We Need to Talk About the Lack of LGBTQ+ Representation in Sex Ed

By Delilah Gray

When I was in high school, none of my teachers ever mentioned LGBTQ+ safe sex and relationships, especially not in my sexual-education classes, which were meant to be the one place I could learn about these things. And as a member of the LGBTQ+ community, that deeply bothered me. In a 2013 National School Climate Survey, fewer than five percent of students reported seeing any LGBTQ+ topics discussed or represented in health classes. And in a 2015 survey conducted among millennials, only 12 percent said their sex-education classes covered same-sex relationships. Because sex education in the US is primarily based on heterosexual, cisgender couples, the main focuses include birth-control measures and abstinence. In order for LGBTQ+ youth to experience the same health benefits compared to their peers, sex education needs to be more inclusive.

Sex education in general has always had issues being nationally mandated. According to the Guttmacher Institute — a leading research and policy organization committed to advancing sexual and reproductive health and rights in the US and globally — 13 states do not require any lessons on sexuality, contraception, or STIs. While this is a very discouraging statistic, some states are making more of an effort to make sex education a priority. According to the CDC (Centers for Disease Control and Prevention), about 15 states and the District of Columbia reported offering supplementary materials that discussed pregnancy prevention relevant to LGBTQ+ students. This is nowhere near as inclusive as it should be, but it’s a start.

There are a lot of ways schools can teach sex education, but there’s only one way to make it inclusive so all students feel seen, heard, understood, and properly informed. GLSEN — an American education organization that works to end discrimination, harassment, and bullying based on sexual orientation, gender identity, and gender expression — calls it the “Truly LGBTQIA+-Inclusive Approach,” which infuses LGBTQ+ concerns into existing programs. Some topics could include gender identity, transgender concerns, sexual orientation, and the pleasurable aspects of sex. Most schools teach unhealthy notions of sex and identity, especially for LGBTQ+ youth, but with a more inclusive approach, not only will so many valuable lessons be taught, but dangerous notions will also be avoided. By being more inclusive, the program can help youth:

  • Better understand gender identity and sexual orientation with medically accurate information.
  • Incorporate positive examples of LGBTQ+ individuals, romantic relationships, and families.
  • Discuss the need for protection during sex for people of all identities.
  • Disprove common myths and stereotypes about different identities.
  • Teach how to be a proper ally to the community.

There are tons of great resources that teachers can use in their classes to make sexual education more inclusive:

In order to ensure sex education becomes more inclusive, having parental support is vital. A 2014 study conducted by Planned Parenthood showed that nearly 80 percent of parents supported discussing sexual orientation in both high school and middle school. Both students and parents are on board with the addition, so why hasn’t any progress been made? The topic is still legally barred in some states, while it’s straight-up ignored in others. According to Planned Parenthood, only nine states currently require teachers to discuss LGBTQ+ identities and relationships in an inclusive and affirming way, while seven Southern states either prohibit teachers from discussing LGBTQ+ identities and relationships at all or require them to frame LGBTQ+ identities and relationships in a negative way.

When young people don’t feel like they can talk to someone they trust about sexual health or don’t feel like they’re getting the answers at school, many seek information online or from their peers, which is usually neither age-appropriate nor accurate. This leaves them misinformed, confused, and not equipped with the proper knowledge to protect themselves.

For me, it wasn’t until I was in college that I could really explore and learn about my sexual orientation and identity, and by that time, I felt so behind. I wish I’d had a comprehensive sex education when I was in middle school and high school, rather than just hearing about condoms for the millionth time. By creating inclusive sex-education programs across the country, it will help ensure schools can be a safe space for LGBTQ+ people, which is more vital now than ever.

Complete Article HERE!

What does bicurious mean?

“Experimenting with your identity is not a negative, but the toxic tropes around doing so can be.”

By Gina Tonic

Sexuality exists on a spectrum and if one end holds people who consider themselves to be 100 per cent gay or lesbian, towards the opposite end you’ll find a space for those who identify as bicurious. But, many of us don’t really know what bicurious means, and how it differs from heteroflexible or bisexual. It’s also said to contribute to bisexual erasure. So here’s what you need to know about bicuriosity.

What does bicurious mean?

Put simply (although the topic is actually quite nuanced and complex), bicuriosity refers to those who are interested in exploring their sexual identity with people of the same and other genders. Elyssa Rider, a sexual education and wellbeing specialist from Brook explains, “Bicurious is a term that means that someone is questioning their sexuality and where they fall on the spectrum. I think there can be a tendency for people to use this term when they have formerly identified at heterosexual but think they might be interested romantically or sexually in their own gender.”

Rider adds, “I also understand that some people identify with the term when they feel desire, but perhaps have not physically explored that yet.” The confusion over what bicurious can mean could easily be contributed to the lack of representation given to this sexuality. That said, one of the best scenes in Scott Pilgrim vs The World – a movie that has many incredible scenes – gives us a great insight into why the term is sometimes considered controversial in the queer community.

The scene plays out in the second half of the movie and focuses on Pilgrim’s realisation that he has been assuming all of Ramona Flowers’ “evil exes” are men. When forced to fight Roxie Richter, Flowers’ ex-girlfriend from college, it becomes clear that Flowers has been repeatedly and purposefully reinforcing that she has “seven evil exes” and not “seven evil ex boyfriends” for a reason. Still, Flowers flippantly dismisses the relationship as a “bicurious phase” and Richter – ready to attack – declares herself “bifurious”.

Why do some people dislike the term?

This scene is impeccable not only for getting every bisexual I know to put “bifurious” in their Tinder bio, but on a deeper level, representing the rage of many queer women who have been treated as a “phase” in an (otherwise straight) woman’s life rather than a valid relationship or viable long-term sexual partner. Cory Bush, a sex positive doula and queer sex educator, explains that this sentiment between queer and bicurious people is still a common one.

“Experimenting with your identity is not a negative, but the toxic tropes around doing so can be”

“A lot of queer people have been through the experience of being a bicurious person’s ‘experiment’ to help them explore their sexuality. There is nothing wrong with sexual exploration in itself, but when you are exploring your sexuality, it’s important to keep in mind that you’re navigating these feelings with real live people who have their own thoughts, feelings, desires, and boundaries.” Bush explains, “I don’t think the negative effect comes from bicuriosity itself, but rather when bicurious people forget to acknowledge and honour the humanity of the people who they are exploring with.”

This stigma that sees bicurious people as “using” other people to satisfy their questions surrounding sexuality, however, is one that many feel is attributed to those who identify as queer too. Emily, a 25-year-old bisexual, says she has no problem with the label bicurious or those that use it, but that “it becomes problematic when it’s used as a way to dismiss a bisexual person’s experience as experimentation alone or a phase they will grow out of.”

Pansexual Megan agrees, telling me, “I had been out as queer for about six months and explained to a colleague who knew me from a ‘straight-passing’ relationship that I had a crush on our female co-worker, and he asked if [I was] bicurious.” They continue, “I feel like cis straight people use the term bicurious to basically invalidate queer people who have recently come out, to suggest that it’s a phase.”

As well as affecting those more recently opening up about their identity like Megan suggests, Rider adds that she believes women and femme-presenting folk are more likely to suffer from the unsavoury stigmas that the term bicurious adds to the bisexual identity. “People can be dismissive, or suggest that someone is exploring their sexuality for attention.” She describes, “This is a jibe particularly levelled at women, whose sexuality is often viewed through the male gaze.”

Libby, a 27-year-old bisexual, similarly feels that the term is “patriarchal” and dated. “Bicurious is a term that is used to diminish a woman’s sexuality, because men can’t understand that a woman can have feelings for other women, which has nothing to do with the male gaze.” She adds, “It’s not just men either, other women have projected their similar reductive opinions towards bisexuality onto me.”

It’s not just straight people who can be bicurious

While the assumption with bicuriosity is that those subscribing to this label are straight people wishing to test out their queer desires, this is not always the case. Tilda, a 20-year-old bicurious lesbian, finds the term helpful in explaining her point of view. “It’s been really important for me to primarily identify as a lesbian, yet utilise the bicurious label when I’m still figuring my sexuality out.” She considers, “It helps me retain my core identity as a dyke, which is so significant to who I am – but a dyke who occasionally wants to try men!”

“You can have any sexual identity and it’s valid whether you ever explore it or not”

Just as it is unhelpful to bisexual people to assume all bisexual people are the same as bicurious people, so too is it invalidating to infer that all those using the bicurious descriptor are straight individuals looking to experiment with queerness. As Tilda says, bicurious can be used as a label for anyone with a monosexual (those attracted to only one gender) identity looking to explore outside of the gender they are typically attracted to.

As Bush put it, the problem with bicuriosity isn’t the people who want to explore their sexuality – especially in a society where heteronormativity and compulsory heterosexuality is so dominant – but the stereotypes associated with wanting to do. Experimenting with your identity is not a negative, but the toxic tropes around doing so can be.

Rider adds, “you can have any sexual identity and it would be valid no matter whether you ever explored it romantically or sexually or not. It is also important to remember that it is okay if you explore your sexuality and change your mind about how you identify.” She finishes, “Sexuality is fluid, and it’s perfectly natural to change your opinion about something as you gain more knowledge and experience in other areas of your life, so why not this?”

Complete Article HERE!

5 Myths About Pansexuality That Need To Be Quashed

Pansexual Flag

By Ritika Joshi

Pansexuality is a sexual identity where a person is attracted towards people regardless of sex or gender identity. The prefix pan- is derived from Ancient Greek and means all, thus pansexuality means they are open to all, irrespective of sex or gender.  Famous celebrities like Miley Cyrus, Janelle Monáe, and Cara Delevingne have stated that they are pansexual, normalising pansexuality as a sexual identity. There has also been an increase in pansexual characters in mainstream media, which allows for people to explore their own sexual identity. Here is a list of common myths and misconceptions about pansexuality, and why they are incorrect.

1. Pansexuality Isn’t Real

Dismissing pansexuality by claiming it is a myth or doesn’t exist serves no purpose other than being discriminatory. By denying one’s sexual orientation or sexual identity, it prevents them from accepting themselves and their identity. Allowing people to identify however they see fit harms no one, and allows for people to be more comfortable with how they label themselves.

2. Pansexuality = Bisexuality

Since sexuality is a spectrum, there is no one rigid definition of bisexuality and pansexuality. Generally, bisexuality is the attraction to more than one gender while pansexuality is often described as attraction regardless of gender. Many pansexual people state that their attraction focuses on personality rather than gender.

“I always will remain, I think, pansexual. However one defines themselves, whether it’s ‘they’ or ‘he’ or ‘she,’ I fall in love with the person — and that’s that. I’m attracted to the person.” – Cara Delevingne

The definition of bisexuality and pansexuality may vary from person to person, and the fact that the definitions seem similar makes it hard to distinguish. People identify with whichever term they feel more comfortable with. The right move is to listen to whatever people identify as, and not try to diminish it. Since sexuality is nuanced and varies from person to person, it is important to understand bisexuality and pansexuality means something different for everybody.

3. Pansexual People Are Promiscuous

Being attracted to people regardless of gender does not automatically mean that pansexual people are interested in everyone. The assumption that pansexual people are more promiscuous is unfounded and based on misconceptions about sexuality. Pansexual people aren’t attracted to everyone, the same way heterosexual people aren’t attracted to everybody from the opposite gender.

4. Pansexual People Cannot Be Monogamous

Assuming that pansexual people cannot remain monogamous and faithful to their partner is a myth. The assumption that pansexual people are cheaters is an unfounded belief that stems from misconceptions about sexual identities and pansexuality. Just because someone has the capacity to be attracted to anyone irrespective of gender, doesn’t mean they are.

5. Pansexuality Is A Trend

Pansexuality has always existed, there just wasn’t a specific term for it until the 20th century. There is more visibility related to pansexuality, due to celebrities coming out as pansexual and an increase in media with pansexual representation. Due to this more people are looking into their own sexual orientation and identifying as pansexual. This increase in people labelling themselves as pansexual leads to the belief that pansexuality is ‘a trend’, instead of realising that it has always existed.

It is a good thing that people are finding more ways of labelling self-expression. The small price to pay for making people more comfortable is just learning and familiarising yourself with queer terminology.

Complete Article HERE!

Here’s a handy glossary of LGBTQ+ terms for allies to commit to memory

Because the words we use matter.

By Ali Pantony

Terminology and naming are essential to marginalised communities, and many have their own language to communicate who they are and the societal struggles they face.

For LGBTQ+ allies, committing these terms to memory is a crucial part of furthering our allyship and learning about the community.

It’s important to note that some terms carry derogatory connotations but have been reclaimed by the LGBTQ+ community over time, and shouldn’t be used about someone unless you’re fully aware that they identify with them. Additionally, because some of these terms are so personal, they carry slightly different meanings for different individuals.

Here’s Stonewall’s guide to LGBTQ+ terms and definitions. It isn’t exhaustive, rather, it’s a good starting point to further our education…

ACE

Ace is an umbrella term used to describe a variation in levels of romantic and/or sexual attraction, including a lack of attraction. Ace people may describe themselves using one or more of a wide variety of terms, including, but not limited to, asexual, aromantic, demis and grey-As.

ALLY

A (typically) straight and/or cis person who supports members of the LGBT community.

BI

Bi is an umbrella term used to describe a romantic and/or sexual orientation towards more than one gender. Bi people may describe themselves using one or more of a wide variety of terms, including, but not limited to, bisexual, pan, queer, and some other non-monosexual and non-monoromantic identities.

BIPHOBIA

The fear or dislike of someone who identifies as bi based on prejudice or negative attitudes, beliefs or views about bi people. Biphobic bullying may be targeted at people who are, or who are perceived to be, bi.

BUTCH

Butch is a term used in LBT culture to describe someone who expresses themselves in a typically masculine way. There are other identities within the scope of butch, such as ‘soft butch’ and ‘stone butch’. You shouldn’t use these terms about someone unless you know they identify with them.

CISGENDER OR CIS

Someone whose gender identity is the same as the sex they were assigned at birth. Non-trans is also used by some people.

COMING OUT

When a person first tells someone/others about their orientation and/or gender identity.

DEADNAMING

Calling someone by their birth name after they have changed their name. This term is often associated with trans people who have changed their name as part of their transition.

FEMME

Femme is a term used in LGBT culture to describe someone who expresses themselves in a typically feminine way.
There are other identities within the scope of femme, such as ‘low femme’, ‘high femme’, and ‘hard femme’. You shouldn’t use these terms about someone unless you know they identify with them.

GAY

Refers to a man who has a romantic and/or sexual orientation towards men. Also a generic term for lesbian and gay sexuality – some women define themselves as gay rather than lesbian. Some non-binary people may also identify with this term.

GENDER

Often expressed in terms of masculinity and femininity, gender is largely culturally determined and is assumed from the sex assigned at birth.

GENDER DYSPHORIA

Used to describe when a person experiences discomfort or distress because there is a mismatch between their sex assigned at birth and their gender identity.
This is also the clinical diagnosis for someone who doesn’t feel comfortable with the sex they were assigned at birth.

GENDER EXPRESSION

How a person chooses to outwardly express their gender, within the context of societal expectations of gender. A person who does not conform to societal expectations of gender may not, however, identify as trans.

GENDER IDENTITY

A person’s innate sense of their own gender, whether male, female or something else (see non-binary below), which may or may not correspond to the sex assigned at birth.

GENDER REASSIGNMENT

Another way of describing a person’s transition. To undergo gender reassignment usually means to undergo some sort of medical intervention, but it can also mean changing names, pronouns, dressing differently and living in their self-identified gender.

Gender reassignment is a characteristic that is protected by the Equality Act 2010, and it is further interpreted in the Equality Act 2010 approved code of practice. It is a term of much contention and is one that Stonewall’s Trans Advisory Group feels should be reviewed.

GENDER RECOGNITION CERTIFICATE (GRC)

This enables trans people to be legally recognised in their affirmed gender and to be issued with a new birth certificate. Not all trans people will apply for a GRC and you currently have to be over 18 to apply. You do not need a GRC to change your gender markers at work or to legally change your gender on other documents such as your passport.

GILLICK COMPETENCE

A term used in medical law to decide whether a child (under 16 years of age) is able to consent to their own medical treatment, without the need for parental permission or knowledge.

HETEROSEXUAL / STRAIGHT

Refers to a man who has a romantic and/or sexual orientation towards women or to a woman who has a romantic and/or sexual orientation towards men.

HOMOSEXUAL

This might be considered a more medical term used to describe someone who has a romantic and/or sexual orientation towards someone of the same gender. The term ‘gay’ is now more generally used.

HOMOPHOBIA

The fear or dislike of someone, based on prejudice or negative attitudes, beliefs or views about lesbian, gay or bi people. Homophobic bullying may be targeted at people who are, or who are perceived to be, lesbian, gay or bi.

INTERSEX

A term used to describe a person who may have the biological attributes of both sexes or whose biological attributes do not fit with societal assumptions about what constitutes male or female. Intersex people may identify as male, female or non-binary.

Stonewall works with intersex groups to provide its partners and stakeholders information and evidence about areas of disadvantage experienced by intersex people but does not, after discussions with members of the intersex community, include intersex issues as part of its current remit at this stage.

LESBIAN

Refers to a woman who has a romantic and/or sexual orientation towards women. Some non-binary people may also identify with this term.

LESBOPHOBIA

The fear or dislike of someone because they are or are perceived to be a lesbian.

LGBT

The acronym for lesbian, gay, bi and trans.

NEURODIVERSE

A concept where neurological differences are recognised and respected in the same way as any other human difference.

NON-BINARY

An umbrella term for people whose gender identity doesn’t sit comfortably with ‘man’ or ‘woman’. Non-binary identities are varied and can include people who identify with some aspects of binary identities, while others reject them entirely.

ORIENTATION

Orientation is an umbrella term describing a person’s attraction to other people. This attraction may be sexual (sexual orientation) and/or romantic (romantic orientation). These terms refers to a person’s sense of identity based on their attractions, or lack thereof. Orientations include, but are not limited to, lesbian, gay, bi, ace and straight.

OUTED

When a lesbian, gay, bi or trans person’s sexual orientation or gender identity is disclosed to someone else without their consent.

PERSON WITH A TRANS HISTORY

Someone who identifies as male or female or a man or woman, but was assigned the opposite sex at birth. This is increasingly used by people to acknowledge a trans past.

PAN

Refers to a person whose romantic and/or sexual attraction towards others is not limited by sex or gender.

PASSING

If someone is regarded, at a glance, to be a cisgender man or cisgender woman. Cisgender refers to someone whose gender identity matches the sex they were ‘assigned’ at birth. This might include physical gender cues (hair or clothing) and/or behaviour which is historically or culturally associated with a particular gender.

PRONOUN

Words we use to refer to people’s gender in conversation – for example, ‘he’ or ‘she’. Some people may prefer others to refer to them in gender neutral language and use pronouns such as they/their and ze/zir.

QUEER

Queer is a term used by those wanting to reject specific labels of romantic orientation, sexual orientation and/or gender identity. It can also be a way of rejecting the perceived norms of the LGBT community (racism, sizeism, ableism etc). Although some LGBT people view the word as a slur, it was reclaimed in the late 80s by the queer community who have embraced it.

QUESTIONING

The process of exploring your own sexual orientation and/or gender identity.

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION

A person’s romantic attraction to other people, or lack thereof. Along with sexual orientation, this forms a person’s orientation identity.

Stonewall uses the term ‘orientation’ as an umbrella term covering sexual and romantic orientations.

SEX

Assigned to a person on the basis of primary sex characteristics (genitalia) and reproductive functions. Sometimes the terms ‘sex’ and ‘gender’ are interchanged to mean ‘male’ or ‘female’

SEXUAL ORIENTATION

A person’s sexual attraction to other people, or lack thereof. Along with romantic orientation, this forms a person’s orientation identity.

Stonewall uses the term ‘orientation’ as an umbrella term covering sexual and romantic orientations.

TRANS

An umbrella term to describe people whose gender is not the same as, or does not sit comfortably with, the sex they were assigned at birth. Trans people may describe themselves using one or more of a wide variety of terms, including (but not limited to) transgender, transsexual, gender-queer (GQ), gender-fluid, non-binary, gender-variant, crossdresser, genderless, agender, nongender, third gender, bi-gender, trans man, trans woman,trans masculine, trans feminine and neutrois.

TRANSGENDER MAN

A term used to describe someone who is assigned female at birth but identifies and lives as a man. This may be shortened to trans man, or FTM, an abbreviation for female-to-male.

TRANSGENDER WOMAN

A term used to describe someone who is assigned male at birth but identifies and lives as a woman. This may be shortened to trans woman, or MTF, an abbreviation for male-to-female.

​TRANSITIONING

The steps a trans person may take to live in the gender with which they identify. Each person’s transition will involve different things. For some this involves medical intervention, such as hormone therapy and surgeries, but not all trans people want or are able to have this.

Transitioning also might involve things such as telling friends and family, dressing differently and changing official documents.

TRANSPHOBIA

The fear or dislike of someone based on the fact they are trans, including denying their gender identity or refusing to accept it. Transphobia may be targeted at people who are, or who are perceived to be, trans.

TRANSSEXUAL

This was used in the past as a more medical term (similarly to homosexual) to refer to someone whose gender is not the same as, or does not sit comfortably with, the sex they were assigned at birth. This term is still used by some although many people prefer the term trans or transgender.

UNDETECTABLE

HIV medication (antiretroviral treatment, or ART) works by reducing the amount of the virus in the blood to undetectable levels. This means the levels of HIV are so low that the virus cannot be passed on. This is called having an undetectable viral load or being undetectable. For more information, visit the Terrence Higgins Trust.

Complete Article HERE!

What Does Bi-Curious Mean, and How Is It Different From Bisexuality?

These two terms mean very different things.

By Jessica Migala

Bisexuality is a sexual identity most people are at least a little familiar with. But what about the term bi-curious—is this a separate identity as well, or is it part of being bisexual? How do you know if you’re bi-curious, anyway? Because the word can be confusing, we asked experts to weigh in and clear up some questions and misconceptions.

What is bi-curious?

Let’s say you identify as a heterosexual woman, but you find yourself fantasizing about pursuing a sexual encounter with another woman. Maybe she’s someone you know, someone you’ve met very briefly, or even someone you saw while watching porn. Either way, the term bi-curious would likely apply to you—whether you have a sexual encounter with that person or not.

Bi-curious generally means that a person wants to explore sexual activity with a person of a gender identity different than the gender they are usually attracted to, Marla Renee Stewart, sexologist, owner of sexuality education company Velvet Lips, and faculty member at Clayton State University in Georgia, tells Health. For example, a heterosexual woman might desire a sexual relationship with another woman, or a woman who identifies as a lesbian might find herself interested in having sex with a man. It could be a specific person, or the attraction might be to a different gender as a whole.

This attraction might stay in your mind and never turn into a real encounter. Or it might make you want to see what they’re all about. “You might reflect on your childhood interactions and feelings and realize you didn’t get to explore a facet of yourself due to [factors like] social restrictions, religion, [and more],” Stewart says. Ultimately, this “might mean that you are more open-minded than you previously thought, and you might be ready to step into your authenticity,” she adds.

Does being bi-curious mean you’re gay?

It might. If you’re a heterosexual woman, maybe after some self-reflection and exploration you decide you have an identity as a lesbian. But you might also call yourself bisexual, heterosexual, or use another sexual identity that speaks more truly to who you are. That’s for you to decide.

What’s the difference between bi-curious and bisexual?

The Human Rights Campaign (HRC) defines bisexuality as “someone who can be attracted to more than one gender.” However, this LGBTQ+ advocacy group says that many adults also use the term bisexual in a broader way, to describe that they have the potential to be romantically or sexually attracted to more than one sex or gender. The latter definition allows for more flexibility and fluidity.

What should I do if I think I’m bi-curious?

If you’re bi-curious, you don’t have to rush to figure it out. “The term bi-curious really is designed to help people identify a burgeoning or existing curiosity without really committing to any kind of identity around their sexuality. That’s the distinction between being bi-curious and bisexual,” Kate Balestrieri, PsyD, licensed psychologist, certified sex therapist, PACT-couples therapist, and founder of the mental and sexual health practice Modern Intimacy, tells Health. “Bi-curious gives people permission to entertain their arousal and explore how it takes shape without making a commitment.”

If you realize you’re bi-curious, it can feel a little scary, acknowledges Balestrieri. “Your likes and arousal can change over time. People often feel like they have to come to some crystalized understanding of their sexuality and that’s the pattern they have for the rest of their life,” she says. But it’s hardly uncommon for people to realize they’re attracted to a different gender—and then decide if they want to pursue a sexual encounter or not.

When should I start exploring being bi-curious?

“You should only act if you have weighed the benefits and consequences and feel that you are ready to step into it,” advises Stewart. “Really evaluating your actions and not going into something blindly is the best thing that you could do for yourself.”

Those glimmers of attraction to more than one gender or people who are non-binary might represent something that will be more of a constant in your life, but you may or may not be ready to solidify your idea of your sexuality, explains Balestrieri. For more resources on navigating being bi-curious, Stewart recommends visiting bi.org.

A first step, however, might be to check out dating apps for people you might be interested in. If you feel shy or hesitant to point out your intention, it’s okay to say that you’re bi-curious, exploring, or just aren’t sure yet. What’s more, the pandemic is actually the perfect time to take things slow and get to know someone virtually, taking off the pressure to move forward before you’re really ready. You might also know that you’re ready now; there’s no timeline.

It’s also worth saying that you may be worried about other people’s opinions if bi-curious exploration becomes part of your sexual identity. “You get to define who you are attracted to and love, and no one else’s opinion needs to influence your sexuality. That’s easier said than done, though,” says Balestrieri. She suggests reaching out to others who are sex positive who will support you through this process of investigation. When you’re ready, take the steps forward in a pace that feels right. “Spend the time thinking about what’s emotionally, physically, and sexually safe for you,” she says.

Complete Article HERE!

What Does It Mean to Be Sexually Fluid?

by Crystal Raypole

At this point in time, experts have disproved many of the myths surrounding sexual orientation.

Like the color of your eyes or the shape of your nose, orientation is a trait many are born with or grow into over time.

Maybe in high school, for example, you developed crushes on people of one gender only. In college, you found yourself attracted to people of different genders.

Now, as an adult, you mostly date people of one gender but occasionally feel a flash of sexual attraction for people of other genders.

Does that mean you’re confused? Can’t make up your mind? That your college attractions were just a phase? No, no, and absolutely not.

No one can define your orientation for you, but the concept of sexual fluidity can help explain your experiences.

Sexual fluidity, in short, means your sexual orientation isn’t permanently fixed.

Yes, everyone has an underlying orientation — asexual, pansexual, or heterosexual, for example. Yet there’s room for it to expand a little, based on your experiences and current situation.

It can help to think of orientation as a spectrum that includes people of all genders. Sexually fluid people tend to experience attractions at different points along the spectrum as they go through life.

Maybe you grew up thinking you were only attracted to men, until you had a few flings with people of other genders. After a few years, you felt most attracted to men again, but you couldn’t say for certain whether that would always be the case.

These changes in how you experience romantic and sexual attraction are totally valid.

“Fluidity is an absolutely normal aspect of sexual orientation,” explains Will Zogg, a Washington therapist who specializes in gender affirming counseling.

“Attraction is far more complex than many people can communicate,” says Zogg. “And fluidity and the presentation of sexuality vary widely across cultures, age, access, and region.”

He goes on to say people sometimes interpret fluidity as confusion, or betrayal of an allegiance to a specific community.

“As a result of the stigma around fleeting same-sex attraction and consequences for that ‘betrayal,’ normal feelings of love and sex and curiosity often get swept under the rug, where the limits of Western societal norms keep them hidden,” explains Zogg.

If you’re sexually fluid, you might notice most of your sexual experiences and attractions fit under the label you use to identify yourself.

The key word here is “most,” since you’ll probably have a few outlier experiences that fall elsewhere on the spectrum.

Here’s an example:

You’ve only ever felt attracted to women. Then you develop a close relationship with a nonbinary friend. Your physical and emotional closeness eventually lead to a crush.

You think about kissing, touching, even having sex with them. Maybe you act on those desires, maybe you don’t. Eventually, you spend a little less time together, and your attraction fades, leaving you primarily attracted to women once again.

This one experience may not lead you to redefine your sexual orientation, but it does suggest some fluidity.

Close friendships sometimes fuel romantic feelings that lead to sexual desire, but attraction can exist without you acting on it.

Fluidity, by definition, changes over time, so you could develop a similar attraction in the future.

Though fluidity adds an extra factor in the equation of attraction, it won’t necessarily change your sexual behavior.

“What Westerners refer to as fluidity in sexuality (and in gender) is not a new idea for many cultures,” Zogg notes.

Researchers and anthropologists have explored fluidity across cultures and history. In terms of Western research, this concept has had many names, including erotic plasticityTrusted Source.

The term sexual fluidity comes from the research of psychologist and professor Dr. Lisa Diamond, who drew attention to the concept with her 2009 book, “Sexual Fluidity: Understanding Women’s Love and Desire.”

In theory, yes, anyone can experience this fluidity, but not everyone does. Plenty of people only ever feel attracted to one gender.

While people of any gender can be sexually fluid, existing research suggests women tend to experience the most fluidity. Of course, this doesn’t mean all women are sexually fluid.

“Some sexually fluid men may feel more reluctant to talk about the range of attraction they experience, in part due to gender and sexuality stereotypes,” Zogg points out.

“They might avoid commenting on masculine celebrities they consider attractive, for example, or hesitate to express closeness to a male best friend,” says Zogg.

Most definitely, yes. Attraction, like orientation, is something you can’t control.

You might feel more attracted to one gender for a while, then your attraction might shift elsewhere on the spectrum.

Maybe you choose not to express or act on certain attractions, and that’s OK. All the same, you typically can’t pick and choose what part of the spectrum your attraction settles on at any given point in life.

Sexually fluid people might notice attraction shows up in a range of ways.

You could feel sexually attracted to people of one gender but develop stronger romantic feelings for people of another gender.

Maybe one specific person brings out feelings you’ve never had before. Though their traits don’t align with what you’d normally consider your “type,” you feel drawn to this specific excitement or arousal response.

You might also notice the characteristics that appeal to you in more masculine people are completely separate from the characteristics that you look for in more feminine people.

It’s pretty common to act differently on varying types of attraction.

You might:

  • enjoy kissing and cuddling partners of one gender but only have sex with people of another gender
  • enjoy a specific type of sex with one gender, but have different kinds of sex with other genders
  • develop romantic attachments with people of one gender and pursue physical relationships with people of other genders

These are all valid relationship styles. Just take care to practice good communication!

On the surface, sexual fluidity might seem pretty similar to bisexuality and pansexuality. Remember, though, bisexuality and pansexuality are orientations, and sexual fluidity is not.

Bisexuality doesn’t mean the same thing to everyone, but it’s typically recognized as a fairly consistent attraction to two groups: people of your gender and people of other genders.

Some people who identify as bisexual might only feel attracted to people of two genders. Others might develop attractions to people of multiple genders.

Pansexuality, on the other hand, means you might experience attraction to any person, regardless of their gender. In other words, you’re attracted to people of all genders.

You can be both sexually fluid and bisexual or pansexual. For example:

  • Sexually fluid pansexual people might occasionally feel most attracted to people of one gender, then more attracted to different genders again.
  • Sexually fluid bisexual people might temporarily feel more attracted to one gender over another, but this won’t permanently alter their overall attraction to people of other genders.
  • You might describe yourself as sexually fluid when you generally identify with an orientation that doesn’t consistently represent every attraction you experience.

    Say you primarily feel attracted to women, but you’ve had a few relationships with men. You don’t identify as bisexual, but you consider yourself somewhat fluid, since you’re not exclusively attracted to women.

    Maybe you’ve never had a romantic or sexual relationship with someone of your gender. Still, straight doesn’t entirely resonate with you as an orientation because you feel open to the possibility of a non-heterosexual relationship. It just hasn’t happened yet.

    Generally speaking, sexually fluid people have an orientation that remains roughly stable over time.

    So you might use this term if you mostly feel attracted to one gender but want to acknowledge the way your attraction and responses sometimes shift.

    As Diamond and other experts have pointed out, fluidity offers a better, more accurate explanation for what people have, in the past, stereotyped and stigmatized as “confusion.”

    As you go through life, you gain plenty of experience, both personally and from relationships with others.

    This expanding knowledge can have a pretty big impact on self-identity, including your understanding of your orientation.

    As awareness of your orientation develops, you might land on a different way of describing your attractions, and that’s just fine. You’re always free to use whatever term you identify with best.

    Interested in learning more about sexual orientations and identities?

    • Start with our guide to key terms here.
    • Check out the It Gets Better Project for a glossary of LGBTQ+ terms.
    • Visit Identiversity, a nonprofit website that provides factual, expert-informed education about gender and sexual diversity.
  • Complete Article HERE!

Cisgender vs. Straight

— It’s Not Always One and the Same

by Alysse Dalessandro Santiago

If you aren’t familiar with the many terms used to describe members of LGBTQIA+ communities, they may seem like a big ol’ bowl of alphabet soup. But there’s a good reason for all those terms: People are unique, and varying gender identities and sexual orientations can make it hard to fit into a two-gender box.

But what about other terms, like “cisgender,” that often (but not always) exist outside the LGBTQIA+ community? Are you automatically straight if you’re cisgender?

Let us explain cisgender vs. straight.

A cisgender, or “cis,” person identifies as the gender they were assigned at birth. So a cisgender person’s sex on their original birth certificate matches their current gender identity.

You might also see terms like “assigned male at birth” (AMAB) or “assigned female at birth” (AFAB) used to describe someone’s birth gender.

If a person’s gender identity doesn’t match the gender they were assigned at birth, they may identify as transgender or nonbinary.

Are you always male or female at birth?

In the United States, there’s a legal movement for a more inclusive approach to gender. Currently, 13 states allow you to change your birth certificate to say “male,” “female,” or the gender-neutral option “X.”

Identifying as straight is pretty, er, straightforward. Having a sexual orientation of straight means that someone’s attraction, either sexual or romantic, is to a gender other than their own.

This definition is deeply ingrained in societal norms. A straight relationship is typically between a person who identifies as a man and a person who identifies as a woman.

Cisgender” is a gender identity. Gender identity describes how a person identifies themself, such as man, woman, nonbinary, or another identity they prefer. So if someone who was assigned male at birth identifies as a man, he’d be a cisgender male.

“Straight” is a sexual orientation, which describes one’s attraction to other people. Someone is straight if they identify as one gender and are attracted to the “opposite” gender.

A straight relationship is typically seen as involving a cisgender male and a cisgender female. But people whose gender differs from the one they were assigned at birth can still be straight if they’re attracted to a different gender.

When Murray in “Clueless” refers to Dionne as “woman,” that’s her gender. But calling her “female,” well, that would be her sex. What’s the difference? It’s not a simple answer.

Gender is typically influenced by society, not biology, and is responsible for the association of certain traits, language, behavior, and characteristics with being a man or a woman. But gender can be more complex and nuanced than the binary terms.

A person’s gender is often conflated with their sex. Sex is traditionally designated by doctors based on a person’s genitalia at birth. But gender identity is a more expansive view that goes beyond your sex. For example, a trans man could have female genitalia but identify as a man, not a woman.

Bottom line: Your sex (based on genitalia) doesn’t have to “match” your gender (how you identify). Your gender identity isn’t stuck in the construct of your sex.

What about intersex?

The term “intersex” refers to someone’s biological sex not fitting into the binary of male or female. But this term doesn’t dictate gender.

When a person is born intersex, their genitalia, sex organs, hormones, or chromosomes have both female- and male-identifying characteristics. This means an intersex person can have both a uterus and testicles, but they could identify as a man, a woman, nonbinary, etc.

This is also known as a person having a difference in sex development (DSD). It occurs naturally, although some characteristics don’t develop until later in life. Research suggests that about 1 in 100 people are born with DSDs.

As with most things related to gender, it’s not as simple as a person being either cisgender or transgender.

To be either cisgender or transgender still relies on the gender binary of male or female as the framework. Have a penis and identify as a man? Cisgender. Assigned male at birth but identify as a woman? Transgender.

Other gender identities or expressions that don’t always fit into the category of cisgender or transgender include:

  • Nonbinary. Some folks don’t identify as either a man or a woman, while others identify as both. “Nonbinary” is often used as an umbrella term for people whose gender identities exist outside the binary of man and woman.
  • Gender-fluid. A person can also identify as gender-fluid, which means their gender identity is not fixed — instead, they move between identities. One moment “man” fits, and another “woman” feels best.
  • Gender nonconforming. This means someone’s gender expression doesn’t match the gender they were assigned at birth. But people who identify as gender nonconforming may also identify as cisgender.

These are just a few examples. There are more than 64 terms that can describe a person’s gender identity or expression.

The deal with gender identify

Gender identity is up to each individual to decide. And someone’s gender identity may not match their gender expression. For example, someone may identify as a woman, but their appearance may be masculine.

Complete Article HERE!

What Is Sexual Fluidity?

And What Does Being Sexually Fluid Mean?

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Sexual preferences are not set in stone and can change over time, often depending on the immediate situation the individual is in. This has been described as sexual fluidity. For example, if someone identifies as heterosexual but then finds themselves in an environment with only people of the same gender, they might feel increased sexual or romantic attraction to those same-gender partners. Like any other social trait, sexual preferences, attitudes, behaviors and identity can be flexible to some degree.

Another related concept, erotic plasticity, is defined as change in people’s sexual expression — that is, attitudes, preferences and behavior. In other words, someone’s sexual response can fluctuate depending on their surrounding environment.

Simply because change occurs does not mean that women’s, or men’s, sexuality is strange, or, as has been argued in Slate, “confusing, mysterious, or overly complicated”.

Some people have been upset by researchers who study “sexual fluidity”, because the use of the term “variability” in the English language is a synonym for “erraticism” and “capriciousness”, which when used to describe women, can sound sexist. But a careful reading of the scientific literature reveals that there is no implication of women being any more puzzling than men when discussing sexuality.

Not the same as bisexuality

Most people would say they have a sexual orientation. But the degree to which a person is sexually fluid is a separate variable that operates alongside sexual orientation. Some people are highly fluid, while others are less so.

Sexual fluidity can occur in people who are definitively heterosexual or homosexual, but simply experience a change in their sexual response. For example, you may have a preference for a more feminine type of person, but then discover someone who pushes your buttons in a new and exciting way. You may still prefer partners of the same gender with the same feminine leanings as before, but with more masculine features.

Or maybe you crave a different type of sex. Consider a person who usually wants only missionary-position sex with one partner but then moves to a different environment where others around have multiple partners and engage in more adventurous sex acts, and now wants to engage in them. That person has also experienced sexual plasticity.

Bisexuality is defined as the romantic or sexual attraction to other people who identify as either male or female (“bi” meaning two genders). If you ask people who identify as straight, but then have sex with someone else of the same gender, this experience does not necessarily make them “bisexual”, but it does make them sexually fluid.

Research by Lisa Diamond contains examples of women who identify as predominantly heterosexual in their lives, but find themselves falling deeply in love with one particular woman, while continuing to identify as straight. It does not mean these women are bisexual. They have developed such infatuation only for an individual person who happens to be of the same gender.

Longitudinal research shows that people sometimes change their sexual orientation. This is a very important point, because it means that we can’t lump everything together and call it “bisexuality.” It would be counterproductive to label all of these different behaviors “bisexual,” because it would impede scientific research on the true origins and varieties of sexual orientation, as well as sexual outcomes and expressions.

Also, romantic bonding is fundamentally different from sexual desire. In the words of Diamond, “one can fall in love without experiencing sexual desire”.

Men vs. women

If you look at the data, a picture starts to emerge that women as a group tend to be more sexually fluid than men. For example, lesbian-identifying women are significantly more likely to have heterosexual sex compared to gay-identifying men having heterosexual sex. Heterosexual women are significantly more likely to have consensual sex with female partners in prisons compared to heterosexual men in prison.

But certainly these are statistical associations that are entirely relative, and the results say nothing about all women or all men. There are many men and women who show no signs of sexual fluidity at all.

There is some recent work that addresses male sexual fluidity. Consider a 2006 study that asked men to report their sexual experiences over the past 12 months. Results showed that among men who had sex with men, a higher percentage identified as “straight” compared to “gay,” and almost none identified as bisexual. This may be another example of male sexual fluidity.

Human sexuality is not supposed to be simple and straightforward. If psychologists claimed that people’s levels of introversion or neuroticism — two of the “Big Five” personality traits — fluctuate over time, that would perhaps seem intuitively obvious and uncontroversial. But because we are talking about sexual variables, some may assume they are stable over time. That, however, is an unscientific way of looking at the subject.

Complete Article HERE!

The difference between gender, gender expression, and sexuality

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  • Gender, gender presentation, and sexuality are concepts that are commonly lumped together and confused for each other. Insider has compiled a guide to each.
  • Gender is how you identify, whether it be as a man, woman, non-binary, or something else. It can differ from the sex you were assigned at birth based on your genitalia.
  • Sexuality, or sexual orientation, refers to what gender or genders of people you are attracted to, if any.
  • Gender presentation is how you dress, act, and physically present your gender identity, whether it be through clothes, makeup, hair, and more. It does not have to “match” your gender.
  • As more people in the United States begin to openly identify as transgender and/or non-binary, conversations around gender, gender presentation, and sexuality are opening up.These terms are often confused for one another in discussions. Not understanding these terms can make it difficult for some people to understand queerness and transness.Here is an easy guide on the difference between gender, gender presentation, and sexuality.

    What is gender identity?

    Simply put, gender identity refers to how a person sees themselves in terms of their gender.

    While many babies are typically assigned male or female based on their genitalia, with the exception of intersex people who express sexual characteristics of both sexes, this doesn’t necessarily reflect what their gender identity is or will be.

    People who do not identify with the gender they they were assigned at birth typically identify as transgender, non-binary, or both. People who identify with the sex they were assigned at birth are cisgender.

    For example, a woman who was assigned female at birth is a cisgender woman. A man who was assigned female at birth is a transgender man. A person who identifies as a gender outside of man and woman can full under the non-binary spectrum. Many non-binary people are also trans, but it depends on the person.

    Transgender and/or non-binary people do not have to have any medical procedures to be considered valid, though many people do opt for gender-affirming procedures like hormone replacement therapy or surgery.

    Any person can be trans, regardless of their medical history or use of transitionary care.

    What is the difference between gender identity and gender expression?

    While gender is how people identity, gender expression is how a person decides to present their gender externally. This can be through clothing, hair, interests, and other physical forms of expressing yourself.

    Someone’s gender presentation doesn’t dictate their gender identity.

    People can express their gender in ways that don’t match the traditional expectations of the gender they are. For example, a woman can dress in a masculine way and still be a woman. 

    This concept doesn’t change if a person is trans or non-binary. A transman is still a man even if he wears makeup every day and a trans woman is still a woman even if she doesn’t have long hair.

    Non-binary people also do not have to present androgenously to be considered valid in their gender.

    What is the difference between gender and sexuality?

    Gender is who you are, whereas sexuality or sexual orientation is who you are attracted to.

    Sexuality is a spectrum, not a series of distinct categories. Someone can identify as a lesbian, queer, straight, gay, heteroflexible, bisexual, pansexual, and more.

    People can be any sexual orientation, regardless of how they express their gender.

    A person being trans doesn’t automatically mean they are queer in their sexuality. For example, a transman who is attracted to women can identify as straight, and a transwoman who is attracted to women can be a lesbian.

    Ultimately, it’s best to ask people for their pronouns and how they identify, since it’s not possible to assume someone’s gender, gender expression, or sexuality based on how they look.

Complete Article HERE!

A Groundbreaking New History of Gay Sex and Capitalism

Christopher Chitty’s “Sexual Hegemony” is a galaxy-brain examination of the ways in which markets and sexuality intersect.

Buckingham Palace during London’s Lesbian and Gay Pride event in June 1995.

By Josephine Livingstone

In the earliest phase of European capitalism, Marx’s old story goes, a significant number of laborers renounced agrarian communities for towns and cities, dissolving the family unit and moving from one place to another. As Christopher Chitty writes in Sexual Hegemony: Statecraft, Sodomy, and Capital in the Rise of the World System, these workers encountered the state of propertylessness for the first time and transformed from husbands of women and the land into people connected by “impersonal market-mediated relations.” In early modern towns and cities full of solitary laborers, and in the Mediterranean ports where sailors flowed through a porous social texture like water, large numbers of men mingled in common lodgings. These towns, where maritime trade and merchant capital had led to new pools of artisanal, servant, and slave labor, “therefore tended to favor homosexuality,” Chitty writes.

This is but one moment from Chitty’s sweeping history of the relationship between sexuality and capital, which seeks to answer a seemingly trollish question: What if there were no such thing as homophobia? Chitty’s not suggesting that violence against gays is some fiction. Instead, he’s pointing out that homophobia tends to be treated as a “timeless force of exclusion,” some inevitable element of human nature, rather than a relatively recent historical behavior. Specifically: behavior brought about by the convulsions of market capitalism. To read Chitty is to experience something like the “galaxy brain” of meme culture, the kind of world-upending feeling one gets from Antonio Gramsci or Silvia Federici, who also use Marxian theory to question the aspects of our social reality that we take for granted.

Chitty is not alive to see the publication of these striking ideas. Max Fox, the book’s editor, explains in his foreword that Sexual Hegemony “represents both a precious record and a bitter loss”: Chitty committed suicide in 2015 before he could submit a version of it as his doctoral dissertation. In Fox’s words, he was a “brilliant young scholar and activist” in the University of California Santa Cruz’s History of Consciousness Department. After his death, Chitty’s family and friends gave Fox access to “early drafts of chapters, essays submitted as coursework, notes for further refinement or research,” and so on. The book is structured like a dissertation, though a hair shorter than most. The style is academic but sparklingly clear, if you concentrate, though it’s not what anybody would call skimmable. Fox must get the credit for the polish and sheer rhetorical coherence that Sexual Hegemony boasts as a whole.

Here’s another historical example, Engels-style, from the mid-nineteenth century. In 1841, urinals “towering twelve feet above the street, capped with a round glans-like finial,” popped up along the busiest streets of Paris, sparking a trend in sanitation reform that would soon see public toilets studding all the major capitals of Europe. Britain was in the full bloom of industrialization, and the towns buzzed with young workers. Almost immediately, a new problem emerged, as women—especially middle-class British women—complained that these new conveniences provided them with unwanted glimpses of men’s penises. Middle-class bourgeois outrage spread fast and caused literal walls to be built around men’s public toilets, which, in Chitty’s rather luxurious phrasing, “erotically intensified the experience of urination in public by providing a semiprivate, same-sex urban space.”

Sexual Hegemony: Statecraft, Sodomy, and Capital in the Rise of the World System

At the very same time, forensic medicine in France and Germany “discovered” the psychological definition of homosexuality. British elites suddenly became terribly concerned about deviancy among the nation’s poor, of all genders, and “mobilized forces of social control” to make them behave better—hence the invention of the public urinal, and crackdowns on sex between men. It was a “struggle over the phallus,” instigated by capitalism and animated by conflicts between various combinations of class and gender, one where “the entry and influence of middle-class women into the public sphere is the decisive factor in changing norms of urban policing around public displays of sexuality—namely, prostitution and homosexuality.”

Running through all this, Chitty argues, is a deeper truth that doesn’t quite line up with anything historians have said before: “[S]ocioeconomic progress is directly to blame for a wider basis for sexual repression.” Where markets tremble, sexuality is policed, and wherever there are police, the “deviants” of a society become more visible. From this truth then emerges another, just as the big brain follows the littler brain in the meme: “Thus the massive American economic boom of consumer society following the second World War extended middle-class sexual norms to ever more Americans and led to the most extensive policing of homosexuality in any period of history.”

If we think this way, Chitty writes, we can see how America’s fundamentalist Christian revival and the “free love” radical counterculture of the 1960s were “perhaps two faces of the same spiritual awakening,” paired forces that antagonized and inflamed the other according to a logic dictated by—you guessed it—capital.


If Chitty’s theory of the universe makes intuitive sense to you, then you are not alone. As I read Sexual Hegemony slowly, like a child trying to understand all the big words, it felt obvious: Of course more men would have sex with each other when compelled to live side by side, bereft of the family structures they’d left behind. Of course those sexual dynamics would bear some relationship to markets. Of course all that helps explain the correlation between the mad, intense American postwar boom and the massive postwar fuss called “homophobia,” which grew so powerful we needed scientists to study it.

Chitty’s study could probably only have come out of UCSC’s “HistCon” department, a peculiar institution founded in the 1970s. Among its first appointed professors were the literary theorists Hayden White and James Clifford, who were later joined by Angela Davis and Donna Haraway, among others. Founder of the Black Panthers Huey P. Newton received his Ph.D. in HistCon in 1980, which gives you a flavor of the department’s inclinations.

The chief authority Chitty takes aim at in Sexual Hegemony is Michel Foucault, the theorist whose work made HistCon possible. His History of Sexuality had an explosive effect on the twentieth-century postwar intellectual scene, because he had figured out a way to speak about sex and capitalist development in the same breath. Among its sledgehammer ideas is that the new medical science of the nineteenth century produced the “homosexual” by defining it. For Foucault, repressive forces don’t just push marginalized communities to the edges of society but cause them to exist.

The problem with this argument, Chitty thinks, is that it frames oppressed communities as totally passive, as well as suggesting that there is some unique quality to modern gay sex that it never had before. Foucault’s argument doesn’t much account for what was happening before modern science reached its position of authority. Surely there were changes going on in the way people formed sexual relationships as capitalism marched across the globe, Chitty insists, that we can read about and observe in action?

It matters what we forget and what we remember. Perhaps the saddest moment in the book comes toward its end, when Chitty notes that the “boldest propositions have tended to be advanced at the margins of gay history, buried in endnotes or writing not published in the historian’s lifetime.” It’s certainly true here. Lovingly, he frames Sexual Hegemony as a tribute to the unremembered working-class gays of centuries past, who have not been part of the inherently elitist microscope of queer literature. “The oblivion faced by working-class homosexuals was an oblivion of historical memory,” Chitty writes; “by contrast, their elite counterparts left behind a labyrinthine wardrobe of tortured interiority, self-involvement, and coded references in which subsequent generations of queer readers have wandered.”

When we do history this way, Chitty argues, we can sidestep the problem of trying to guess whether queers from history were “authentically gay” or just responding to the pressures of poverty or class hierarchy. We think of modern queer sexuality as defined by the individual’s freedom: a tenet we can see most clearly in the importance we place on the concept of consent. When we read about a poor teenaged boy having sex with rich older men in early modern Venice, our ordinary language of consent just doesn’t apply. But this binary between “real” and “situational” gayness is a false one, Chitty thinks. All sexual encounters, whether present-day or historical, are subject to the contingencies of time and place and power dynamics.

The story behind Chris Chitty’s book also moved me, for a reason the author himself specified. Gay people, he writes, have a particular desire to understand themselves as part of history, for the very reason that we don’t see ourselves in the past. This makes the “homosexual desire for history … itself historical,” he writes, a phenomenon that always leads us to feeling out of place, cut off from solidarity. We have an uncertain kinship with the misunderstood and the dead, who have also lost their place in the world. The desire for history that runs so hot through queers today is also a desire to recognize and be recognized. Both a labor of love and a collaboration across the frontier of death, Sexual Hegemony is one of that desire’s most uniquely affecting expressions. 

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!

I’m Black, Queer, and Polyamorous

— Why Does That Matter to My Doctors?

I deserve the same health care as you.

By Gabrielle Smith

I’m Black, queer, and polyamorous. These things shouldn’t affect my quality of health care but, unfortunately, they do. Because my life is labeled as “alternative,” I run into endless stigma at the doctor’s office.

I’ve been slut-shamed when seeking birth control. I’ve been scrutinized for my non-monogamous lifestyle. I’ve been side-eyed when I mention I have sex with women and men. I can’t donate blood because I have sex with queer men. So often my concerns have been silenced because doctors don’t listen to Black women. And don’t get me started on how difficult it was to find a therapist who took my insurance and also didn’t discriminate against me.

So when it comes to casting my ballot, you best believe I’m paying attention to a candidate’s health care policy. President Donald Trump has failed LGBTQ Americans in that respect — and in so many other ways. The current administration imposed a ban on transgender folks serving in the military. It rolled back protections within the Department of Health and Human Services (HHS), ones that previously banned the discrimination of LGBTQ couples seeking adoption. And lest we forget, it also rescinded Obama-era guidance on how schools should treat transgender students’ bathroom usage.

In terms of health care, the Affordable Care Act, passed in 2010 by the Obama administration, was a landmark victory for so many. It insured and extended coverage for 20 million Americans and also clarified and extended protections for the LGBT community. One study found that after the ACA was implemented, the rate of uninsured LGB adults decreased significantly, dropping from 19 percent in 2013 to 10 percent in 2016.

Ever since the ACA passed, though, the Republican party has been trying to tear it down. Most recently, they’ve urged the Supreme Court to declare the bill unconstitutional. Bottom line: Under the Trump administration, we’ve seen a litany of changes in health care legislation that specifically, and negatively, affects folks in the LGBTQ community.

LGBTQ Folks Are Discriminated Against, Underinsured, and More Often Ill

Unsurprisingly, marginalized people are marginalized. That includes the LGBTQ community — an estimated 11 million U.S. adults, according to a 2018 Gallup report.

In May 2018, the Kaiser Family Foundation (a non-partisan, non-profit organization focused on analyzing national health issues) released a comprehensive report on the state of health and access within the community, and found that, overall, LGBTQ folks are more likely to face challenges finding adequate care and to experience physical health issues, chronic conditions, and early onset of disability. That’s not all. They also found: LGBTQ folks are two and a half times more likely to have depression, anxiety, or substance abuse disorders; almost one in six bisexual women reported experiencing “serious psychological distress” in the past 30 days, with a little over a quarter having considered suicide; bisexual adults are significantly less likely to have adequate access to care compared to other sexual orientations; and almost half of transgender folks postponed medical care because they couldn’t afford it.

In addition, the Human Rights Campaign, an LGBTQ advocacy group, released a research brief on the status of LGBTQ folks and COVID-19. It found that they’re more likely to work in at-risk environments such as food service (see: the cute blue-haired barista at your local coffee shop who knows your order by heart, or me, the bartender who asks if you want to do a shot together). LGBTQ folks are also more likely to be poorer than those of other sexualities, and as a result not be able to afford regular medical care.

Finding adequate care goes beyond considering financial means — it includes navigating a minefield of discrimination. In a survey conducted by Lambda Legal (an LGBT legal and advocacy organization), 56 percent of lesbian, gay, and bisexual respondents reported instances of providers denying care, using harsh language, or blaming their sexual orientation or gender identity as the cause of an illness; that jumps to 70 percent for transgender and gender-nonconforming individuals.

It’s pretty clear: Queer folks are far more likely to need the healthcare system and are more likely to be failed by it. While the ACA helped millions of Americans, for so many queer folks, it still didn’t do enough.

Attacks On LGBTQ Protection via Section 1557

The ACA was one step forward for LGBTQ health care, but the Trump administration continues to go after its policies — most importantly, those that prevent medical discrimination.

For folks in the LGBTQ community, one of the most important changes from the ACA was that Section 1557 added language to include gender identity and sexuality toward the protected class of “sex.” This is significant because the Civil Rights Act of 1964 declared it unlawful to discriminate against people on the basis of sex, and thus, adding gender identity and sexuality to the definition of sex protects LGBTQ folks from discrimination as well. It specifically addressed important aspects of care, such as: health care providers must treat individuals consistent with their gender identity, they cannot deny sex-specific treatment due to gender identity (ex: trans men cannot be denied care for HPV or ovarian cancer, etc.), and the explicit exclusion of trans-affirming care (ex: hormone therapy or gender-affirming surgeries) is considered discriminatory.

So, you know, treat people like people. Make sure they don’t die and whatnot. While it seems wild to think that doctors would deny life-saving health care like prostate exams for trans-feminine individuals… some folks would rather see trans folk die. In these cases, a transgender person would need to find care from alternative providers. While this sounds simple, they risk having to go out-of-network or go without.

The HSS, under President Trump, eliminated these protections and others related to LGBT care, which means trouble for queer folks all around. The Supreme Court and a few district courts have sought to uphold some of these protections or block the new regulations, but the chipping away at these protections allows room for anti-queer action by local, state and federal governments, as well as by individual medical providers.

This isn’t the only way the current administration has undermined the ACA, and thus, put marginalized folks at risk. It also passed a ruling to allow “short-term health insurance,” which could leave those faced with sudden health issues to deal with massive medical bills. Short-term health insurance allows people to feel like they have coverage, but in reality, these plans are allowed to bypass ACA requirements like covering pre-existing conditions. This is notable not only because of the community’s predisposition to chronic illness but also because HIV is an especially large concern in the LGBTQ population.

In the 2020 election, we must hold leaders accountable. Vice President Biden says he plans to uphold the Affordable Care Act if elected — and also promises to build on the act and make it even more accessible, according to his campaign. He told NBC News he wants to create a public insurance option and allow Americans to keep their private insurance if they choose, as well as cap medication prices and out-of-pocket costs.

If that’s the case, members of my community will be hoping for the resolution of other health care hurdles as well. Many insurance providers still do not cover facial feminization (cosmetic procedures to affirm gender) for trans-feminine individuals. This can be lifesaving medical care considering the rate at which trans women are murdered; allowing someone to affirm their gender via procedures like this not only allows them to outwardly present the way they identify, but also helps protect them from hate crimes or acts of intolerance. Not to mention, the intersection of religious freedom and LGBTQ rights is consistently used as justification to discriminate against queer folk. In 2018, the current administration created an office of “Conscience and Religious Freedom” within the HHS, which gives individual people, providers, and health care entities more leeway to discriminate against LGBTQ people based on religious beliefs.

Maybe these issues don’t affect you. Maybe you could care less. But think about your loved ones and peers, as well as your fellow Americans. If this country is as great as it’s proclaimed to be, shouldn’t everyone feel comfortable walking into a doctor’s office? Imagine your child couldn’t receive a pap smear because of who they date or how they identify. Then imagine your child gets HPV, the most commonly transmitted STI, which can become cancerous without care. Or imagine your child was like me, faced with the knowledge that an ex-boyfriend’s partner received an abnormal pap (meaning he could have then transmitted potentially-cancerous HPV to me), but unable to receive care due to lack of insurance. This shouldn’t be the reality. Yet, it prevails.

Advocating for equality is a frustrating, exhausting, and terrifying fight. I dream of the day I can walk into my doctor’s office and not fear the details of my sex life will impact the quality of my treatment. Until then, I’m looking for rainbows on the door of my doctor’s office and looking toward this election for a glimmer of hope.

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!

The Term ‘Sexual Preference’ Is Outdated, Offensive, and Incorrect

By Erin Bunch

During Tuesday’s confirmation hearing at the Senate Judiciary Committee, Judge Amy Coney Barrett, President Trump‘s latest nominee to the Supreme Court, utilized the term “sexual preference” in discussions surrounding LGTBQ+ discrimination. Specifically, she stated that she “would not discriminate on basis of sexual preference” if confirmed.

While Barrett, 47, is not alone in deploying this phrase to describe different types of attraction (physical, romantic, or emotional), it is an antiquated term; in fact, the Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation (GLAAD) has been recommending its eradication from our vocabularies for at least 20 years.

“Sexual preference” is not just old-school lingo, either. “It’s offensive because it’s used by anti-LGBTQ+ activists to suggest that being gay, lesbian, or bisexual is voluntary or a choice and therefore ‘curable,’ like through debunked conversion therapy, which actively harms LGBTQ+ people and should be banned everywhere,” says Barbara Simon, head of news and campaigns at GLAAD. According to research, more than 700,000 people in the LGTBQ+ have been subjected to this form of abuse. It is not condoned by any major medical organization, and no studies have shown it to be effective in changing sexual orientation.

Use of the term “sexual preference” is a microaggression that gaslights the lived reality of LGBTQ+ folks while endangering their physical and mental wellbeing. The accepted phrase to use instead, according to GLAAD, is “sexual orientation” or simply “orientation.”

If you are a member of the LGBTQ+ community and want to correct someone who’s used this term, Simon recommends the following template: “”Sexual preference’ is not a thing. What I think you mean is ‘sexual orientation,’ and it’s a scientifically accurate term for a person’s enduring physical, romantic, and emotional attraction to members of the same-sex, or if you are straight, to members of the opposite sex (being straight is a sexual orientation too!). Sexual ‘preference’ is an inaccurate, outdated, offensive term. Being gay is simply how I’m oriented and who I happily am.’”

Simon also points out that Barrett does indeed have a personal history of discrimination based on sexual orientation—as lawyer and Well+Good contributor Jill Filipovic tweeted Tuesday, and as evidenced by Barrett’s views on marriage for same-sex couples and gender identity. While this doesn’t necessarily mean she would rule according to her personal values as a Supreme Court justice, this history—and the judge’s use of a discriminatory term while on the most important public stage of her life—does not exactly paint her as an LGBTQ+ ally that, if appointed, will allow the LGBTQ+ community to rest easy in the knowledge that their rights will continue to be expanded or protected.

After all, Barrett is a lawyer and a judge and as such, her words are not accidentally spoken but rather carefully chosen. It’s important to hear them as they are intended to be heard.

Complete Article HERE!

Biphobia Is Killing the ‘B’ in LGBTQ. Literally

Bisexual people have poorer mental, physical and sexual health than either heterosexuals or homosexuals. We explore why.

by Suryatapa Mukherjee

Bisexual+ people often feel like the protagonist of the Robert Frost poem The Road Not Taken. It feels like we are standing at a fork in the road, with two paths before us, one leading to the life of a heterosexual, the other taking us to the life of a homosexual. We are told this multiple times by our family, our friends, the queer community and mainstream society. We must make a choice, they say. But this notion of “choice” is what I believe lies at the root of all our problems. It is a false dilemma.

Both of these paths are traps.

Bisexuality+ is an umbrella term inclusive of anyone who experiences attraction to more than one gender. And no, it does not mean “50 percent gay and 50 percent straight” as many still believe. To say that bisexuality+ implies a choice, is to do a great disservice to the legacy of Chinnu Sulfikar whose death just some months ago brought the practice of conversion therapy to mainstream conversation. Her parents forced her into conversion therapy—a dangerous, illegal and inhuman practice that targets LGBTQ youth and seeks to change their sexual or gender identities—after she came out to them as bisexual.

I myself tried to make that “choice” and pretended to be straight for as long as I could. But that was essentially like inflicting emotional violence on myself. The pain of living a lie reached a crescendo and I eventually came out to my teenage boyfriend amid sobs. Even though my path to self-acceptance was paved with anxiety and trauma, I internalised the message that I had some sort of privilege over other queer people, because I could “go back” to the straight life.

There are bisexual+ people who come to the queer community finally expecting acceptance and understanding. In its place though, they often are faced with biphobia—a dislike or prejudice against bisexual people. Biphobia can range from invalidating the legitimacy of bisexuality as a real sexual orientation, stereotyping bisexual people, to perpetrating physical and sexual violence against them. The biphobia comes from both, straight people who think bisexuality is just an excuse for “keeping options open”, and from the queer community who often think we are “queer enough” only if we’re in same-sex relationships. In a way then, many bisexual people step out of the straight closest and find themselves to then be in a gay closet.

It is this double discrimination from both homosexuals and heterosexuals that’s often the cause for bisexual people’s poor mental health. A study found that 77.6 percent of bisexuals had contemplated suicide as compared to 11.7 percent of the general population.

Biphobia usually begins with our mind but it gradually wreaks havoc over our body. Bisexual+ people suffer more often from gastrointestinal problems, arthritis, and obesity than monosexuals. Additionally, bisexual+ men are less likely than gay men to be screened for HIV which could lead to undiagnosed or accidental transmission. The social isolation and psychological distress caused by biphobia leads people to engage in sexually risky behaviours, substance use and the avoidance of prevention services, thus increasing HIV/STI risk.

“I always pick and choose different parts of myself I can share with different people,” says Harjeet*, an HIV+ divorced man, who tells me he has never completely been himself with anyone. “I never told my ex-wife that I am bisexual+. I didn’t want to lose her because of it.” Harjeet is open about his sexuality with his gay friends but they are not exactly supportive. “They say that bisexuals just want a ‘hole’. They say I must pick a side.” When he had tested positive for HIV back in 2018, he’d seriously contemplated suicide. Thankfully, the HIV+ community rallied alongside him and made him believe he can have a long, healthy life.

Part of the reason behind bisexual people suffering from the laundry list of physical and mental ailments is also “minority stress”—the excess stress that people from stigmatised social categories experience as a result of their social position. It is the reason lesbian and bisexual+ women are 27 percent more likely to develop type 2 diabetes than heterosexual women.

However, such research does not include non-binary and transgender people. “Quite a few times, female friends distance themselves from me after I say that I’m pansexual,” says Yasha Juneja, a 25-year-old non-binary person with diabetes. “It doesn’t matter if I say they are not my type. It’s as if they are so straight that even being close to a non-straight person would stain them.” Peer rejection has stuck with Juneja like a thorn in their side. Such panphobia, along with gender dysphoria, has deeply harmed their mental health, and Juneja too has struggled with suicidal thoughts.

When a bisexual+ person is transgender, their risk for poor health—often resulting from substance use, depression and suicidal thoughts—rises higher. “Growing up, I battled an eating disorder along with depression and suicidal thoughts,” says Daman Halder, a pansexual trans man who is hurt more by transphobia than panphobia. However, even within the transgender community, his sexuality is not always welcome. “At a meeting of activists, a trans woman had asked me about my romantic interests. When I came out as pansexual, she reacted with shock, saying, ‘You’re a man so you should act like a man. Why do you want to fluctuate?’”

It is interesting how biphobia morphs with the intersectionalities of its target’s identity. Noor*, like many bisexual+ women, says that straight men think of threesomes when she comes out to them. Data shows the grim consequence of this stereotype. Nearly half of all bisexual+ women experience rape and three-quarters experience sexual violence. Researchers say its cause is the hypersexualisation of bisexual+ women, along with biphobia.

One of the reasons Noor’s ex, a lesbian, left her was her sexual orientation. “She said bisexual+ women can’t be trusted and they ultimately choose men due to familial pressure,” Noor says. Her ex preferred a lesbian over her. Noor is prone to self-harm, and sees a therapist to manage her anxiety.

All of these experiences lead to an inner turmoil and internalised biphobia. Harjeet is one of many who’d like to wish his bisexuality+ away. “I think bisexuality is the problem, not biphobia,” he says to me at the end of our conversation. “If I wasn’t bisexual, I’d be able to choose one path.”

I ask Harjeet to imagine a third road in the woods. What if he didn’t have to perform a “gay side” with his gay friends and a “straight side” with his straight family? He pauses. When Harjeet was a teenager, his grandfather had caught him with a boy on their terrace. The incident had inspired such shame in him that he had run a high fever back then. “Maybe if my grandfather had not scolded me, I wouldn’t have felt that shame. Maybe I would’ve told my ex-wife about my sexuality.” Harjeet tells me how this is the first time he has shared all parts of his story with someone, and that this has been therapeutic for him too. “Rejection teaches you to lie,” he tells me. “Rejection teaches you to reject yourself.”

*Names changed for anonymity

Complete Article HERE!