Zander Moricz, Florida class president of Pine View, talked about his ‘curly hair’ in a heartfelt speech and used it as an analogy for his sexuality. Zander had to adhere to restrictons because of Florida’s controversial ‘Don’t Say Gay’ laws in schools.
The curly hair metaphor that everyone loved
A college student banned from using the word ‘gay‘ at his graduation speech used a clever metaphor to speak about his sexual orientation.
Zander Moricz, Florida class president of Pine View, talked about his ‘curly hair’ in a heartfelt speech and used it as an analogy for his sexuality.
Zander had to adhere to restrictions because of Florida’s controversial ‘Don’t Say Gay’ laws in schools.
So as the high school graduate began his speech, he replaced gay with ‘curly hai’. By doing so, he left audiences in awe and also drew worldwide attention to his activism for the LGBTQIA+ community.
“I must discuss a very public part of my identity. This characteristic has probably become the first thing you think of me as a human being. As you know, I have curly hair,” said Zander, while speaking at the Van Wezel Performing Arts Hall
The clip showing his speech has now collected over 8.4 million views on Twitter.
florida high school class president zander moricz was told by his school that they would cut his microphone if he said “gay” in his grad speech, so he replaced gay with “having curly hair.” i am in awe pic.twitter.com/OqLbar5bwq
The teenager even removed his mortarboard cap and unveiled his curly hair to the audience.
“I used to hate my curls. I spent mornings and nights embarrassed of them, trying to desperately straighten this part of who I am. But the daily damage of trying to fix myself became too much to endure,” he said.
He further added: “So while having curly hair in Florida is difficult, due to the humidity, I decided to be proud of who I was and started coming to school as my authentic self.”
Staying on the metaphor, Zander went on to say the growth of his ‘hair’ was a messy process but he came out well due to the support of his friends and teachers.
He ended his speech by saying it was important for him to speak up about his curly hair and other curly-haired students who are adjusting to ‘Florida’s humidity’.
The moving speech comes a few months after the controversial ‘Do Say Gay’ bill was signed and passed by the state. The bill prevents the teaching of sexual orientation and gender identity from pre-school to third grade.
The number of people who identify as queer in the UK Census has increased over the past few years. This trend is in particular driven by the rising number of LGBT+ identities among people aged 16 to 24 years. The most popular sexual identity within this emerging group is bisexual – the romantic and/or sexual attraction to more than one gender. Data from the Office for National Statistics (ONS) shows an increase from 0.7 per cent in 2015 to 1.1 per cent in 2019. Rather than a sudden new surge of bisexual desires, increased acceptance, legal protection and visibility are likely to be the cause of this increase.
But why should we count how many people are bi, or study what their experiences are? Research is young in this field, but we’re already seeing that tossing all queer identities into one research bucket renders the unique struggles of being bisexual invisible. For a start, it’s hard to even get an accurate sense of the exact number of British people who are bisexual. Many people who are attracted to people beyond one gender, shy away from the identity label ‘bisexual’. When it comes to research, this reluctance has led scientists to come up with alternative ways to capture and categorise sexuality.
One of the most common tools used is The Kinsey Scale. First published in 1948 by biologist Dr Alfred Kinsey, it is used to place people on a spectrum of sexual attraction between entirely heterosexual and entirely homosexual, using a scale from 0 to 6. It also includes ‘X’ for those who are asexual. It was so successful that it is still the single most popular scale for classifying sexuality. It’s often what people are indirectly referring to when they say, “Aren’t we all a bit bi?”
When YouGov surveys conducted in 2019 used questions that mimicked The Kinsey Scale, researchers found at least a third of people aged 18 to 24 say that they are attracted to multiple genders. A startling figure compared to the 1 per cent reporting to the ONS. Only with research can we cut through the reluctance people have to say “I am bisexual”, and find out whether those attracted to multiple genders need more support than those who aren’t.
Since social scientists and other researchers have started to analyse the B, we have begun to understand the struggles that uniquely endanger bi people. Research shows us that bi women are hypersexualised, and stereotypes that see bi women as promiscuous sexual playthings feed into people’s existing rape myths.
Accordingly, studies have found that bisexual women are significantly more likely to be raped, repeatedly sexually assaulted, and to be the victims of intimate partner abuse than lesbian and heterosexual women. Had this research homogenised all women into one group, we might never have known that the stereotypes affecting bi women specifically place them at far greater risk of sexual victimisation.
A different cluster of toxic assumptions awaits bi men. Bisexual men are seen as lying, to themselves and others, because they are thought to be gay. And, particularly in the 1980s and 1990s, bi men were also seen as murderers in disguise, catching AIDS when having sex with men and giving it their female partners. This left many bisexual men isolated and alone, failed by educational campaigns that rarely moved beyond gay spaces.
We need to acknowledge the unique needs of bi people, including a specific focus on bi men. If we don’t, we fail a huge amount of the population. Armed with bi-specific research, we stand a better chance of winning the fight back against the societal biases and misconceptions that hold bisexual people down.
As a young researcher, I didn’t know anyone else who was bisexual in my field, or, for that matter, in any field. It was rarely mentioned, not even in lectures specifically on sex and sexuality. When I graduated with my PhD in 2012, I had no idea how useful my background in criminal psychology would come to be when I turned my gaze to studying bisexuality. For my new book, Bi: The Hidden Culture, History And Science Of Bisexuality, I have found and spoken to researchers across the globe and in various disciplines who are all fighting for change.
I want the world to be a safer place for people like me. The best way that we can achieve that is to visibly support bi people. Let’s not allow the ‘B’ slip into the shadows of its colourful siblings.
Do you ever feel lost when it comes to the countless phrases coming out of LGBTQ+ spaces? Are you straight and trying to be a better ally, or are you LGBTQ+ yourself but don’t know how to describe yourself to others? There is good news, Kate Sloan’s new book 200 Words to Help You Talk About Sexuality & Gender is a resource that dives deeply into modern language and highlights the various interpretations of each word or phrase, along with the ways each word might be hurtful or misrepresentative when used in the wrong context.
For starters, Sloan tackles a huge range of topics from the basic concepts of gender and sex, along with the more niche ideas of stigma, biology, Kink & BDSM terminology, and words that just help with the use of the English language, such as pronouns, culture, and gender identities/roles. Each entry looks at the origin of the word (when it’s relevant), who might use that word, who might be upset if you use that word incorrectly, and much more.
For LGBTQ+ Folks
As a queer+trans person, I was struck by many entries in this book that helped me understand words I was using poorly. Some things were easier for me to learn over the years, like how “Gold Star Gay” can feel invalidating to bisexual people, people who have been victims of sexual assault, and people who came out later in life after having sexual relationships with someone of another gender. Other things, like the term “boi” originating in Black culture and being a facet of that culture were news to me, but explain why Black and Hispanic friends of mine would respond poorly when I used that word. There are so many ways our dearly beloved queer language has grown over the last few decades that it’s impossible for everyone to know the history of every word. But, thanks to resources like 200 Words, we can hope to better understand the context from which these phrases came.
Ultimately, this isn’t an attempt to “police” terms or phrases, merely an opportunity to learn the context of words we might have picked up while frequenting discreet websites in the ’90s, or even on Tumblr, Reddit, or Google more recently.
For Allies
If you are (or want to be) an ally for LGBTQ+ people in your life (or even the world at large), I vigorously encourage you to get your hands on a copy of this book. Partly, this is because there are just so many darn words to learn. Even more important, though, is that the English language cannot help us improve equity if we do not help it grow through its use. By discussing issues using proper language, we empower ourselves and those we discuss things with to lift LGBTQ+ people and voices to a better place in society.
One note, though: Many times, this book may caution you to consider whether to use a word for another person. For example, a nonbinary person might dislike the term “enby” and not identify with it. If you refer to them as an enby, they may think you are belittling their experience, even if you are trying to be supportive. So, to be safe, always ask someone what words they use to describe themselves and never, ever, ever correct someone’s use of those words. If you think someone is using a word in a harmful way, share your copy of the book with them so they can see another side to that word or phrase in that context. You should never, however, tell them they are using it wrong or try to get them to use a different word for themselves. That’s on them.
For Sex Ed
Sex education is a topic we feel strongly about at GeekDad. You can see our Top 10 Sex Ed Books post for reference (now updated to include this resource!), and we have covered various graphic novels and other media from an LGBTQ+ perspective over the years. The unfortunate truth is there is no such thing as a single resource to learn everything about the human body or our sexual, romantic, or gender identities. This book is an excellent starting point, but it doesn’t really cover the details of physical and emotional health that are vital to sexual education, so we encourage you to check our Top 10 post for more resources if you are looking for more holistic educational resources.
TL;DR
200 Words to Help You Talk About Sexuality & Gender is a fantastic reference for those wanting to learn more about how to discuss LGBTQ+ topics, regardless of your own level of experience or involvement with the LGBTQ+ community. You will find information on what each word means, who might use it, and how it might be inappropriate if used in the wrong context. It makes an excellent gift or an excellent accompaniment to sex education materials whether or not you’re a member of the LGBTQ+ community.
If you’ve ever wanted to watch a bunch of well-intentioned straight men ask gay men questions about sex, relationships, and coming out, this BuzzFeed video has you covered.
Watching straight men stare at their feet and fumble through asking questions like, “What if you’re both bottoms or both tops?” and, “Would you rather a just-a-little-bit-smaller-than-an-average dick or a way-too-big-to-do-anything-with dick?” (spoiler: it’s the too-big dick) is the most awkward thing I’ve watched in a while. Mostly because I’m now convinced that more straight men need to be friends with gay men stat so they’re not as painfully nervous and weird around them.
Plus, how cool would it be to see your straight guy friends and gay guy friends chilling and talking about “when the butt hole falls out”? Pretty cool.
Charts and scales can help better explain many things in life, and sexuality is no different. One of the most popular scales used to understand sexuality is the Kinsey Scale, which was created to help describe a person’s sexual orientation. Though not without its limitations, this scale can be a useful way for some people to make sense of their sexual orientation.
What is the Kinsey Scale?
The Kinsey Scale is a visual representation of sexuality along a spectrum ranging from exclusively heterosexual to exclusively homosexual. Originally called the Heterosexual-Homosexual Rating Scale, the Kinsey Scale was created by Drs. Alfred Kinsey, Wardell Pomeroy, and Clyde Martin and first introduced in their book Sexual Behavior in the Human Male in 1948.
“The scale was created as a way to ‘measure’ someone’s sexual orientation beyond simply heterosexual, bisexual, or homosexual, based on a spectrum-like scale where ‘exclusively heterosexual’ was on one end and ‘exclusively homosexual’ on the other,” explains Anne Hodder-Shipp, multi-certified sex and relationships educator and founder of Everyone Deserves Sex Ed.
At the time, Kinsey’s research found that most people fell somewhere between the two, Hodder-Shipp notes. This, and much of Kinsey’s research, was considered subversive and groundbreaking for its time.
That said, today the scale is considered to have some limitations, both in terms of its ability to accurately represent the vast array of experiences of sexuality and because it excludes nonbinary folks. Not everyone will feel like they fit into one of these seven categories, and that’s OK.
How it started.
The Kinsey Scale was named after Alfred Kinsey, who is widely considered one of the 20th century’s most significant sex researchers, according to sexologist Carol Queen, Ph.D. It’s no stretch to say that without his work, today’s sexual landscape would look very different and less diverse.
Kinsey, who was an entomologist, was hired at Indiana University to teach sex education, but there wasn’t much to draw from. So, with the help of a team of grad students, he began doing his own research, much of which ultimately changed the world of sexual education and understanding.
The Kinsey Scale was developed in an attempt to show how sexual orientation (specifically, heterosexuality and homosexuality) existed on a continuum, or spectrum. A common misconception today, Queen adds, is that “Kinsey was trying to codify a binary way of looking at sex. This is ahistorical, though.”
“People did think in binary, either/or terms in those days to a significant degree,” she notes but adds, “Among other things, the Kinsey scale illustrates how significant bisexuality is since everything in the middle of the scale could be called bisexual.”
How the Kinsey scale is used.
As mentioned, the Kinsey scale is used to categorize a person’s sexual attraction between exclusively heterosexual and exclusively homosexual. The scale runs from zero to six and includes an additional category labeled X, which attempts to represent asexuality.
Here’s what each label represents:
0: Exclusively heterosexual behavior or attraction
1: Predominantly heterosexual and only incidentally homosexual behavior or attraction
2: Predominantly heterosexual but more than incidentally homosexual behavior or attraction
3: Equally heterosexual and homosexual behavior or attraction
4: Predominantly homosexual but more than incidentally heterosexual behavior or attraction
5: Predominantly homosexual and only incidentally heterosexual behavior or attraction
6: Exclusively homosexual behavior or attraction
X: No socio-sexual contacts or reactions
(Note: Some versions of the scale use the term “slightly” instead of “incidentally,” and “mostly” instead of “predominantly.” So for example: “Mostly heterosexual and only slightly homosexual.”)
Pros & cons of the scale.
We know much more today about sexual orientation, attraction, and human sexuality, and so while the Kinsey Scale was groundbreaking for its time, it also has its limitations. Like everything else, it has its pros and cons.
Pros:
1. It acknowledges the spectrum of sexuality.
The Kinsey Scale does an excellent job of debunking the “either/or” thinking surrounding sexuality. It was the first scientific scale to put forward the idea that sexuality is a continuum and isn’t limited to being just heterosexual or homosexual. As Queen points out, the scale shows that sexual orientation can exist on a spectrum, and much of the spectrum thinking we do today—the ace spectrum, for instance—owes a lot to this conceptualization.
2. It highlights bisexuality.
The Kinsey Scale emphasizes the existence of bisexuality and the many ways a person can experience it in its categories one through five. Kinsey’s research at the time found 37% of the men interviewed had some kind of same-sex experience between adolescence and adulthood, and this number jumped to 50% for unmarried men by the age of 35. Among women, 13% had a same-sex experience. This data was groundbreaking for its time and made it clear that human sexuality was vast.
“It really helped make bisexuality visible, as well as helping bring homosexuality out of the closet. In my day (the ’70s, when I came out), the gay movement very openly acknowledged its debt to Kinsey,” Queen says.
3. Aids in understanding.
Queen says the Kinsey Scale can help a person (or a clinician working with people around sexuality issues) understand their own or their client’s sexual experience, help them visualize their sexual orientation if they find it helpful to do so, and show that this experience is on a continuum and there may be room for them to explore different options than they have so far.
Cons:
1. Excludes nonbinary folks.
The Kinsey Scale “maintains the sex and gender binary,” Hodder-Shipp points out. Describing people’s behavior as exclusively some mix of “heterosexual” or “homosexual” depicts gender and sex in binary terms, making the Kinsey Scale less useful for those who are nonbinary. Some trans and intersex people may also find these categories limiting, not fully nuanced enough, or exclusionary.
The scale wasn’t intentionally meant to exclude these groups of people, Queen notes; it is in many ways an artifact of its time, and language to describe gender diversity was simply in its infancy at the time the scale was developed.
2. Focuses on behavior rather than identity.
The Kinsey Scale focuses on behavior rather than identity. So rather than describing how much a person identifies as heterosexual or homosexual, it describes how heterosexual or homosexual their pattern of sexual behaviors has been. This distinction matters a lot to some people: For example, a lesbian who only came out later in life may largely have a history of having sex with men, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t a lesbian.
According to Queen, Kinsey didn’t think it was appropriate to use orientation terms as anything but adjectives—he did not want us to use these words to define ourselves, but so far he has lost that battle with history, she says. “Still, when we think about why he felt so strongly, it might point to the fluidity of identity, or the way people can engage in all sorts of behavior that doesn’t match their ‘label,’ and when we look at our history of behaviors and attractions, those are really useful insights.”
3. Doesn’t consider romantic attraction.
The Kinsey Scale focuses on sexual attraction without distinguishing between sexual and romantic orientations, sex and relationship coach Azaria Menezes points out. For some people, there’s a difference between who we’re sexually attracted to and who we’re romantically attracted to, but this isn’t accounted for on the scale.
4. Oversimplifies sexual orientation.
In general, many people today argue that the scale can feel like an oversimplification of how many people experience sexual attraction. “Though it did technically create new sexual orientation ‘categories,’ the scale still simplified sexual attraction in ways that can feel arbitrary and even confusing,” Hodder-Shipp says.
“Like, what does it mean to be ‘incidentally’ homosexual or heterosexual? Where do I fall on the Kinsey Scale if I’m not really heterosexual but also definitely not homosexual? What if I feel lovey-dovey feelings toward pretty much any gender, but only sometimes feel sexually attracted to one gender?”
5. Can pressure people into categories they don’t resonate with.
Some people don’t desire to label their sexual orientation or attraction at all, Menezes points out. Not everyone feels comfortable being identified as a number on a scale, and with only seven points, the options are limited. And since there is so much new information when it comes to sexuality and seemingly infinite ways to experience sexual attraction, the Kinsey Scale may not quite “fit” anymore.
Other scales and variations.
Today, there are several other scales that try to present a visual representation of sexual orientation and identity. Two of the more popular and inclusive ones are the Klein Sexual Orientation Grid and the Storms Sexuality Axis.
The Klein Sexual Orientation Grid is a direct riff on the Kinsey Scale. It was created by Fritz Klein in 1978 and has seven categories, including sexual behavior, sexual attraction, sexual fantasies, lifestyle preferences, and more. It works by having each respondent rate their preferences in each category across three different points in time—past, present, and ideal—which improves upon some of the limitations of the Kinsey Scale. The Klein scale also does a better job of including the ace spectrum, as well as other gender identity scales of today, says Queen.
The Storms Sexuality Axis was developed by Michael D. Storms and plots eroticism on an X and Y axis, with heterosexuality on the Y-axis and homosexuality on the X-axis. While it expands on Kinsey’s ideas, it also allows for more inclusivity and considers infinitely more categories of bisexuality as well as asexuality.
The bottom line.
The Kinsey Scale was incredible and ahead of its time, but in many ways, it may not quite fit how we talk about sexuality and sexual identity today. It’s not a one-fits-all situation, and you absolutely don’t have to fit or identify within the Kinsey Scale.
If you do find yourself identifying with the parameters set on the scale, Menezes suggests “taking what you love and leaving the rest.”
Questions about your sexual identity can be complicated. There are tons of words to describe different sexual orientations: lesbian, gay, bisexual, asexual, queer, pansexual, and so many more. You may be wondering which one fits you best, if any. It’s important to keep in mind that labels can be helpful in understanding your sexual identity, but if you feel like there isn’t a particular label that suits you, that’s okay and doesn’t mean your identity is any less valid.
For some people, the question of “am I gay” is easy to answer. Some people can point to a moment when they knew they were gay, and others feel like they’ve always just known. For others, their journey of discovering their sexuality can be a little less linear. There’s no wrong way to go about it.
But by definition, to identify as gay would mean that you feel sexual and/or romantic attraction to someone of your same gender identity, says LGBTQ+ expert Kryss Shane. “Sometimes it’s a general awareness, other times it’s self-recognition from a same-sex friendship that begins to feel like something more, and sometimes it’s through sexual exploration,” Shane explains.
If you think that you might be gay, here are some resources and things to keep in mind as you explore your sexuality.
You don’t have to have it all figured out.
Like we said, there are a lot of terms people use to describe their sexual identity and/or gender orientation. Some of them might even feel like they fit for a while, but you could later decide that they don’t really describe who you are. Learning about yourself and your sexuality is a journey, and it’s actually a really beautiful thing.
Your safety is important.
If you don’t feel it’s safe for you to be out in certain contexts—whether with family, at work, at school, or anywhere else—you should trust that instinct. It doesn’t mean you’re denying who you are, it means you’re making the best and safest decision for you.
You don’t have to justify or explain your identity to anyone you don’t want to.
If you want to share your journey with people in your life, go for it! But if you’re not ready to come out yet or share this part of yourself with people, that’s okay, too. You can share as much or as little as you want when it comes to your sexual orientation.
You aren’t alone.
Although your journey with your sexual orientation is unique, you don’t have to do it alone. If it feels safe, you can include your loved ones as you figure it all out, but if that’s not an option for you, you’re still not alone. There are tons of supportive LGBTQ+ people who can support you on your journey.
Some organizations you might want to look into if you’re trying to find your LGBTQ+ community are:
PFLAG. There are over 400 chapters across 50 states, so you can connect with LGBTQ+ people in your area who have been where you are.
Q Chat Space. If you’re between the ages of 13 and 19 and questioning your sexuality, you can join live online chats for LGBTQ+ and questioning teens facilitated by experienced staff who work at LGBTQ+ centers around the country.
TrevorSpace. This is an online community for LGBTQ+ young people ages 13 to 24, where you can join discussion groups and get advice from other people.
Your local LGBTQ+ community center. If you live in an area with a dedicated LGBTQ+ community center, they likely have support groups for people who are LGBTQ+ or questioning their sexual identity. They may also have groups for LGBTQ+ people of specific races, ethnicities, ages, or other intersecting identities.
Your local community center. Even if you don’t have an LGBTQ+ community center, your local community center may have an LGBTQ+ support group or LGBTQ+ social events that you can check out.
Find support and comfort through queer representation.
Reading books about LGBTQ+ people or watching LGBTQ+ movies can help you make sense of your own identity. There are tons of movies and TV shows with gay, queer, and lesbian representation that you can stream. Or you can start getting into the many LGBTQ+ podcasts out there, from ones that teach you about queer history to ones that address issues that LGBTQ+ people face today.
You can always reach out for help if you need it.
In addition to the above organizations that provide support groups and other forums for connecting with LGBTQ+ people, there are plenty of other resources you can turn to as you figure things out.
The Trevor Project. The Trevor Project has tons of resources to help you learn about different sexual orientations, mental health, gender identity, and more. They also offer LGBTQ+ informed crisis counselors you can talk to via chat, phone, or text.
The LGBT National Help Center. This organization operates three national hotlines to provide peer support, information, and other resources to LGBTQ people. They also offer support via online chat and weekly moderated chats for LGBTQ youth.
The It Gets Better Project. It Gets Better helps highlight stories and connect lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and queer youth around the world. They also have a resource page where you can find information and support about everything from crisis resources to legal assistance to housing insecurity, with a focus on LGBTQ+ people.
I’ve slept with most of my friends. I mean that literally — I’ve shared a bed and cuddled with nearly all of them. I know who likes to be a little spoon and who prefers to be a big spoon; I also know how loud each of them snores. On top of that, I’ve made out with a good chunk of them, given oil massages to some and had full-on sex with others. To me and many other queer people, this shit is normal. Physical, sometimes erotic, touch, is an integral part of many of our friendships. From what I gather, sexual friendships still pretty uncommon outside of the LGBTQ community — what’s this all about?
To be fair, for straight identifying people, there’s an entire culture built around an obsession with sex and what it means to have it. Non-queers seem terrified of being “friend-zoned,” which is lackluster way of saying that someone they think owes them sex doesn’t want to sleep with them. I want to avoid broadly generalizing — especially since gay men are stereotyped as sex-crazed and outlandishly promiscuous — but these constructs that I describe are very real. When my straight friends have sex with each other, I am always sure of one thing: They either feel like they have to end the friendship or they decide to get into a long-term monogamous situation. But what if neither of those options serve them?
Whenever I see these friends face this dilemma, I want to scream into the void. It doesn’t need to be this way. By thinking that they need to choose between cutting off a friendship or ascribing more meaning to it purely because there’s sex involved, they’re robbing themselves of all the glorious nuance that can exist in a physically intimate friendship.
I’m just going to say it: Queer people are better at navigating sexual grey areas. Could non-queers learn a thing or two about friendship from us? I asked some experts to help me dole out some sage advice on fostering a sexual friendship without all the drama. Here are a couple of things to keep in mind.
Sex doesn’t have to be the defining factor of your relationships
Mainstream American culture has taught us that physical intimacy outside of our family has to be sexual. Something as simple as kissing a friend will get most Americans flustered, where in many cultures around the world, kissing on the cheek or even holding hands is devoid of sexual meaning. Not here, where we draw the line at chest bumps and where “no homo” became the mantra of a generation.
Queer Americans, broadly speaking, have been able to free ourselves of those constraints. “The queer community formed as a community precisely because they were prohibited from touching each other. They came together to touch each other,” Thomas Roach, a professor of philosophy and cultural studies at Bryant University and author of “Friendship as a Way of Life,” tells me. In the U.S., queerness was criminalized for a long time and many queer people still experience rejection from their families.
For that reason, friendships became a primary source of physical touch as well as a means of survival. Sex still matters, obviously, but it’s peripheral to the strong emotional bonds we have to forge with others in our community. “One salient aspect of queer friendship is that sex is not necessarily the fulcrum around which a relationship turns. Sex is not necessarily the make or break of a queer friendship, nor is it the great definitional divider of friend versus lover,” Roach tells me. “Friendship is formless, amoeba-like, and can be invented from A to Z. Unlike romantic relationships and marriage — which are overburdened with cis-hetero courtship rituals and scripts — friendship is ours to create. And queers have been incredibly innovative in this regard!”
When we let go of the idea that friendships are inferior to romantic and monogamous relationships, we can start to expand the possibilities of what we want our friendships to look like. Sometimes, that can involve sex.
I found a great amount of truth in Roach’s observations: My most intimate and freeing relationships are with queer friends and the same time, none of them are strictly defined by sex (or the lack thereof). If I do have sex with a friend, it’s almost a way of showing them how much I love them as a friend. I realize that this is completely counterintuitive to how most heterosexual people are taught to navigate the world, but in the absence of scripts, my most authentic emotions have been able to thrive.
Strong friendships come from a shared understanding of the world
Roach also points out that recent history has proven the importance of queer friendships. From Stonewall, to the AIDS crisis to the Pulse nightclub shooting, queer people are constantly reminded that we are not beloved by all. This feeling of shared estrangement creates a foundation for deeper connection and might explain another phenomenon among us: we are generally much better at staying friends with our exes. That’s because we’re also more likely to have shared identity-affirming experiences outside of the romantic relationship itself — maybe our former partner took us to our first gay club or they taught us how to have safer sex.
The future of friendships looks pretty queer
Thinking about the intimacy of queer friendships also got me thinking about the future of friendships in general. As queerness becomes less stigmatized and the need for LGBTQ-specific spaces disappear, will queer friendships lose thier spark and start to resemble heterosexual ones? Will we even have anything to bond over down the line, once we have all our rights?
Maybe, or maybe not. But I doubt that we’ll have to grapple with this question in our lifetime. “As much as queerness has become more mainstream, there is so much anti-trans legislation circulating at this moment in time,” Ariella Serur, a queer dating coach, tells me. “There is still an epidemic of violence against trans folks, particularly trans women of color, so non-stigmatization still feels far away for the LGBTQIA+ community as a whole.” She’s right.
As long as there are attacks against anyone in our community, friendship is likely to remain the foundation of our culture. Instead of thinking about the heterosexualiztion of queer friendships, a more likely outcome, I hope, is that there will be a queering of heterosexual friendships. A staggering 15% of Gen-Z identifies as LGBTQ, more than any generation before it. I can’t help but feel that more people are realizing the limitations of a label as reductive as “straight” and looking for a way out.
Queerness frees us up to express ourselves in infinite ways. It also allows us to see physical touch as a means, rather than an end. “If there’s anything to celebrate about the modern LGBTQ community, and if queer culture has anything significant to contribute to the long history of intimacy rites and rituals, it’s an inventive ethics of queer intimacy,” Roach tells me. “It’s an ethic that can yield great pleasure and deep love.”
New research shows having a greater number of older brothers increases the probability of a person entering a same-sex union at some point in their lives.
This finding, detailed in our paper published today in the Journal of Sex Research, offers a rare insight into the origins of sexual orientation.
The origins of sexual orientation
In recent decades, many countries have achieved remarkable progress towards equal treatment of LGBTIQ+ people, including greater public support and more protective legislation. But despite these encouraging developments, sexual minorities still experience high levels of stigma – and the origins of sexual orientation remain a matter of debate.
A growing body of research is attempting to shed light on why some people experience same-sex sexual attraction and others don’t. These studies have substantial implications for public opinion and debate, and subsequently the treatment of LGBTIQ+ people.
For example, we know people who view sexual orientation as a product of biological factors (such as hormones or genetics) are more likely to support sexual minorities and their civil rights, compared to those who view it as a product of social factors or individual choice.
The fraternal birth order effect
The “fraternal birth order effect” is one of the most well-documented patterns supporting a biological origin of human sexual orientation. This longstanding hypothesis proposes men’s propensity for homosexuality increases with the number of older biological brothers they have.
This effect has been attributed to a mother’s immune reaction to proteins produced by a male foetus. The proteins enter the mother’s bloodstream and trigger the production of antibodies that influence the sexual development of subsequent children.
These maternal antibodies accumulate over successive pregnancies with male foetuses, which means men with more older brothers are more likely to experience same-sex sexual attraction.
However, previous research documenting the fraternal birth order effect has relied on small and selective participant samples, which has led some scholars to question the authenticity of the phenomenon. Indeed, no study of a representative population sample has supported its existence – until now.
Our research
Our research used unique data from Dutch population registers. These data allowed us to follow the life trajectories of more than nine million people born between 1940 and 1990.
While the data did not contain direct measures of individuals’ sexual orientation, they did indicate whether they ever entered a same-sex marriage or registered partnership. We used this information as a proxy for homosexuality.
In the Netherlands, registered same-sex partnerships have been recognised since 1998, and same-sex marriage since 2001.
What we found
Our results show clear evidence of a fraternal birth order effect on homosexuality. Specifically, men with one older brother are 12% more likely to enter a same-sex union than men with one older sister, and 21% more likely than men with just one younger brother or sister.
The birth order and total number of siblings matter too. Men who are the youngest sibling are more likely to enter a same-sex union than men who are the oldest sibling, and the differences grow larger as the total number of siblings increases.
For example, the probability of a man entering a same-sex union is 41% greater if he has three older brothers, as opposed to three older sisters, and 80% greater than if he has three younger brothers.
The chart below illustrates some of our findings, showing the number of men who entered same-sex unions among those with up to three siblings. The sex of older siblings wields a considerable influence over same-sex union formation. On the other hand, the sex of younger siblings plays little to no role.
Data cover men born in the Netherlands between 1940 and 1990. The underlying statistical model accounts for birth year differences. This rules out the possibility that our results are due to age differences between the groups. Whiskers denote 95% confidence intervals.
Unlike earlier studies which focused almost exclusively on men, we documented the same pattern of results among women. We found women are also more likely to enter a same-sex union if they have older brothers.
This finding yields tentative support to arguments that maternal antibodies and foetal proteins also interact to influence womens’ sexual development.
What does it all mean?
Our results tell a clear and consistent story: the number and sex of one’s siblings play an important role in the development of their sexuality.
This evidence aligns squarely with perspectives that emphasise sexual orientation as an innate trait and a reflection of a person’s true self, rather than a product of “lifestylechoices” or a “fashion trend” as some suggest.
Of course, in an ideal society, the rights and respect people are afforded should not depend on whether their sexual identity is “innate” or “a choice”. But unfortunately, these issues still loom large in contemporary debate, further highlighting the importance of our findings.
A biological basis for human sexuality suggests harmful practices like conversion therapy can’t alter someone’s sexual orientation. It also discredits claims homosexuality can be “taught” (such as through sexual diversity education at schools) or “passed on” (such as through same-sex couples adopting children).
We acknowledge the diverging opinions on the value of research concerning the origins of human sexuality. Some feel such research is irrelevant because the findings should have no bearing on public attitudes or legislation, while others reject it for more hostile reasons.
Like others before us, we consider this research essential. Understanding the mechanisms behind sexual orientation can offer insights into what makes people who they are, and helps normalise the full spectrum of human sexual diversity.
— And what every queer person needs to know about it
Two Barry sisters read review of the Alfred Kinsey Report on Women over the shoulder of Beverly Lawrence
If you’re like most people, you’ve probably heard the phrase “sexuality is a spectrum”. In a way, we have Dr Alfred Kinsey to thank for that.
By Matthias Walsh
In 1948, American biologist Dr Kinsey and associates Wardell Pomeroy and Clyde Martin developed the Kinsey Scale. Also known as the Heterosexual-Homosexual Rating Scale, the seven-point scale was created to represent the team’s findings from years of research – that human sexuality was not as black and white as it was originally thought to be.
Kinsey’s highly controversial work ushered in a new era of studies on sexuality, thus earning him the title of “father of sexology”. But over 70 years later, does Kinsey’s work still hold up? Is the Kinsey scale still a reliable representation of the spectrum of sexual orientation? Or has it become a relic of the past?
Who was Dr Kinsey?
Dr Alfred Charles Kinsey was an American biologist and professor at Indiana University. Prior to his work on human sexual behaviour, Kinsey spent 20 years as an entomologist, collecting and identifying dozens of species of gall wasps.
It wasn’t until the early 1930s that Kinsey became interested in the study of sexuality. At this point, he began teaching sexual education classes to graduate, senior, and married students, where he would also hand out questionnaires for his research on sexual histories.
By 1947, Kinsey established the Institute for Sex Research (now known as the Kinsey Institute). Armed with financial support from the Rockefeller Foundation, Kinsey and his team pored over hundreds and thousands of sex histories to study sexual relationships and sexual behaviour in the human world.
Dr. Alfred C. Kinsey (white shirt) working with his staff on the final phases of his book, Sexual Behavior in the Human Behavior (Getty)
What is the Kinsey Scale?
The Kinsey Scale is a visual representation of the research findings that Kinsey and company published in Sexual Behaviour in the Human Male (1948). Together with Sexual Behavior of the Human Female (1953), the two books became collectively known as the Kinsey Reports. Considered some of the most influential scientific books of the century, the Kinsey Reports sold almost 1 million copies and were translated to 13 languages.
According to Discover Magazine, Kinsey’s research found that 37 per cent of men had been in a same-sex experience by the age of 45, while 13 per cent of women had had a same-sex encounter. As explained by the Kinsey Institute, the reports showed that “sexual behaviour, thoughts, and feelings towards the same or opposite sex were not always consistent across time”.
As such, the Kinsey Scale broke free from what was the traditional categorisation of sexual orientation at the time – heterosexual, bisexual, and homosexual – and instead presented the following broader seven-point rating system:
0 – Exclusively heterosexual
1 – Predominantly heterosexual, only incidentally homosexual
2 – Predominantly heterosexual, but more than incidentally homosexual
3 – Equally heterosexual and homosexual
4 – Predominantly homosexual, but more than incidentally heterosexual
5 – Predominantly homosexual, only incidentally heterosexual
6 – Exclusively homosexual
X – No socio-sexual contacts or reactions
“The world is not to be divided into sheep and goats”, wrote Kinsey in the report. “Not all things are black nor all things white…only the human mind invents categories to force facts into separate pigeonholes. The living world is a continuum in each and every one of its aspects. The sooner we learn this concerning sexual behaviour the sooner we shall reach a sound understanding of the realities of sex”.
In short, Kinsey believed that sexual orientation was not as rigid as most people believed at the time. Instead, he saw that many people exhibited all types of sexual behaviour, even if it contradicted the labels with which they identified. As such, Kinsey sought to normalise the idea that sexual orientation is more akin to a spectrum than a strict binary.
Understandably, upon its release, Kinsey’s research was met with a lot of controversy. For many, Kinsey’s insistence that humans could be more than either gay or straight was an affront to everything they knew about themselves. It also meant that once you exhibited some type of homosexual behaviour – even if you didn’t identify as a homosexual or experienced same-sex attraction – then you could find yourself in some very hot water.
You have to remember that, at the time, homosexuality was considered illegal in most parts of the world, including the US and the UK. In fact, the main reference book in psychiatry, the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual (DSM), didn’t remove homosexuality from its list of diagnoses until the early 70s.
An unidentified couple sit on the grass during the New York City Pride March, New York, New York, 1980s or 1990s. (Photo by Mariette Pathy Allen/Getty Images)
Is the Kinsey Scale test accurate?
So there is no such thing as a Kinsey Scale “test” or a Kinsey Scale “quiz”, per se. While it was once used to measure the balance of heterosexuality and homosexuality in a person relative to their history of sexual attraction and experience, it isn’t really used as a diagnostic tool anymore. Instead, think of it more as a representation of the sexual fluidity of human beings!
But if you really wanted to, technically speaking, you can study the scale and decide on your position on it.
Is the Kinsey Scale still relevant today?
The short answer: yes and no.
Kinsey and his associates moved the needle in terms of how a person’s sexual orientation is studied and understood. However, that doesn’t make their work infallible, especially when compared to what we know today.
Here’s how the scale misses the mark:
The scale fails to represent asexuals
On the Kinsey Scale, asexuals are lumped under the “X” rating, which is defined as people who have had “no socio-sexual contacts or reactions”. However, for many asexuals, this is simply not an accurate representation.
Asexuality is defined as the lack of sexual attraction to others. For many, asexuality is a sexual identity in the same way as being gay, lesbian, or bisexual are. It’s also considered an umbrella under which various forms of asexuality exist, from demisexuality (people who only feel sexually attracted to those they form emotional bonds with) to akoisexual (people who experience attraction but do not wish to have those feelings reciprocated).
The scale conflates sexual attraction and sexual activity, while leaving out sexual identity
Kinsey’s research focused mostly on the sexual behaviours that his interviewees acted upon. What he and his associates failed to consider was that sexual behaviour is not the same as sexual attraction. On top of this, one’s sexual feelings and behaviours do not necessarily reflect how one would identify.
The scale implies that attraction to one sex cancels out attraction to another
This is something that a lot of bisexual people have gripes with. The Kinsey Scale implies that the more attraction you have towards one gender, the less you have towards another. While behaviour can be measured (as in, you can count the number of sexual experiences a person has had), attraction is much harder to quantify.
This implication is especially frustrating for bisexual people who often feel invalidated by both gay and straight people. Many bisexuals feel that if their attraction is not a 50-50 split between the same and the opposite sex, that their bisexuality is somewhat invalid.
But take for example a bisexual woman who is attracted to both men and women but has only dated men exclusively. If you follow the scale, that woman is a “0 – exclusively heterosexual”, despite the fact that she feels sexual attraction to other women.
People marching with anBi, a bisexual organisation, carry a bisexual flag in the 43rd L.A. Pride Parade in West Hollywood, California. (Getty)
Is there another sexuality scale aside from the Kinsey Scale test?
If you’re looking for a more nuanced model for identifying your sexual orientation, consider the Klein Sexual Orientation Grid and the Storms Scale. There are other scales out there – around 200 or so, in fact – but these two are by far the most popular.
The Klein Sexual Orientation Grid was first introduced in 1978 by psychiatrist and sex researcher Dr Fritz Klein. Appearing in his book The Bisexual Option, the Klein Grid was created as a learning tool to give people a more holistic understanding of the complexity of human sexuality. The Grid is made up of seven variables and three situations – past, present, and ideal.
The Storms Scale, on the other hand, was developed by psychologist Michael Storms in the early 80s. The scale focuses more on eroticism rather than sexual behaviour.
Does the Kinsey Scale still matter?
The Kinsey Scale was once a groundbreaking model of human sexuality at a time when the very idea of sexual orientation as anything but a binary was considered taboo. As such, it’s relevant in that it’s a seminal work in the field of sexology.
It’s also important to note that, for some people, having some kind of label or system of identification helps those who are questioning to better understand who they are and to find their “tribe”. In this way, the scale can still be a useful tool for those who are still exploring their sexuality.
Efforts from scientists trying to identify “gay genes” are part of a longstanding, problematic tradition of research focused on how minority groups are genetically different.
To many of us, the attractions of gay sex are pretty obvious. But some scientists continue to wonder why people do it. If gay sex isn’t reproductive, why hasn’t natural selection weeded out all the queers? Why, after all this evolutionary time, isn’t everybody straight?
Increasingly, people think that sexuality is biologically innate. Sexual preferences shouldn’t be changed and they can’t be, simple as that. Per the famous Gaga refrain, we are “born this way.” Indeed, scientists may have helped to promote these beliefs. Some say not only that genes largely decide your sexuality, but also that genes help to explain why gay people exist at all.
Case in point: A recent paper published in Nature Human Behavior looked to see whether genes associated with having gay sex are also associated with having more reproductive sex. Specifically, its scientists were curious whether ‘gay genes’ in straight people could help straight people to have sex with more partners. They found that they do, as the genetic markers found in gay people were also found in those who see themselves as open to new experiences and risk-takers. In a nutshell, gay genes may exist because they help straight people get over their inhibitions and get laid more. This might explain why evolution hasn’t gotten round to pruning away the gays yet.
At this point, you might be laughing like us. But on a serious note, this study isn’t a one-off for this research team. In 2019, the same team published a study in Science about genes associated with ever having had gay sex. The study was highly publicized, receiving coverage from Nature, NYTimes, NPR and Slate. Outlets, quoting the study’s authors, proclaimed it to sound the death knell of the ‘gay gene.’
Far from doing that, the study shifted from searching for a single gay gene to looking for many gay genes. Like the recent Nature Human Behavior study, the 2019 Science study was a ‘genome-wide association study’ (GWAS). Using fancy statistics, the latest technologies, and a massive data set involving half a million people, the 2019 study concluded that there are five genes significantly associated with ever having had gay sex, and that the cumulative effects of thousands of genes might help to explain differences in sexual behavior. In other words, while the ‘gay gene’ might be dead, long live the ‘gay genome.’
Genetic research on sexuality and other complex behavior traits is growing fast. Some LGBTQ+ advocates claim it shows that being gay is “natural” and “not a choice,” and that the proliferation of sexual genetic research is something to straightforwardly celebrate.
However, we think the implications of this research are far more complicated. While both the Nature Human Behavior and Science studies were conducted by LGBTQ+ scientists with good intentions, they join a longstanding and problematic tradition of research focused on showing how minority groups are genetically different.
A celebration in San Francisco after the Supreme Court decided same-sex couples were entitled to federal benefits in June 2013.
Genetic research on homosexuality began in earnest in the 1990s. Scientists claimed that genes on the X chromosomes are associated with male homosexuality. Long before then, ‘eugenics,’ or social movements to control human reproduction in order to increase the “fitness” of national populations, played a role in the oppression of gay people. Eugenics research reached its peak in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, leading to the forced sterilization and genocide of not only queer people, but also Jewish and disabled peoples in Nazi Germany, and largely Black, brown and immigrant peoples in the U.S. Even after the second world war, eugenic policies and movements continued to haunt LGBTQ+ communities.
Today, most research agrees that a person’s sexuality is formed through a combination of social, biological and environmental factors. Yet many across the political spectrum continue to describe sexual preferences as biologically innate and fixed at birth. Some researchers suggest that those who believe sexual preferences are inborn tend to have more tolerant attitudes towards gay men and lesbians.
Others argue that “born this way” doesn’t actually increase people’s tolerance of sexual minorities. Instead, it is used to rationalize whatever beliefs people already have about sexuality, whether conservative or liberal. On one hand, it has helped to defend beliefs that queer people are less biologically fit, and therefore appropriate targets for reproductive control. On the other hand, “born this way” arguments have lent considerable support to LGBTQ+ advocacy. Campaigns to legally ban conversion therapy, a form of medical abuse that seeks to change someone’s sexual orientation, have successfully used “born this way” rhetoric to strengthen their cases.
In any event, increasing ‘tolerance’ towards queer people isn’t the goal. Instead of being tolerated, queer people should be fully accepted, embraced and celebrated. Feminist scholar Suzanna Walters reminds us that attitudes of tolerance towards sexual minorities may do more harm than good by implicitly othering them. It is telling that while there has long been a search for a gay gene, “no one is looking for a straight gene.” Scientists feel no need to explain the existence of straight people because it is assumed that straight people belong. By contrast, sexual minorities need an evolutionary rationale in order to belong.
Political scientist Joanna Wuest also notes that despite helping to ban conversion therapy, “born this way” arguments sometimes conflict with queer people’s own experiences. Many radical queers consider their sexual identity to be a choice entwined with their politics. Meanwhile, those with fluid identities and those who’ve questioned their sexuality for a long time have a hard time identifying with a picture of sexuality as stable, fixed, and innate. As political scientist Nina Hagel writes, “born this way” may uphold “untenable ideals of self-knowledge.” It may force people to get trapped on a side or pick a side before they are ready to.
Scientists feel no need to explain the existence of straight people because it is assumed that straight people belong. By contrast, sexual minorities need an evolutionary rationale in order to belong.
Soon after the publication of the 2019 Science study, an app claiming to be based on the study was developed that offered a “How Gay Are You?” genetic test through the online genetic prediction platform GenePlaza. We already see technology being developed that allows parents to pick embryos based on the embryos’ genomes and associated health risks. It is therefore not a far stretch of the imagination to also worry that genetic research on sexuality could eventually be used to develop tools to screen for and eliminate ‘gay embryos.’
We’re not saying that scientists should avoid researching sexuality. Many of us are understandably curious about where our desires come from, and science can help us to better understand each other as long as their research meets high standards. We are saying there’s no guarantee that today’s search for a gay genome will support queer liberation. Believing sexuality to be biologically innate might lead some to see LGBTQ+ people as biologically unfit. It’s difficult to know, as the political consequences of science are often complexly dependent on historical context. But for every person who uses “born this way” to win legal battles for gay rights, we know there is someone else who uses it to paint gay people as bad seeds of the human race.
Queer people should not uncritically celebrate research that gives new life to “born this way” arguments. Genetic research on sexuality is still in progress (and at this stage, a little laughable). Regardless, even if there is strong evidence we have yet to see, the idea that being gay is natural doesn’t guarantee the procurement of gay rights. It’s high time we moved the fight for LGBTQ+ recognition and survival away from the ‘nature versus nurture’ debate and into new directions. Millennials may have worshipped Lady Gaga, but many of us are ready to chant a new slogan.
When Hugh Nini and Neal Treadwell stumbled across a photo from the 1920s of two men in a tender embrace they thought it was one-of-a-kind. But things changed when they found more photographs. The result of their unexpected discovery is a moving book, portraying male romance over the course of a century.
I’m not gonna lie to y’all. I’ve written a lot over the years, but, for the most part, I’ve avoided talking about The Big Stuff.
By that, I mean how I grew up, what my relationship with my family was (is?) like, how I came to *be*, and what the hell I’m doing with my life at present.
(No, surface-level sh*tposts on Twitter don’t count. Thank you, TweetDelete for saving my future self from my past and present self’s angst. Best $15 I ever spent.)
There are a lot of reasons for this. But, for me, what it all boils down to is the fear of what my mother would do.
But you know what? It doesn’t matter anymore.
I haven’t lived at home in over a decade. The worst thing that could happen to me — that I would be unable to speak to or be there for my younger sister — is no longer a credible outcome, at least not as the result of parental involvement.
Planting the seeds of sexual shame
The thing is, I’m not straight. I don’t remember a lot about my childhood, but I know that I never really “came out.” Not to myself, not to my friends, certainly not to my family — though I suppose this letter is likely doing just that.
It was just a thing that I noticed about myself and that was that. I liked boys, I guess. But I also liked girls, people who didn’t feel like those words described themselves, and people who never really thought about their gender at all.
My developing brain didn’t see why this was an issue, just that it was something that might drive my mother to make good on her threats to send me to a program for “troubled teens.”
That’s because, somewhere along the way, many years before I realized this about myself, my mother had already decided that I was gay.
I honestly don’t even remember what the first thing that set her off was. For all I know, it could’ve been that, when I was 8, I wanted her to cut my thick, dark brown, butt-length hair into something more reasonable for Mississippi’s scorching summer heat.
After all, your sexuality is determined by the style of your hair, and anything above the shoulders means you’re a lesbian, right?
Whatever the case, once she got it into her head that I might be something other than a cisgender God-fearing Christian woman who would one day marry a straight, cisgender man and do whatever it is straight Christian couples do, she never let it go.
Routine outbursts reminding me that I was going to Hell were the norm. Sleepovers with friends that were girls were forbidden, and, later, the possibility of her snagging my prepaid phone to go through my text messages loomed overhead like a never-ending dark cloud.
I even stopped journaling, because I knew that, no matter where I hid it, she would read it, “find something,” and send me outside to pick out a switch from the tree.
Who you are vs. who others want you to be
There wasn’t any room for me to be myself — or explore whatever version of me I was trying to parse through at the time.
And, because there wasn’t any space for me, there wasn’t any space for anyone who I cared about to fully exist in my orbit.
If I wanted to hang out with certain friends, I had to lie about who they were, how I knew them, and anything else that might reveal that their identity and personality fell outside the invisible spectrum of “acceptability” that my mother clung to.
I knew I could never bring some friends to my house, or around my family, because of how they would be treated.
Even though I knew I didn’t agree with what my mother thought, that her idea of what was right and what was wrong wasn’t rooted in good faith, hearing it day in and day out took a toll.
The slightest overstep — be it as simple as asking to check out the “Pretty Little Liars” series at the library — and I would be exiled to my grandmother’s computer room to watch online bible studies for hours on end.
The message? What I liked was immoral, the people I wanted to hang out with were unholy, and I needed to be better or else I’d risk eternal damnation.
Sexual repression and self-destruction
Trying and failing to conform to what was expected of me erupted in a number of ways. The balancing act of Christian guilt and perpetual self-loathing landed me in a locked bathroom with a single-edge razor blade and left a range of barcodes permanently etched into my skin.
As the years cycled through, razors turned into switchblades, switchblades turned into an eating disorder, and my troubles with food turned into troubles with substance use — all while throwing myself into schoolwork and extracurricular activities.
Disassociation was the name of the game, and whatever could keep me there the longest was a plus in my book.
All I wanted was to get out, but I didn’t think I could make it past 18. Between what I dealt with at home, and what I inflicted on myself outside, it was a toss up of which would kill me first.
I won’t justify my mother’s behavior or her beliefs, but I can’t pretend that she didn’t have her reasons. Trauma begets trauma, and generational trauma is the gift that keeps on giving.
Yet I’m still here. I moved out of state after high school and somehow managed to scam my way into an undergraduate degree that I’ll never pay off.
I made it to the West Coast, where I’m getting by in a city that I can’t afford to breathe in. I found a home in my friends and learned how to lean on them.
And I’m finally ready to stop picking and choosing which fundamental parts of myself I share online and IRL.
Self-advocacy as the key to sexual pleasure
That’s what this year’s Sexual Health Awareness Month is all about: standing in your truth and taking ownership of your identity.
Longtime Healthline writer Gabrielle Kassel kicks things off with a deep dive into “second queer adolescence,” which is the idea that queer people live their “teenage years” twice.
Check back here on September 7 to learn more about what a second queer adolescence can look like, the potential highs and lows, and how to embrace your personal timeline — no matter your age or the timelines of those around you.
Want to start reading now? Check out Gabrielle’s take on what it means to be “queer enough” to claim your identity.
On September 13, we welcome retired professional dominatrix Reb Holmberg to the site to talk about how BDSM can make pleasure accessible to people of differing ages, abilities, body shapes, and social skills.
Over a 30-year career, they created thousands of experiences that have enabled clients, friends, and lovers to feel liberated from old age, immobility, body size, and gender dysphoria. And luckily for us, they’re going to explain how we can find the same joy.
Catasha Harris, a Black sexual empowerment coach, finishes out the month with her September 20 debut.
Here, she explains in-depth why Black women have never really been given the opportunity to sexually explore — and why this sexual awakening is so important at this specific moment in time.
Want to start reading now? Check out this article, an impassioned plea from Gloria Oladipo to stop begging Black women to save you from the consequence of your own actions.
Something else on your mind? Our sex and relationships hub covers everything from cuffing during a pandemic and safer chest binding to having an orgasm after menopause, tips for being a better lover, and more.
Maybe you recently decided to gift your social feeds the presence of LGBTQ+ activists and influencers. Or maybe you’re doing your part to be an informed LGBTQ+ ally. Whatever the reason — and no matter your sexuality or gender — odds are you’ve stumbled onto certain words that make you feel like you need a goddamn gender and sexuality Ph.D. to understand. And one of those words is heteronormativity.
That’s why we put together this Heteronormativity 101 explainer. Read on to learn the official definition of heteronormativity, as well as where it came from, and how it (negatively) impacts the day-to-day lives of so many people.
Heteronormativity, Defined
At its most distilled, heteronormativity is the pervasive assumption that every single person is heterosexual, cisgender, and allosexual, unless otherwise stated.
Heterosexual: The term for those who are attracted to people with gender that is different from their own.
Cisgender: The term used when a person’s gender aligns with their sex assigned at birth. For instance, a person assigned female at birth who is a woman.
Allosexual: Allosexuality names the experience of enjoying regular sexual attraction toward others. It’s the opposite of asexuality, which means someone experiences little to know sexual attraction.
“[Heteronormativity] names the belief that being straight and cisgender [and allosexual] are the only normal and natural expressions of sexuality and gender,” and that everything else is deviant, explains Jesse Kahn, L.C.S.W., C.S.T., director and sex therapist at The Gender & Sexuality Therapy Center in NYC.
Queer theorists Michael Warner and Lauren Berlant coined the term in 1988 in their iconic queer theory text, Sex In Public, to put a name to the ways this assumption privileges people who actually are straight (and cisgender and allosexual) while disenfranchising anyone who is not. “By heteronormativity, we mean the institutions, structures of understanding, and practical orientations that make heterosexuality seem not only coherent…but privileged,” they wrote. “Its privilege can take several (sometimes contradictory) forms.” More on those forms below.
What Heteronormativity Looks Like In Action
Heteronormativity is inescapable. It’s folded into everything from who’s cast as the love interests in romantic comedies to the fact that people are still having gender reveal parties and the belief that you can discern someone’s gender and pronouns just by looking at them (you can’t!). It also fuels assumptions such as the idea that bisexuality is a phase and the expectation that someone is dating someone of a different gender from their own when they say they have a partner.
It regulates who dates who, who screws who, how people express their gender, how people dress, and how they express their sexuality, says queer sex educator and sex science researcher Eva Bloom, creator of the F*ck the Patriarchy, F*ck Yourself self-pleasure course for non-men. And through the baked-in assumption that there are just two genders (man and women), “it also erases non-binary people, transgender people, and any other gender-expansive people,” they say. It also inherently relies on the idea that biological sex is binary — meaning that someone is born either male or female — which is scientifically untrue, and thus erases the existence of intersex people, adds Bloom.
Where Did Heteronormativity Originate?
Humans have been having sex with people all across the gender spectrum forever, says Bloom. But Western society didn’t begin associating identity labels with certain sex acts until the 1920s and 1930s, when the terms “heterosexual” and “homosexual” — which were previously used as medical markers for “excessive” attraction to the opposite or same sex, respectively — underwent a linguistic makeover, according to OutHistory.org, an LGBTQ+ history website created by Jonathan Ned Katz, author of Gay American History: Lesbians and Gay Men in the U.S.A. The terms made their debut in the Merriam-Webster dictionary in 1923 with definitions in line with their medical roots, but in 1934, both terms got an update. “Homosexuality is the eroticism for one of the same sex,” read one of the entries. “Heterosexuality is a manifestation of sexual passion for one of the opposite sex; normal sexuality,” read the second. And with these, came the attachment of normalcy to heterosexuality and abnormalcy to homosexuality.
“Before that, any differentiation between good sex and wrong sex lied in the difference between procreative sex and non-procreative sex, where all different types of non-procreative sex (masturbation, same-sex sex, cisgender heterosexual sex for the sake of pleasure, etc.) were all deemed as being equally wrong,” explains Bloom. You can thank religion for that mentality, aka purity culture.
So, while the hetero/homo binary — and therefore heterosexism — may seem like an indestructible constant, it’s actually a nasty side effect of a dictionary entry. (For a full breakdown on the history of “heterosexuality,” check out the BBC article The Invention of Heterosexuality by Brandon Ambrosino.)
The Harmfulness of Heteronormativity Cannot Be Overstated
The material, physical, mental, and emotional consequences that LGBTQ+ individuals face at the hands of heteronormativity are very real. In an explicit and implicit way, “heteronormativity says anyone who is not heterosexual and/or cisgender and/or allosexual is strange, abnormal, deviant, and unnatural,” explains Kahn. This opens up opportunities for LGBTQ+ people to be discriminated against, rejected, and enacted violence on, he says.
“The stats about the violence, rejection, and discrimination that LGBTQ people face match this experience,” he says. One 2020 report by the Williams Institute at the UCLA School of Law shows that, overall, LGBTQ+ people are nearly four times more likely than non-LGBTQ+ to be victims of violent crimes, including aggravated assault, sexual assault, rape, and violent victimization. The pervasiveness of these occurrences, which disproportionately target trans women of color, create a dynamic in which LGBTQ+ people need to be hypervigilant of any potential harms, sending their central nervous systems into a near-constant state of fight-or-flight in the process, and exacerbating symptoms of anxiety. That’s just one potential reason why lesbian, gay, and bisexual adults are more than twice as likely as heterosexual adults to experience a mental health condition, according to the National Alliance On Mental Illness; meanwhile, transgender individuals are nearly four times as likely as cisgender individuals to experience a mental health condition.
These injustices don’t even take a break in the workplace or doctors offices: 25 percent of LGBTQ+ people report workplace discrimination, according to the National LGBTQ Workers Center, while 56 percent of LGB individuals and 70 percent of transgender individuals report being been discriminated against at some point in their life in medical settings. The result of these discriminations ranges from lack of job security and financial stability to worsened health outcomes. (See More: Transgender Healthcare Discrimination Is a Huge Problem You Need to Know About)
Wait, So What Is Homonormativity?
If you’ve heard the term “heteronormativity,” you may have also heard the term “homonormativity,” and while the two terms many sound similar, they operate very differently. Put simply, homonormativity names the phenomenon of LGBTQ+ individuals shaping their relationships to mirror the family structures, dress codes, and gender roles modeled by cisgender heterosexual folks. Not a harmless game of copy-cat, however, homonormativity distracts from actual queer liberation, which involves fighting for the rights of the most disenfranchised people, namely Black trans femmes. Many people say homonormativity is the reason, for example, that same-sex marriage was a legal priority for the LGBTQ+ activists rather than anti-discrimination laws. (Related: I’m Black, Queer, and Polyamorous — Why Does That Matter to My Doctors?)
Here’s the thing: Homonormativity is an important phenomenon for LGBTQ+ people to be aware of in order to hold themselves accountable for their most disenfranchised community members. But as Michael Warner and Lauren Berlant made note of in Sex In Public, “because homosexuality can never have the invisible, tactic, society-founding rightness that heterosexuality has, it [is not] possible to speak of homonormativity in the same sense [that we talk about heteronormativity].” In other words, while the consequences of homonormativity are, indeed, very real, heteronormativity is the first line of action.
How to Destabilize Heteronormativity
To be clear, the idea that heteronormativity can be dismantled by individuals making small gestures in their individual lives is actually heteronormativity in action. Heteronormativity is built into the systems that shape our lives. So, actually overthrowing heteronormativity requires a total re-working of life as we know it, and includes things like the disintegration of the prison industrial complex, the implementation of universal health care, and the dis-entanglement of rights from marital status. The idea that a single person can unpack heteronormativity is similar to the idea that combating global warming is as simple as individuals using paper straws.
That said, kudos to you for wanting to dismantle heteronormativity in order to help make the lives of gender and sexual minorities more livable and joy-filled. Because, yes, there are absolutely steps you can take in your life to create a more equitable world.
The first is to become aware of the existence of heteronormativity, which by reading this you have already conquered. The next is to use this new awareness to interrogate your own thoughts, prejudices, and assumptions around sex, sexuality, and gender, as well as how those prejudices shape the world around you, according to The Rainbow Resource Centre, a non-profit that serves the LGBTQ+ community in Ontario, Canada.
Some questions to ask yourself:
What beliefs have I been taught about gender that have informed my ideas about what qualifies as “good” and “bad” womanhood and manhood?
What assumptions do I make about the sexual health status, sexual tastes, sexual frequency, number of partners, and tastes do I make about people who I know are not straight?
Ideally, you’ll be able to use the answers to the above questions to make impactful changes. At the very least, says Kahn, “these changes should include shifting away from heteronormativity include offering pronouns, using gender-neutral language (such as for partners and spouses), learning about and from LGBTQ+ people and experiences, and unlearning microaggressive language (like “preferred” pronouns, “real” name, and “regular” or “normal” as synonyms for heterosexual or cisgender).” (Next read: Tools to Help You Uncover Implicit Bias)
There are a number of different types of sexuality, and by learning about each, you can cultivate a better understanding about yourself and others. And since language is always evolving, staying abreast of the different types of sexuality is important for both creating an authentic relationship with yourself and being an inclusive ally for all people. “The constantly evolving lexicon provides more options that can help people explore themselves,” says Corey Flanders, PhD, sexual-health disparities researcher and associate professor of psychology and education at Mount Holyoke College. “The range of sexuality terms available means that more people will find something that resonates with their experience.”
Words matter, and when those words connect to nuanced forms of identity, they matter even more. Such is the case for why it’s so important for all people to understand the different types of sexuality. To contextualize it differently, consider Dr. Flanders’ following example about ice cream: “I had a teacher once who described it in terms of ice cream flavors,” she says. “What if your favorite ice cream flavor was kale, but you never knew that about yourself because it was never an option? And then one day, maybe you come across kale ice cream and love it, and now understand yourself as a person whose favorite ice cream is kale-flavored.”
“Sexuality is full of diversity, and awareness of different types helps build acceptance and understanding of these differences.” —Shannon Chavez, PsyD, sexologist
The implications of understanding the different types of sexuality are, of course, further reaching and more important than ice cream flavors. “Sexuality is full of diversity, and awareness of different types helps build acceptance and understanding of these differences,” says Shannon Chavez, PsyD, resident sex therapist with K-Y. “It breaks down stereotypes, judgments, and myths about different sexual populations. Sexuality is a central part of your identity and who you are, and learning more about your own sexuality as well as others’ can be an empowering and positive experience.”
To be sure, understanding your own sexuality can be beneficial for myriad reasons. It “can help you connect to other folks who share a similar experience, which we know is important for supporting the health and well-being of queer people,” Dr. Flanders says. “For me personally, I grew up in a time and a place where bisexuality and queerness weren’t options that were known to me. Once I met people who used those terms to describe themselves, it provided a framework for me to understand myself and my sexuality in a way that enabled me to communicate it to myself and others.”
And in fact, learning about the types of sexuality—even if you feel you already have a strong understanding of your own identity—can help destigmatize and remove shame surrounding the space for others. “I do believe we are going through a new sexual revolution where people are more open with their unique identities, bringing awareness to pronouns and gender identities, and freedom to express who you are sexually without fear and shame,” Dr. Chavez says.
A person who is bicurious is interested in or curious about having sex with someone whose sex or gender is different from their usual sexual partners.
6. Bisexual
A bisexual is someone who is emotionally, romantically, or sexually attracted to more than one sex, gender, or gender identity. This is a term that is sometimes used interchangeably with “pansexual,” which more specifically describes someone who is attracted to people without regard to their gender identity.
7. Demiromantic
This is a person who has little or no ability to feel romantically attracted to someone until they form a strong sexual or emotional connection with a person.
8. Demisexual
A demisexual does not experience sexual attraction until they have a strong romantic connection with someone.
9. Gay
A person who is gay is emotionally, romantically, or sexually attracted to people of the same gender identity. This term is often used by men, women, and non-binary people.
10. Heteroflexible
People who are heteroflexible often identify as heterosexual but may experience situational attraction that falls outside of that.
11. Heterosexual
This term describes people who identify as men who are attracted to people who identify as women, and vice versa.
12. Lesbian
A lesbian is someone who identifies a woman or as non-binary who is emotionally, romantically or sexually attracted to other women. The term is used by women and non-binary people.
13. LGBTQ
This acronym is used for “lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and queer.”
14. Pansexual
A pansexual is a person who has the potential for emotional, romantic or sexual attraction to people of any gender identity or sexual orientation.
People who consider themselves questioning are currently exploring their sexual orientation.
17. Same-gender loving
This is a term that’s used by some people instead of “lesbian,” “gay,” or “bisexual” to explain their attraction to someone of the same gender identity.
18. Skoliosexual
A person who is skoliosexual is attracted to people who are non-binary.
Grindr has both defined itself by and come to define the language of queer men. One of the most recent trends to be seen across people’s profiles is the rise of the hunt for ‘gym buddies’.
Downloading Grindr – then deleting it, before re-downloading it, only to delete it again – has become a modern rite of passage for queer men. The hook-up app revolutionised dating and sex when it arrived in 2009, inspiring the likes of Tinder and the digitised, swipe-heavy dating world of today. Grindr changed gay culture forever too: it created a visual map that proved that gay and bi men are literally everywhere (sometimes just feet away!). The app quickly became the most popular gay app in the world and, by 2014, it had seven million users worldwide. It’s been referenced in many TV shows and films too, from Glee to How to Get Away With Murder, TheReal Housewives and, perhaps most fittingly, Trainwreck.
So many discussions about gay culture end up circling back to Grindr, from body image to sexual racism, “chemsex” and bottom-shaming. On the app, users often behave differently to how they would in “real life” and gay Twitter is often flooded with screengrabs of men behaving badly, brutally and straight-up bizarrely. There’s a whole glossary of emoji-driven codes and even visual “tribes” – such as “otters”, “daddies”, “clean cut” and “twinks” – which would take a very long time to explain to most straight people.
One trend that I’ve noticed – and have long been intrigued by – is men looking for a “gym buddy” on Grindr. On user profiles, it’s very common to see the desire for a “gym bud” listed alongside someone’s favourite drink (usually gin), height, body type and preferred sexual position. But why?
On the face of things, a gym buddy is just a friend to go to the gym with. Some people do use Grindr for platonic connections, particularly if they’ve just moved somewhere new, but it’s nevertheless an intriguing place to look for a gym companion. Michael, a 24-year-old gay man who enjoys group exercise classes and going to the gym with friends, thinks this trend makes sense. “Personally, I used to find the gym an incredibly difficult place to be. It was like hyper-masculinity on speed, with this immense pressure to be fit, strong and ultimately to know what you’re doing,” he tells GQ. “I think working out with somebody can break that intimidation because it’s a) somebody to back up what you’re doing and b) potentially somebody to guide or coach you. It’s safety in numbers in what can be a scary place.”
Personally, the idea of being sweaty and exhausted around someone I don’t know very well fills me with dread (particularly if he’s also a gay man which, no, I won’t be unpacking at this time!). But that’s not Michael’s experience. “In the age of athleisure and boutique gyms, the gym doesn’t have to be a gross and sweaty place,” he says. “People look good at the gym. Plus, they can suck each other off in the steam room or have sex in the shower.”
After speaking with Grindr users in London, I can confirm that Michael is right in suspecting that sometimes the search for gym buddies goes beyond a platonic friendship. There’s obviously a reason why men are using Grindr, specifically, in this way (there are already apps for finding a gym buddy, such as GymBuddy and SportPartner). Some guys, such as 26-year-old James*, were genuinely using Grindr to look for a pal to exercise with, because “Straight men might think I’m hitting on them or not be comfortable working out with me. Or, even if they aren’t thinking that, the feeling that they might be would make me feel awkward.” But others, such as 28-year-old Callum*, were hoping for “something more” if the attraction was there, because “You have more time to work out whether a guy is hot at the gym than in nudes he’s probably edited, or just before a hook-up, and it’s less pressure than meeting somewhere else.”
It’s hardly surprising that the gym might seem like a particularly fruitful backdrop for sex – after all, they are spaces full of sweaty men in not much clothing. On gay Twitter, it seems like everyone has a “gym crush” and there’s also an entire genre of porn that fetishises gyms and the locker room. In 2019, Vice UK investigated why so many gay men still go cruising at the gym, after a Virgin Active health club emailed its members saying it would be sending in undercover police to check for “inappropriate behaviour”. Many garments that have become part of the sartorial language of gay men, from jockstraps to tube socks and short shorts, are also rooted in sportswear. For some, there is clearly a feeling of empowerment in being legibly gay in a hyper-masculine space or reclaiming an aesthetic or pastime that they once felt excluded from.
Gyms are horny, but also quite anxious, places for some gay men. “So many of my clients are uncomfortable in gyms,” says Matt Boyles, founder of Fitter Confident You, a fitness company that helps gay, bi and trans guys get into exercise. When it comes to the link between “gym buddies” and sex, Boyles thinks it’s twofold: “The gym is how you can build your body and thus appear more ‘manly’. Speaking from personal experience, I used to think that would make me seem more ‘straight’.” Boyles also suspects that gyms can be a “stepping stone” for some gay men, because many have saunas and steam rooms, which can be a build up to visiting gay saunas. “This might appeal to men who are sexually attracted to men, but don’t want to seem overly ‘gay’ in any other way,” he says.
But why would men go to the trouble of auditioning a “gym bud” rather than simply going on a date or straight to sex? “Grindr is known for having users who don’t necessarily identify as gay or bi, so they’ve maybe experimented, or may identify as straight, but still want to have sex with men,” gay fitness writer Spenser Mestel tells GQ. “I think that looking for a ‘gym buddy’ is perhaps a way for them to engage with gay men, even though they aren’t able to express what their sexual desires are. If they’re not comfortable asking for the kind of sex that they actually want, this is a stand-in for that.”
Mestel is right that, on Grindr, a lot of the profiles looking for a “gym buddy” identify themselves as “straight”. Many don’t have photos on their profiles and some are in relationships with women. One man, who didn’t share his name, told me that he wouldn’t want to be seen on a date with a man as he’s not out. He also can’t host men at his house, because he’s married to a woman and doesn’t like sending pictures of his face on Grindr. So the gym is a risk-free place to meet men who might not otherwise agree to meet him. Another user, who specifically labelled himself as “Str8” and a “top” (the penetrative role in gay sex), tells me that he’s only into “masculine” men sexually but has no interest in any chat. “I always need to cum most after a workout, so the gym showers are the easiest place and gay men are more into NSA [no strings attached] sex than women,” he says.
It might sound perplexing to hear about men on Grindr identifying as straight, but it’s not uncommon for a distinction and hierarchy to be drawn between sexual activity and romantic relationships (this can be seen as far back as Ancient Greece). Some people also perceive a difference between a physical behaviour, such as sex with men, and the formation of a “gay identity.” Plus, even in the UK in 2021, not everyone has the ability to be open about their sexuality.
Social psychology might also tell us why men, particularly those who consider themselves masculine or straight, might highlight the gym as important to them on an app. Social psychologist Russell Spears theorises that when we go online in a more anonymous or semi-anonymous environment, where there’s less information about people, we rely more on social norms (such as, for men to be sporty and strong). Spears calls this tendency the “de-individualisation hypothesis”, which might be a reason why “straight” men on Grindr emphasise their commitment to exercise.
The gym and Grindr are both places where men might feel competitive with each other or insecure about their masculinity. Mestel thinks this affects gay men in particular. “I think already at the gym, for gay men, there’s a sense of ‘Am I attracted to this person? Or am I just jealous of them?’,” he says. “Our workout routines are very personal to us and intimate, which makes me think having a ‘gym buddy’ is less about working out and more about connecting in a masculine, sanctioned way.” Boyles thinks that it could also be about lessening the pressure of rejection. “If you just say, ‘Shall we go to the gym together?’ and get rejected, it’s less damaging to your self-esteem,” he says. “And it also allows men to justify their reason for being on a gay hook-up app: ‘I’m on Grindr, but I mainly use it for gym buddies!’”
These types of negotiations remind me of something PhD student Robin Craig observed while discussing why men might make an effort to appear more masculine over text. Speaking to GQ in April, he drew a parallel between how men talk on Grindr and the barbershop, as a nearly male-only space where men are seeking physical intimacy,” he said, remarking on how both spaces see an increase in men saying “man”, “dude”, “bro” and “mate”. “The use of male slang reinforces the speaker’s masculinity in a space where it’s placed in jeopardy, such as a gay male cruising app,” he added. Surely, then, the same parallel can also be drawn between the digital space of Grindr and the physical space of the gym?
At first, the search for gym buddies on Grindr might seem like a bizarre trend that isn’t noteworthy. But actually, it intersects with some big questions about how men (from gay to “straight”) feel like they’re supposed to behave in different spaces. The gym and Grindr actually have a lot in common: they’re both places where there’s an emphasis on self-improvement, where there’s a perception of competition, where masculinity is being flaunted, questioned and, crucially, where sex might be on the cards. So, really, how could men not be looking for “gym buddies” on Grindr? They’re natural bedfellows – pun intended.
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