosexuality being a sin_]. I’m sure that really hurt for you to hear, and made you feel less safe around me. I know it was wrong of me, and I’m so sorry.” If you said things or held beliefs that were particularly harmful, you might also say, “Here’s what I’m doing to educate myself on this topic, so I can be a better [_f__riend/sibling/ally_] going forward.”
    • Continue to be supportive and affirming. A friend of mine just sent her newly-out niece a Pride care package, which I thought was really thoughtful and cute. This could also look like trying to get to know the person they are dating, or joining your school’s PFLAG group… or simply not pretending this conversation never happened (which happens more than you might think).
    • Look out for them. Systemic, pervasive oppression means that LGBTQ people are at higher risk of mental health conditions, suicidality, intimate partner violence, and police violence. Just because you accept your friend doesn’t mean that their family or employer or the world at large does, so keep an eye out for signs that they aren’t doing well.
    • Avoid referring to them as your “gay best friend.” You can just say “best friend.” And know that having a queer friend doesn’t give you license to start making jokes about LGBTQ people, or about your friend.
    • Don’t try to set them up with the only other queer person you know, who they have absolutely nothing in common with.
    • Remember to see your friend’s whole self. Being queer is one facet of a person’s identity, but it’s not their entire personality.

    Complete Article HERE!