Threesomes can be a bit of a juggling act. I’m thinking: ‘Is our guest at ease? Who are they focusing on? Who am I focusing on?’
Felix and I had sex the first afternoon we met, and I remember that he made a huge amount of noise. I have an office on the floor above my apartment and the walls are very thin. I have a vivid memory of being right in the middle of a particularly intimate moment and actually hearing the telephone ringing upstairs through all the racket Felix was making. It suddenly became obvious that if I could hear that telephone, everyone in the office could hear us. I did try to shush Felix a bit, but I found his lack of inhibition refreshing.
We had met on Grindr, and some of the other men I had slept with via the app seemed uneasy with their homosexuality. I live in Spain, and while it’s not exactly dangerous to be gay, life still revolves around the church. I’ve met men who wanted to keep the lights off during sex, or who kept their shirts on, or who begged me to treat them like dirt. Felix was utterly unlike that: he was sunny and playful. He wanted us to have lunch, not just say hello and then take our trousers off.
Felix was sunny and playful. He wanted us to have lunch, not just say hello and then immediately take our trousers off
I am the top with Felix, meaning I am the active partner, whereas Felix is the bottom. But in reality, Felix is much more versatile – he’s just forced to stick to a passive role with me because I can’t physically cope with being the bottom. It’s an anatomical thing. Mentally I’d love to, but physically it simply doesn’t work. Felix and I agree that it’s unfair that I can’t satisfy him in that way, so we decided to open up our relationship. We’ve been together for two years, but every few weeks we will each go out individually and sleep with another man. We also like to meet men together and have threesomes.
Threesomes are sexy, but they take a surprising amount of organisation. We chat to contenders online, and Felix does most of the texting because he is a lot better at flirting than I am. The threesome itself can be a bit of a juggling act. I’ll be thinking: “Is our guest at ease? Who are they focusing on? Who am I focusing on?” It’s like tapping your head and rubbbing your tummy at the same time. I think we’re getting better at them, though. I suppose threesomes, like twosomes, are a learning curve.
Felix, 28
After the initial excitement has worn off with another man, I usually end up missing Lorenzo
My sexual energy is extremely high, and occasionally a little too much for Lorenzo. If we’re in the kitchen, for example, I’ll want to be right behind him at the sink, hugging and touching and grabbing his bum. I don’t think he likes it. He shows his love in other ways, through acts of care and by how attentively he listens. He is less sexual than me, and that is partly why we have decided to sleep with other people.
We are always updating the terms of our arrangement, and part of the deal is that we debrief one another about every man we have sex with. I will show him pictures of the men I have been home with, particularly the cute ones, and talk through their best moves. Lorenzo and I have always been truthful, even about our sexual compatibility. Lorenzo is a top, whereas I like to switch roles. Because he couldn’t give me everything I needed, early on he decided that wasn’t fair on me, so he insisted that we should both be free.
We rarely agree on who’s hot and who’s not. I fancy young-looking, curly haired men. Twinks, really. That’s not his type
Occasionally I will sleep with a particularly attractive guy and then arrange a date to bring him home for a threesome. The trouble is, we rarely agree on who is hot and who is not. Lorenzo has shown me men he liked in the past and I have been like: “Ew.” I fancy young-looking, curly haired men. That’s not his type, but we take it in turns to compromise.
We have strict rules about falling in love. We aren’t allowed to develop feelings for other people. That’s never been a problem for me – after the initial excitement has worn off with another man, I usually end up missing Lorenzo. I’ll be put off by the way this strange man kisses or the way his tongue feels in my mouth. I’ll smell his trashy aftershave and it will make me think of the very specific, fresh scent of Lorenzo’s skin. Every time I sleep with another man, I end up loving Lorenzo a little more.
— For a certain class of extremely online gay man, explicit photos are the go-to gift for friends and followers.
Selfie
By David Mack
When David Dulin celebrated his 36th birthday in March, he asked his Twitter followers for just two things: cash donations to his online payment account, and pictures of them in their own birthday suits.
“It started as a joke, but it’s just become something that we run with,” said Mr. Dulin, a retail worker in Charlotte, N.C. “Almost every birthday I’ll be like, ‘OK, Cash App and nudes: Drop them!’”
Mr. Dulin began coyly asking for nude photographs via social media on his birthday a few years ago as something of a test after seeing other gay men make similar requests on their own birthdays. He was surprised, he said, when some of his online acquaintances delivered on the invitation, admitting that they had been looking for an opportunity to flirt with him.
In recent years, many queer men have begun sending and receiving nude selfies on social media for their birthdays. Variations on “It’s my birthday, send nudes” have been uttered sofrequently online that it has become something of a meme (or, at the very least, a generic way for a gay man to announce his birthday, whether or not he actually expects to receive any explicit images). The practice has become so normalized that the request is sometimes simplified to, “It’s my birthday — you know what to do.”
Brendan Drake, 36, a choreographer in Los Angeles who identifies as genderqueer, said he had made the request so often that this year on his birthday he received nudes from friends without even having to ask. “It’s almost like it was expected,” he said.
The trend of gay men soliciting nudes on their birthday speaks to the unique nature of gay friendships, but also plays into a social media culture that rewards humor, according to Tom Roach, who teaches gender and sexuality studies at Bryant University in Smithfield, R.I.
“I think it’s basically a provocation and a challenge, but in a campy way — it has a certain ‘wink, wink, nod, nod’ feel to it,” said Professor Roach, who has written books on queer friendships and digital relationships. “I don’t think people are sincerely, desperately seeking nude pictures of their friends. I think they’re doing it to be provocative, to be like, ‘Look at how shamelessly sex-positive I am!’”
In many parts of the country, it is not uncommon for gay people to have a more relaxed attitude toward sex, including alternatives to monogamy such as open relationships, and many gay friendships begin as casual sex encounters. A 2022 study also found that 85 percent of respondents who were in same-sex relationships had formed romantic partnerships out of friendships, while only 68 percent of all respondents said they had taken the “friends-to-lovers pathway.”
Gay men, of course, are not a monolith. But given the community was born out of a shared sexual attraction to men, Professor Roach said, it doesn’t surprise him that friendships between gay men today “don’t play by the same rules” as others.
In addition to cellphone cameras making it far easier to quickly snap and send a racy photo, social media apps like Instagram and X — the platform formerly known as Twitter — allow users to curate private lists of “close friends.” For many gay men, the feature can be used to ensure that an open call for birthday nudes reaches only a carefully selected audience — one excluding straight friends and colleagues.
Some of these behaviors mimic well-established practices on hookup apps, where the trading of sexually explicit images can be de rigueur. “It’s also importing some of the norms of Grindr into other platforms that don’t necessarily traffic in nudes,” Professor Roach said. “It’s kind of like worlds colliding.”
A birthday can also pose an opportunity for someone ordinarily too shy to solicit nudes to do so in a socially sanctioned way, while the messages themselves can function as an all-purpose declaration of consent for others to shoot their shot in the most risqué way possible.
“It really feels like a way of publicly doing so where the shame will just be slightly less,” said Manuel Betancourt, 38, the author of “The Male Gazed,” a collection of essays on thirst traps and queer longing. “Then, it can be a door, or it can be a window, or it could be sort of an opening into something else.”
The decision to send a birthday nude is often predicated on feelings of attraction, but it’s not always about seeking sex. Jake Niemeyer, a 32-year-old television editor in Los Angeles, said he had sent birthday nudes to online acquaintances as far away as Scotland with no expectations of physical intimacy.
“There’s next to no chance I will ever see this person in-person,” Mr. Niemeyer said. “But still, I find them attractive, they say they find me attractive and that’s kind of a nice feeling. It’s a safe way for both of you to have a micro sexual interaction.”
In a group that often celebrates and rewards idealized muscular bodies, leading some gay men to develop body-image issues, the act of swapping nudes with trusted friends can actually prove to be deeply affirming.
“It’s very body-positive,” said Zachary Zane, 32, a bisexual sex columnist. “You feel sexy, you feel affirmed, you feel validated and loved by your friends. It’s not an invitation to hook up; it’s more so us actually just supporting each other and showing each other love.”
The pandemic isolation of 2020 may have fueled the sharing of nude images among gay men who felt cut off from one another. For Mr. Drake, the choreographer, those fearful months made him worry less about whether his nude images were floating around online. Alone for several months with just his phone for company, he also found important intimacy in trading nudes with friends.
Having an online outlet for sexual expression “was actually a little lifesaving for me,” Mr. Drake said. “A lot of people will call it toxic, but I don’t think it’s toxic. I think it’s really life-affirming.”
— Get to know gay pups: A unique subculture within the leather community
Gay pups blend the camaraderie found within queer tribes with the captivating allure of BDSM, making pup play an all-encompassing experience that combines both fetishism and a unique sense of brotherhood.
When you let your hands become paws, your bark has no limits. So let’s explore everything you need to know about this kinky subculture.
What is a gay pup?
Gay pups adopt a playful canine archetype, but every participant’s experience can look different. The absence of strict rules or prerequisites empowers individuals to pursue fulfillment in their own unique way, united by the common thread of role-playing as young dogs.
In the realm of the gay animal kingdom, physicality often plays a defining role, but in the world of pups, inclusivity reigns supreme. Regardless of age or body type, anyone is welcome to don a mask, tail, and leather mittens and fully immerse themselves on all fours.
While tribes like bears, otters, and twinks are distinguished by their bodies, they can all become pups! In fact, it’s not even limited to sexuality, though gay men tend to be the most visible demographic.
It’s common to channel your four-legged alter ego and embrace a pup identity; think names such as Shadow, Danger, or Creamy – ranging from innocent to cheeky. Many of these names sound like the kind of friends a grown-up Lassie might have met at the club.
What came first, the pups or their handlers?
Everyone starts as a “feral pup,” which embodies the singledom of a stray. Naturally, a dog needs their owner, so most pups find a handler (or several) throughout their journey.
Discovering a handler can take the form of a sexual, romantic, or platonic relationship. Pups who have established such a connection proudly wear a collar, symbolizing their bond.
A handler, most commonly called “sir,” assumes a role akin to the BDSM practice of masters and slaves. However, being a gay pup is far from degrading; on the contrary, it’s about embracing the role eagerly and striving to be a “good boy.”
Whether you’re playing fetch with your sir, receiving belly rubs, or reverently licking their boot, the experience is entirely up to your negotiation. Just like other relationships within the leather and kink community, the emphasis is on finding a handler who aligns with your desires for fun and pleasure.
The origins of gay pup culture
While the gay pup subculture has evolved into a distinctive sphere of its own, its origins can be traced back to leathermen and BDSM, with a lineage that extends far behind closed doors and beyond the reach of textbooks.
Folks in these communities didn’t need dog gear to enjoy getting on all fours, following commands, or collars. Besides, gay men have never been shy to woof! But gay pups are mostly known as a postmodern movement, gradually growing by the numbers as the acceptance of kink goes mainstream.
Come Pride season, don’t be surprised to see a human-sized kennel filled with gay pups nuzzling, chewing on toys, and barking for attention.
The art (and freedom) of pup play
Aside from handlers, gay pups eventually find or create their pack for endless pup play. Dogs are social creatures, and human dogs are no different! You can find them online or in person at local leather and kinky spaces. Not to mention annual happenings, including captivating contests mimicking Best in Show.
Some packs live together, and others sync calendars. You’ll find bankers, artists, and teachers could be a part of the same group, while others opt for people with similar professions. The magic of gay pup culture is the spontaneity and liberation of how it can manifest for each person – it sounds like gay rights to us.
Choosing a pack is not unlike your social circle, and your interactions will mirror your compatibility and desires. Beyond sex, it’s about getting in the “pup headspace,” which kinda is like getting into character and, for many, serenity. There are typically three types of roles in a pack, as follows:
Alpha: The gay pup that is dominant and acts as the leader.
Beta: These would be versatile pups who enjoy servicing as much as being dominant.
Omega: Submissive by trade, these pups aim to be the most ‘good boy’ of them all.
Unlike traditional hierarchies, upward movement is not the goal. Your role will echo your personality. Packs sometimes give their members more specialized roles, such as a muscle queen providing security from outsiders at bars.
Of course, you can remain feral and play and experiment with other packs and their sirs without commitment. But many like the security, depth, and reliability of finding like-minded individuals and evolving together, including opportunities for real-life friendships and mentorship.
Ready to get on all fours?
If you feel the inkling to become a gay pup, then congratulations – you’ve already passed the test! Welcome to the playful – and naughty – community.
While dog gear and finding a sir/pack can enhance the experience and transform it into a lifestyle, embracing the identity is the first step towards discovering your pup persona.
And the best part? Human dogs can have bio dogs, making it all the more fun.
Young people do not fall into neat categories of race, sexual orientation or gender identity. Research into LGBTQ mental health must take that into account
Our youth are in a mental health crisis. Young people describe steadily increasing sadness, hopelessness and suicidal thoughts. These mental health challenges are greater for youth who hold marginalized identities that include sexual orientation, gender identity or race or ethnicity. Near-constant exposure to traumatizing media and news stories, such as when Black youth watch videos of people who look like them being killed or when transgender youth hear multiple politicians endorse and pass laws that deny their very existence, compounds these disparities.
But young people do not fall into neat categories of race, ethnicity, sexual orientation or gender identity. They reject antiquated norms and societal expectations, especially around gender and sexuality. Yet most research on people in this group, especially on LGBTQ youth, does not fully account for how they identify themselves. Approaching research as though sex is binary and gender is exact leads to incomplete data. This mistake keeps us from creating the best possible mental health policies and programs.
We need to collect robust data on specific populations of LGBTQ young people to better understand the unique risks they face, such as immigration concerns that Latinx youth may have that others may not. We can also better understand factors that uphold well-being, such as how family support affects Black trans and nonbinary youth.
LGBTQ young people of color, including those who identify in more nuanced ways than either gay or lesbian, are more likely to struggle with their mental health than their white LGBTQ counterparts. As researchers, if we can equip ourselves with this information about their unique needs and experiences, we can create intervention strategies that support the mental health of every LGBTQ young person rather than attempting to apply a “broad strokes” approach that assumes what works for one group must work for all.
As director of research science at the Trevor Project, the premier suicide prevention organization for LGBTQ youth, I lead projects that examine LGBTQ young people and their mental health in an intersectional way, accounting for the many facets of their identities and how society and culture influence how they value themselves. I and my colleagues conduct studies with groups of people who are geographically diverse and gender- and race-diverse to understand what drives mental health distress in a way that allows us to address specific needs in different populations. For advocates trying to improve mental health outcomes, this means they must consider stigma, how it turns into victimization, discrimination, and rejection and how it disproportionately affects people who hold multiple marginalized identities.
Our 2023 U.S. National Survey on the Mental Health of LGBTQ Young People, for example, found that LGBTQ youth with multiple marginalized identities reported greater suicide risk, compared with their peers who did not have more than one marginalized identity. To learn this, we asked young people demographic questions about race/ethnicity, sexual orientation and gender identity amid a battery of assessments. Based on survey questions about mental health and suicide risk, we’ve found that nearly one in five transgender or nonbinary young people (18 percent) attempted suicide in the past year, compared with nearly one in 10 cisgender young people whose sexual orientation was lesbian, gay, bisexual, queer, pansexual, asexual or questioning (8 percent). Among almost all groups of LGBTQ young people of color, the rates of those who said they had attempted suicide—22 percent of Indigenous youth, 18 percent of Middle Eastern/Northern African youth, 16 percent of Black youth, 17 percent of multiracial youth and 15 percent of Latinx youth—were higher than that of white LGBTQ youth (11 percent). And youth who identified as pansexual attempted suicide at a significantly higher rate than lesbian, gay, bisexual, queer, asexual and questioning youth.
The majority of research exploring LGBTQ young people’s mental health does not have the sample size to do subgroup analyses in this way or, in rare cases, opts to unnecessarily aggregate findings (such as when bisexual young people are not analyzed separately despite representing the majority of the LGBTQ population). Our recruitment goals are set on finding enough people in harder-to-reach groups, such as Black transgender and nonbinary young people, and not to simply have a high overall sample size. In doing so, we are able to analyze findings specific to each group and also ensure these findings reach a wide audience. However, just as other researchers, when we are unable to collect enough data for subgroups to appropriately power our analyses, we do not publish those findings.
What we hope is that people working in small community settings can design targeted prevention programs. For example, an organization that aims to improve well-being among Latinx LGBTQ young people can also provide appropriate support for immigration laws and policies because immigration issues feed into mental health. Or an organization focused on family and community support among Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders can also focus on LGBTQ young people. The data we have gathered can informed services at organizations such as Desi Rainbow Parents & Allies, National Black Justice Coalition (NBJC) and the Ali Forney Center, among others.
Researchers must be intentional about which aspects of sexual orientation and gender identity are most relevant to the questions they are trying to answer when designing their studies. They must use survey items closely matched to those categories. Researchers must find a balance between nuance and analytic utility—allowing young people to describe their own identities in addition to using categorical descriptors. This can look like including open-ended questions or longer lists of identity options. Taking steps like these are critical for collecting and analyzing data that reflect the multitudes of this diverse group of young people. I urge researchers to apply an intersectional lens to their work and public health officials and youth-serving organizations to tailor services and programming to meet the unique needs of all young people. That’s because a “one-size-fits-all” approach has never and will never work when the goal is to save lives.
IF YOU NEED HELP
If you or someone you know is struggling or having thoughts of suicide, help is available. Call or text the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline at 988 or use the online Lifeline Chat. LGBTQ+ Americans can reach out to the Trevor Project by texting START to 678-678 or calling 1-866-488-7386.
The use of the word “queer” has become so widespread that it’s now represented by the letter “Q” in the initialism LGBTQ+. However, some individuals find the word offensive or feel that it doesn’t represent them.
A closer look at the word reveals how it became a slur, how LGBTQ+ activists and academics have reclaimed the word, and the way its definition continues to change in the face of social and political challenges.
Understanding the term “Queer”
The current Oxford Languages Dictionary defines “queer” as an old-fashioned verb meaning “to spoil or ruin” and an adjective meaning either “strange, odd” or “relating to a sexual or gender identity that does not correspond to established ideas of sexuality and gender, especially heterosexual norms.”
That last definition, in simpler words, means that “queer” is an umbrella term for people who aren’t heterosexual or cisgender.
“Queer” first popped up in the English language during the 16th century as a synonym for “strange” and “illegitimate.” In the 19th century, it began to mean “odd,” and by the end of that century, people used it as a slur against effeminate men and men who slept with other men.
However, in the 1980s, some gay and lesbian activists began reclaiming “queer” as an empowering self-designation. Academics also began studying “queer theory” to examine so-called traditional “norms” of sex and gender and their intersection with political identities and social power structures.
The word’s meaning continues to evolve, even now. Some people user queer as a verb that means “to challenge something’s commonly expected function” or as an adjective that includes any intimate practices or familial structures that fall outside of mainstream “norms.”
“‘Queer is still a word that many find offensive,” NPR’s editor for standards and practices Mark Memmott explained in 2019. “For many people, it’s still a difficult word to hear or read because of the past history.”
Jason DeRose, a senior editor who oversaw coverage of LGBTQ+ rights at NPR in 2019, noted that some members of older generations, like Baby Boomers, may find the term problematic or hurtful because it was used for decades as a slur, particularly during years when LGBTQ+ identities were criminalized and considered as forms of mental illness.
Often the slur was used while verbally harassing or assaulting people who were perceived as different. Such insults could raise suspicions about one’s identity and private life and leave them subject to discrimination, investigation, or other social consequences — like being fired from a job or disowned from a family — as a result.
However, younger generations, like Millenials and Gen Xers, tend to be more comfortable with the term, having grown up at a time of greater societal acceptance towards LGBTQ+ people.
Reclaiming the term “Queer”
In the late 1980s and early ’90s, some LGBTQ+ people began using “queer” as a neutral or empowering self-identity that signified people who aren’t heterosexual or who aren’t cisgender.
Some of these people re-claimed “queer” to throw the slur back in society’s face or to show a defiant Pride in the very identities that society long told them to feel ashamed and afraid of. As the number of proud “queers” increased, it gradually became harder to treat all LGBTQ+ people like a powerless minority.
One of the earliest well-known reclaimers of the slur was the LGBTQ+ direct-action activist group Queer Nation. The group emerged to fight queerphobia during the HIV epidemic by raising the visibility of queer people in non-queer public spaces, like bars.
Queer Nation used the well-known protest chant — “We’re Here! We’re Queer! Get used to it!” — to communicate an unwillingness to go back into the closet or behave as others expected.
The group’s chapters in other states distributed informational pamphlets about queer sex and famous queers throughout history; held a “kiss-in” at the 1992 Academy Awards red carpet to protest queer exclusion in Hollywood films; massively protested homophobic entertainers and incidents of anti-queer violence; arranged a “Pink Panther” street patrol to prevent queer-bashings; and broadcast video of two milk-covered men kissing on public access television.
These actions weren’t just to make heterosexual people uncomfortable — they were also meant to encourage other queers to creatively challenge the systems of heteronormativity that often treated LGBTQ+ people as easy targets for violence, harassment, and exclusion.
Some activists have taken the idea a step further with “queercore” and “queer shame,” a punk rock approach that rejects the idea that LGBTQ+ people should be respectable, otherwise indistinguishable from straight people, and “brand-safe” for large companies and political movements to exploit.
Current usage of “Queer”
The meaning of “queer” has also changed in response to academic thinkers in the field of “queer studies.”
Examinations of sexuality and gender once resided in the “Women’s Studies” departments of colleges and universities. The earliest thinkers in this field examined how “traditional” conceptions of gender, sexuality, identity, and desire create socio-political power structures that can be explored, critiqued, and challenged. “Queer studies” emerged from this discipline as an interdisciplinary field.
Queer thinkers challenge the idea that individual identities are fixed and unchanging, that gender and sexuality are binary, and that sexual practices are either normal or abnormal. Rather than treating heterosexuality and cisgender identities as “normal” or “natural,” queer theorists believe that sexuality and gender are socially constructed by cultural media and individually performed by how people publicly present themselves. These can change depending on the time, place, and context.
Not all people agree that “queer” is the same as “gay.” For some, queerness refers to people whose identities, lived experiences, and outlooks fall out of the mainstream as well as the protection of the mainstream.
For example, a gay, cisgender, white, Christian, American man might not be considered “queer” by some because his mainstream identities may grant him more social protections than a Black, pansexual, transgender, female immigrant living in Iraq. This woman’s unique identities aren’t nearly as “mainstream” as the gay man’s and don’t provide nearly as many social protections.
“Queer” has also increasingly been used as a verb that means “to challenge something’s commonly expected function.” One can “queer” social expectations by identifying, behaving, and appearing in ways that challenge preexisting social norms. For example, someone can “queer” the institution of marriage by having multiple sexual or emotional partners, not living with their spouse, or having relationship rules and familial structures that don’t follow the “traditional nuclear family.”
For example, polyamory and kink both fall outside of legal protections: You can legally be fired or have your children taken away for both, and both — like LGBTQ+ identity — have been vilified as forms of social deviance and mental illness.
But using “queer” in this way would qualify some heterosexual and cisgender people as “queer,” an idea that might upset some LGBTQ+ people who disapprove of straight polyamorists and ministers applying an anti-queer slur to themselves. However, other LGBTQ+ individuals might be fine with straight “queers” as long as the heterosexuals elevate LGBTQ+ voices and advocate for LGBTQ+ rights.
Others might dislike “queer” as a catch-all term for any non-hetero and non-cis people because it erases their unique identities, lumping them all together in one category rather than proclaiming their unique sexual orientation and gender identity. Such people might proclaim, “I’m not queer, I’m lesbian,” or “I’m not ‘queer’ — I’m ‘omnisexual!’”
As always, it’s important to allow people to self-identify with whatever terms they feel most comfortable with, and to allow community members to accept it or to experience productive tensions and dialogues about what it means to be queer.
The Running Debate Over Using “Queer”
Over the last half-century, queer has transformed from a hateful slur to a political identity that challenges cis-heteronormativity. While some people still find “queer” offensive or feel that it erases their unique identities and experiences, others find it empowering and a useful way to grow a cultural movement while critiquing oppressive socio-political structures around sex, gender, desire, identity, and power.
The term remains a complex and slippery one that will likely change, especially as people gain a greater understanding of the many ways they identify with and experience sex and gender. For some, “queer” will be an important identity (something they are). For others, “queer” will be an important action (something they do).
Some LGBTQ+ people may reject the “queer” label entirely, but regardless, it’ll always remain important to understand the context in which it is used and to respect each individual’s choice of language.
— Identity is ever-changing, it may be difficult to understand where you stand and that is totally okay! Sexuality and identity is fluid, the most important part is letting yourself explore and learn what you feel the most comfortable with.
In this article, we’ll tackle what it means to be rubber and what it entails to be a part of this community.
Queer communities have a long history of subcultures. From bears, to otters, to butches, there are a variety of ways in which community members have created spaces to feel more like themselves. These subcultures are just another way in which queer folks can feel better represented and seen.
The rubber community is a subculture that involves wearing or fetishizing latex clothing. Wearing latex signals their association and pride with their unconventional approach to sex. Rubber subculture is often related to BDSM practices and interest in sexual activities that involve wearing latex apparel. The queer community has close ties to the BDSM community and we often see them intermingle. This is why a lot of rubber community members are also a part of the LGBTQ+ community.
Learning that you might be a part of the rubber community might be scary at first, but there are many ways to plug yourself into the community and learn to be comfortable with yourself.
if you’re curious about how you might identify, here’s what you should know about what being rubber means:
History of rubber culture
The boom of the latex fetish began in the 1960s and early 1970s. The British TV program The Avengers is often seen as the catalyst for the movement. PVC boots, catsuits, and raincoats were just a few of the kinds of garments that began the rubber subculture.
In 1972 a magazine called AtomAge was founded. It featured BDSM imagery and helped popularize and solidify these subcultures mainly within younger groups of people. In addition, latex became closely related to popular rock bands such as the Sex Pistols who were also huge influencers at the time. The rubber fetish was becoming more and more socially acceptable and popular.
In the 1980s the rubber subculture took a turn and made its way into nightlife culture. Club kids and performers started wearing latex outfits and became pioneers of the rubber subculture. This also brought the rubber community and BDSM community closer. At this time the idea of wearing latex became more related to sexual practices and fetishization.
What makes someone a part of the rubber community?
The one thing all rubber community members have in common is a love of latex itself. Other than that the way one approaches being rubber is completely up to them. Some rubber community members like to wear skin-tight latex outfits such as a catsuit often associated with the dominatrix community. Others might turn to gas masks or galoshes, it all depends on your preference.
The rubber subculture refers to those who feel sexual gratification from feeling, seeing, or even tasting latex. A lot of community members describe wearing latex as a “second skin” which is why it is appealing to some. It may feel like you are naked when you are wearing latex even though you are not, which is a turn-on for some latex wearers.
In addition, sex toys such as dildos or butt plugs are often made from rubber which may be another reason why it’s a material people often associate with sex. The sensory experience of touching latex is a big reason why rubber can be considered sexual.
Truly the main thing that makes someone rubber is being an active community member. The rubber subculture can be seen represented at pride weeks and in safe spaces. In recent years, it has been very important to understand how sex can be more than just conventional.
It’s also always a great idea to trust that members of the community know more about their identity than you do. Listen to rubber community members when they speak about their identity and don’t doubt or assume anything.
Perspectives on being rubber
Being a part of the rubber community should be a source of pride. Being able to be a part of these subcultures can mean a variety of things including finding yourself and where you stand in terms of your sexuality and identity. It is important to remember that communities such as the rubber community face a great deal of oppression and unwarranted hate.
There are a variety of myths and misconceptions regarding the rubber community that we are working on debunking. Because the rubber subculture is closely related to the BDSM community and explores a very sex-positive part of oneself this leads to unnecessarily negative connotations. The idea that rubbers are “all about sex” or that the community is “abusive” are lies and myths. Consensual sex is the only kind of sex accepted within these communities, non-consensual acts are NOT condoned in any shape or form. Sex positivity changes the cultural attitude we have that sex is “taboo” when in fact it is just another way we express ourselves.
It is also important to note the intersectionality between the rubber community and the LGBTQ+ community, Although the rubber community is accepting of everyone we should always acknowledge those who pioneered the movement and who at first were marginalized and oppressed for expressing themselves. It is because of these brave individuals that we can have things such as rubber pride week.
A great way to better understand the rubber perspective is to keep up to date with rubber news and follow individuals who are advocating for rights and policies that benefit the community. Reading about what it means to be rubber and be a part of this vast community is a great way to better understand the rubber viewpoint.
The rubber flag
The rubber pride flag was designed by Peter Tolos and Scott Moats in 1995. This flag is not meant to represent any sexualities or gender identities. It is only meant to represent the rubber community as a whole. Regardless, this flag is often seen flying at pride week because a lot of LGBTQ+ community members also identify with the rubber subculture. The colors mean as follows:
Black: The desire for the rubber/latex look and feel.
Red: The blood passion for rubbermen (gay men with a rubber fetish) and rubber itself.
Yellow: A drive for intense rubber play and fantasies.
Bottom Line
Being rubber can mean a lot of things, it can mean your love for the kink world, for rubber garments itself, or for sensory play. There is not just one way to approach being a part of the rubber community. Although there are many who don’t understand the nuances and layers that come with this multifaceted identity, there is nothing wrong with being rubber. You are the only person who can determine your identity.
Subcultures within the LGBGTQ+ community are an essential part of what it means to be whoever you want to be. That is why the BDSM community and the LGBTQ+ community have so many ties, because both communities value the idea of being yourself.
If some of the ideas above resonate with you and you’re thinking of coming out, make sure the conditions are safe and have a plan of action regarding housing and food if things don’t go as planned.
In addition, be sure to learn about the other identities that make up the LGBTQ+ community on our website or subscribe to the INTO newsletter to learn more.
It found that same-sex sexual behaviour among monkeys made them better friends, and more likely to back each other up in conflicts.
A new study, published in Nature Ecology & Evolution, focused on 236 males within a wild colony of 1,700 rhesus macaques on a Puerto Rican island over three years.
The findings suggest that “same-sex sexual behaviours” (SSB) have evolved and could be a common feature of primate reproduction, challenging beliefs that this is rare in non-human animals.
More specifically, with all social mountings of the 236 males recorded (male-on-male and male-on-female), 72 per cent engaged in same-sex mounting compared with 46 per cent different-sex mounting.
Jackson Clive, from Imperial’s Georgina Mace Centre for the Living Planet, who worked on the study, said they found “most males were behaviourally bisexual”.
He added: “Variation in same-sex activity was heritable. This means that the behaviour can have an evolutionary underpinning: for example, we also found that males that mounted each other were also more likely to back each other up in conflicts. Perhaps this could be one of many social benefits to same-sex sexual activity.”
He hoped the results would encourage further discoveries.
Lead researcher, professor Vincent Savolainen, said their mission was to “advance scientific understanding of same-sex behaviour, including exploring the benefits it brings to nature and within animal societies”.
Same-sex behaviour ‘benefits’ societies
He highlighted how “more than two-thirds displayed same-sex behaviour and this strengthened the bonds within the community”.
The professor went on: “Unfortunately, there is still a belief among some people that same-sex behaviour is unnatural, and some countries sadly still enforce the death penalty for homosexuality.
“Our research shows that same-sex behaviour is in fact widespread among non-human animals.”
“Our mission is to advance scientific understanding of same-sex behaviour, including exploring the benefits it brings to nature and within animal societies.”
SSB has been observed in thousands of different animals. There are a range of theories as to why but little data to support any of them.
— Provides comprehensive, and inclusive, sexual education
“This Book is Gay,” by Juno Dawson.
By Ali Velshi and Hannah Holland
“This Book is Gay,” by Juno Dawson, starts with a welcome: “There’s a long-running joke that, on ‘coming out,’ a young lesbian, gay guy, bisexual, or trans person should receive a membership card and instruction manual. This is your instruction manual.” And “This Book is Gay” reads as exactly that: a guide.
Each fact-based chapter is interspersed with a candid, first-person narrative collected from real people.
Equal parts humorous and informative, this nonfiction young adult book is divided into sections: identity, stereotypes, queer history, coming out and relationships — including sexual relationships. Each fact-based chapter is interspersed with candid, first-person narratives collected from real people.
Dawson is a guide with credentials, having spent nearly a decade as a sexual education and wellness teacher in the U.K. before turning to writing full-time. She came out as transgender publicly in 2015 and is a staunch advocate for the LGBTQ+ community.
“The Ins and Outs of Gay Sex,” a chapter positioned toward the end of the book, opens with text outlined to make you take notice, “This Chapter is about sex. […] If you are a younger reader and feel you aren’t ready for the finer details of same-sex pairings, then simply skip this whole chapter.” The chapter goes on to include potentially lifesaving information on sexually transmitted infections, including HIV and AIDS, diagrams of sexual organs, like you might see in health class, and a commentary on love and relationships.
Much has been written about the sheer number of books banned these past two school years (a record 1,477 instances of individual books banned in the first half of this school year according to PEN America) and the fact that a disproportionately high number of those titles tell LGBTQ+ stories. “This Book is Gay” is frequently near the top of the American Library Association’s list of most banned books.
Most of the books we feature on the “Velshi Banned Book Club” are literature, including contemporary works of poetry and graphic novels. The conversation surrounding the accessibility of those works is ultimately a conversation about the value of literature for students and for society. Conversely, the conversation surrounding “This Book is Gay” is about the necessity for comprehensive and, most importantly, inclusive sexual education. As Dawson so saliently reminds readers, the exclusion of same-sex couples in the typical sex-ed class is nothing short of “institutional homophobia.”
Sexual education of any kind is rapidly disappearing and changing across the nation. Florida’s Broward County, which includes Fort Lauderdale, ended this school year with no sexual education at all. Georgia’s Gwinnett County, just outside of Atlanta, has voted to stick with abstinence-only education. School districts across Kentucky have had to overhaul their curriculum to comply with new bans on sex education, gender identity and student pronouns. This is happening all over the nation, state by state.
Of course, many of the arguments made against “This Book is Gay” center around antiquated views of gender expression and sexuality, but they’re also made in bad faith, including labeling this book as “inappropriate.” For a certain age group, this book is inappropriate. This book is not for young children — which is why it is not written for or marketed to them. Educators and proponents of inclusive sexual education, who may have used this book as an educational resource or noted its spot on a library shelf, are not intending for it to be used to teach young children.
Florida’s Broward County, which includes Fort Lauderdale, ended this school year with no sexual education at all.
“This Book is Gay” is for those young adults already grappling with their sexuality and identity. It is for those who are already looking for a safe space, understanding, or a guide through the dense jungle of teenage years. A group, I might add, that has had access to the full depths of the internet for their entire lives. It is the best-case, and least-likely, scenario that any one of them learned about sex, relationships and sexual identity through school-mandated sexual education or with the help of books that could be read and discussed with their parents.
The reality is this: At some point between high school, college and young adulthood, most everyone will be confronted with a situation related to sex and sexuality. “I didn’t know anything about myself. […] I was so unprepared and, now as an adult I see that I was left very vulnerable. I didn’t fully understand consent, I didn’t fully understand boundaries, I didn’t understand that I could say no to things,” explains Dawson in an interview on the Velshi Banned Book Club.
Relationships can be the most beautiful and rewarding part of life, and they can also be the most damaging, physically and emotionally. By prohibiting access to valuable resources like “This Book is Gay,” we are leaving already vulnerable LGBTQ+ young adults with nowhere to turn.
Sending our young people, regardless of sexual orientation, into the world without a comprehensive understanding of how to prevent sexually transmitted infections or pregnancy is a huge problem. Sending our young people into the world without a conversation about what respect looks like within a relationship is a major issue. Sending our young people into the world without a conversation about who exactly they are is nothing short of a crisis.
You don’t need a relationship therapist for everything, but when you and your partner are struggling to communicate, a couples therapist can give you some much-needed tools. Of course, it can be hard to know if and when seeking couples therapy is the right move — especially for queer couples. Since LGBTQ+ people have historically been underrepresented in science, literature, and media, it can be difficult for queer couples to know if they’re experiencing normal relationship stress or something bigger.
Throughout my years working as a sex and relationship therapist, I’ve pinpointed signs that you and your partner might need help from a professional. Here are seven signs that it might be time for couples therapy.
1. You’re stuck in an “infinity fight.”
Fighting with your partner isn’t always a bad thing. We all communicate differently, and for many of us, a heated (but respectful) argument is the easiest path toward conflict resolution. That said, it isn’t healthy to fight every day — especially when that fight is always about the same thing. If you and your partner fight about the same issue every time it pops up and nothing seems to change afterwards, you’re in what I call an “infinity fight.”
You could be fighting about anything — friends, family, sex, chores — but if it’s not getting better, then it’s probably just getting worse. It’s okay if you two can’t work it out on your own. That’s what therapy is for!
2. You think there’s room for improvement, but you don’t know where to start.
Couples therapy isn’t only for partners who are at their wits’ end. If you see a problem forming and want to get ahead of it, couples therapy might be right for your relationship.
In many cases, counseling is even more effective if you do it before the tears are flowing and tempers are running hot. There are a million different ways that two people can spark conflict with each other — and there’s no rule book that can tell you how to fix them all — so there’s no shame in seeking professional advice.
3. Being with your partner feels like a chore.
This is one of the saddest things I see as a therapist. Two people are madly in love, but unresolved gripes, conflicts, or complaints suck the life out of them over time.
If it feels like being with your partner is a chore — i.e., you’d rather capitulate than argue with them, their requests always feel like a burden, you try to avoid emotional or physical connection, etc. — then something is clearly wrong.
Likewise, if you feel like your partner is treating you that way no matter what you do, then it’s time to call in some assistance. Couples therapy can help you uncover the origin of those feelings and guide you back to a healthy and happy relationship.
4. Your sex life is struggling.
I often struggle to get clients to open up about sex. Whether they’re unsatisfied, afraid to express their desires, or experiencing shifts in libido, the last thing they want to do is talk to their partner about it.
They might be scared of hurting each other’s feelings or just flat-out uncomfortable talking about sex, so they wait to address it until they can hardly tolerate sex. In other cases, they may have perfect sexual communication but still feel unable to improve. A therapist can help you find out why you’re sexually unsatisfied and get back to sexual bliss with your partner.
5. You have trust issues.
I can tell you right now that a lack of trust will lead to bigger and badder problems in no time. It could be that you’ve been hurt before and feel suspicious, or it could be that your partner’s words or actions are inconsiderate.
We all want to know the truth and we all want to be able to trust our loved ones, but it’s rarely that simple. A therapist can help both of you communicate more honestly with each other. They can also help you find out if that mistrust is coming from you, your partner, or both.
6. You and/or your partner are working through trauma.
I know it feels obvious to seek professional help after experiencing trauma, but few people think to involve their partners in that work. If you’ve been through trauma together, such as a car accident or loss of a child, then you need to heal together.
If one of you has been through something traumatic, it’s normal for the other partner to want to help — even if they don’t know how. It’s natural for all of us to want to be there for those we love. A therapist can help you heal, but they can also teach your partner how to be there for you and vice versa.
7. You and your partner have fundamental differences.
We may not mind our partner’s differences at first. That difference could be a hobby, a political view, religious difference, or any other value or interest you don’t share.
Over time, these differences can turn into points of contention, resentment, or arguments. You probably can’t change that aspect of them, but a therapist can help you both move forward in a healthy way.
Remember: Couples therapy isn’t a last resort.
As the stigma surrounding mental health fades away, therapy is becoming more and more common. You don’t have to wait for an extreme problem to try it. Try a few therapists and see what feels right. Hopefully, you and your partner will start a journey towards a better, stronger relationship. That said, therapy isn’t a fix-all solution for every problem. Sometimes two people simply aren’t compatible — and that’s okay! Therapy can help you discover what steps to take for a healthier life, whether that’s together or apart.
— Over the past two decades, the proportion of those who identify as bisexual increased from 1.2% to 4.5%.
By Ross Pomeroy
A new study published in the Journal of Sex Research shows that bisexuality — being attracted to or engaging in sexual behavior with people of both sexes — has tripled in the U.S. over the past three decades.
Bisexuality is generally considered an invisible sexual orientation because bisexual individuals are often in monogamous relationships, so they simply appear either hetero- or homosexual.
The upward trend in bisexuality in America seems set to continue, as over 6% of 18-29 year-olds but fewer than 2% of respondents over age 40 identified as bisexual in the latest data.
A new study published in the Journal of Sex Research shows that bisexuality — being attracted to or engaging in sexual behavior with people of both sexes — has tripled in the U.S. over the past three decades.
University of Portland undergraduate student Sophia Neuweiler initiated the research for her senior thesis. She teamed up with Martin Monto, a professor of sociology specializing in gender and sexuality, to analyze data from the General Social Survey (GSS). Conducted by the National Opinion Research Center at the University of Chicago, the GSS has been used to monitor changes in social characteristics and attitudes among Americans for more than 50 years. Its biennial sample groups are designed to be representative of the demographic and socioeconomic makeup of U.S. households.
A surge in bisexuality
Neuweiler and Monto found that between 1989 and 1994, 3.1% of the 6,354 respondents reported having both male and female sex partners since age 18. Between 2012 and 2018, that rate had climbed to 9.3% among the 6,609 survey takers. Moreover, during the pandemic-affected 2021 survey year, 9.6% of respondents reported partners of both sexes as adults.
Engaging in sexual activities with members of both sexes after age 18 is not necessarily indicative of true bisexuality, however. For example, someone who identifies as gay or lesbian might have had opposite-sex partners in early adulthood before coming out later in life. Thus, the researchers checked to see if there was a corresponding increase in the proportion of Americans who actually identify as bisexual. The GSS began asking respondents about their sexual orientation in 2004. Between then and 2010, 1.2% of those surveyed identified as bisexual. By 2021, the rate had nearly quadrupled, rising to 4.5%.
“Society draws lines around sexual behavior, and these lines, though often in dispute, may move over time,” the researchers wrote. “These changing norms appear to have affected the proportion of people who identify as bisexual and likely also affected actual sexual behavior.”
Neuweiler and Monto note that the increase in bisexuality in the survey data might also stem from a rising willingness to acknowledge it. Same-sex sexual activity has been heavily stigmatized in the U.S. and around the world for the past century. Though such prejudices have lessened of late, the “global closet” is still vast. A 2019 study estimated that five out of six people around the world who identify as lesbian, gay, or bisexual keep their orientations hidden from all or most of the people in their lives.
Bisexuality generally has been considered an invisible sexual orientation because bisexual individuals are often in monogamous relationships, so they simply appear either hetero- or homosexual. Moreover, bisexuality historically has been stigmatized by both heterosexual and homosexual individuals, who have insisted that it’s impossible to be sexually attracted to both sexes. In fact, genital arousal studies show that it is.
Trending
The upward trend in bisexuality in America seems set to continue, as over 6% of 18-29 year-olds but fewer than 2% of respondents over age 40 identified as bisexual in the latest data. Increasing content on social media, podcasts, and TV shows that dispel society’s overarching heteronormativity may be a factor. The abrupt shock of the COVID pandemic may also have played a role. In an interview with the BBC, New York City-based clinical psychologist Jennifer Guttman noted that of her 65 clients, 10 to 12 re-thought their sexuality during the global “reset,” compared to just one who had done so before the pandemic.
It’s time, once again, to post my annual pride posting.
In my lifetime I’ve witnessed a most remarkable change in societal attitudes toward those of us on the sexual fringe. One only needs to go back 50 years in time. I was 17 years old then and I knew I was queer. When I looked out on the world around me this is what I saw. Homosexuality was deemed a mental disorder by the nation’s psychiatric authorities, and gay sex was a crime in every state but Illinois. Federal workers could be fired merely for being gay.
Today, gays and trans folks serve openly in the military, work as TV news anchors and federal judges, win elections as big-city mayors and members of Congress. Popular TV shows have gay and trans protagonists.
Six years ago this month, a Supreme Court ruling lead to the legalization of same-sex marriage throughout the whole country.
The transition over five decades has been far from smooth — replete with bitter protests, anti-gay violence, backlashes that inflicted many political setbacks, and AIDS. Unlike the civil rights movement and the women’s liberation movement, the campaign for gay rights unfolded without household-name leaders.
And yet some still experience a backlash in the dominant culture. I don’t relish the idea, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention it. And while we endure this be reminded that it won’t smart nearly as much if we know our history. And we should also remember the immortal words of Martin Luther King, Jr. “The moral arc of the universe bends at the elbow of justice.”
In honor of gay pride month, a little sex history lesson — The Stonewall Riots
The confrontations between demonstrators and police at The Stonewall Inn, a mafia owned bar in Greenwich Village NYC over the weekend of June 27-29, 1969 are usually cited as the beginning of the modern Lesbian/Gay liberation Movement. What might have been just another routine police raid on a bar patronized by homosexuals became the pivotal event that sparked the entire modern gay rights movement.
The Stonewall riots are now the stuff of myth. Many of the most commonly held beliefs are probably untrue. But here’s what we know for sure.
In 1969, it was illegal to operate any business catering to homosexuals in New York City — as it still is today in many places in the world. The standard procedure was for New York City’s finest to raid these establishments on a regular basis. They’d arrest a few of the most obvious ‘types’ harass the others and shake down the owners for money, then they’d let the bar open as usual by the next day.
Myth has it that the majority of the patrons at the Stonewall Inn were black and Hispanic drag queens. Actually, most of the patrons were probably young, college-age white guys lookin for a thrill and an evening out of the closet, along with the usual cadre of drag queens and hustlers. It was reasonably safe to socialize at the Stonewall Inn for them, because when it was raided the drag queens and bull-dykes were far more likely to be arrested then they were.
After midnight June 27-28, 1969, the New York Tactical Police Force called a raid on The Stonewall Inn at 55 Christopher Street in NYC. Many of the patrons who escaped the raid stood around to witness the police herding the “usual suspects” into the waiting paddywagons. There had recently been several scuffles where similar groups of people resisted arrest in both Los Angeles and New York.
Stonewall was unique because it was the first time gay people, as a group, realized that what threatened drag queens and bull-dykes threatened them all.
Many of the onlookers who took on the police that night weren’t even homosexual. Greenwich Village was home to many left-leaning young people who had cut their political teeth in the civil rights, anti-war and women’s lib movements.
As people tied to stop the arrests, the mêlée erupted. The police barricaded themselves inside the bar. The crowd outside attempted to burn it down. Eventually, police reinforcements arrived to disperse the crowd. But this just shattered the protesters into smaller groups that continued to mill around the streets of the village.
A larger crowd assembled outside the Stonewall the following night. This time young gay men and women came to protest the raids that were commonplace in the city. They held hands, kissed and formed a mock chorus line singing; “We are the Stonewall Girls/We wear our hair in curls/We have no underwear/We show our pubic hair.” Don’t ‘cha just love it?
Police successfully dispersed this group without incident. But the print media picked up the story. Articles appeared in the NY Post, Daily News and The Village Voice. Theses helped galvanize the community to rally and fight back.
Within a few days, representatives of the Mattachine Society and the Daughters of Bilitis (two of the country’s first homophile rights groups) organized the city’s first ever “Gay Power” rally in Washington Square. Some give hundred protesters showed up; many of them gay and lesbians.
The riots led to calls for homosexual liberation. Fliers appeared with the message: “Do you think homosexuals are revolting? You bet your sweet ass we are!” And the rest, boys and girls, is as they say is history.
During the first year after Stonewall, a whole new generation of organizations emerged, many identifying themselves for the first time as “Gay.” This not only denoted sexual orientation, but a radical way to self-identify with a growing sense of open political activism. Older, more staid homophile groups soon began to make way for the more militant groups like the Gay Liberation Front.
The vast majority of these new activists were under thirty; dr dick’s generation, don’t cha know. We were new to political organizing and didn’t know that this was as ground-breaking as it was. Many groups formed on colleges campuses and in big cities around the world.
By the following summer, 1970, groups in at least eight American cities staged simultaneous events commemorating the Stonewall riots on the last Sunday in June. The events varied from a highly political march of three to five thousand in New York to a parade with floats for 1200 in Los Angeles. Seven thousand showed up in San Francisco.
A few years ago, an A was added to the end of the official queer acronym, making it LGBTQIA+. This was a huge moment for the asexual or “ace” community, as it was a sign that asexuality was becoming part of more mainstream conversations about queerness.
So much so, that you yourself have probably heard a lot more about asexuality in pop culture and in conversations over the last few years. But do you know what asexuality really means?
“Asexuality is surrounded by myths, and marked by a distinct lack of information, research and representation in mainstream society,” says sexologist and sex coach Georgia Grace. “Asexuality and being part of the ace community is traditionally defined as having no sexual attraction towards others or yourself. But like all areas of sexuality, asexuality can exist on a spectrum — it is a really individual experience.”
On this spectrum, we can broadly categorise three general “types” of asexuality that can help explain an asexual person’s relationship to sex.
Sex-repulsed asexual people are usually completely disinterested in the act or idea of sex. Sex-neutral asexuals are often those in relationships with non-asexual partners — generally, they aren’t closed off to the idea of sex and probably engage in it fairly regularly, but also don’t go out of their way to have sex with their partner/s. And finally, there are sex-positive asexuals, who enjoy having sex for physical pleasure but still don’t experience sexual attraction to others.
“There are also other related sexual orientations, like demisexuality, which means you can only feel sexual attraction after you already feel a close emotional bond with someone,” Grace explains. “And then there’s the ‘grey area’, which is a term for people who feel like asexuality almost describes them but isn’t quite right. There’s also homoaesthetic attraction, which is having a strong attraction to one gender that isn’t sexual — it may also be referred to as aesthetic attraction or platonic attraction.”
One of the bigger misconceptions about asexual people is that they don’t enjoy companionship or physical touch whatsoever. In reality, asexuality is just a new way of looking at people’s experiences and feelings towards sex and the value it has in our lives.
When it comes to dating, many asexual people still experience feelings of love and romance and desire a relationship (though, of course, others don’t enjoy it). For people who don’t experience romantic attraction but still feel sexual attraction, they might be better described as aromantic. But how does an asexual person successfully date or be in a relationship, especially if they’re dating a non-asexual person?
“Dating as an asexual person comes with its challenges, like managing social and cultural expectations as well as how you and others feel,” Grace explains. “One of the biggest misconceptions is that asexual people don’t want connections. In our broader discussion of asexuality, it’s useful to distinguish between attraction and desire — a distinction that I think is relevant for all of us to be aware of.”
In terms of where they differ, attraction is simply something that piques your interest. “For example, you see someone and can recognise that you are physically, emotionally, socially or sexually attracted to that person; and you find them compelling to look at or be around,” Grace says. Desire on the other hand is the urge or drive to have sex. “In the words of sexologist Kass Mourikis, ‘Desire is like a motivational system. It’s the reason or the meaning behind your draw to sex’,” Grace says.
“Desire and attraction can co-exist and they can be separate, depending on the context and people involved,” Grace says. “You can want to have sex but not be attracted to a particular person in that moment — or you can be really attracted to someone and not want to have sex with them. What’s important to remember is that both dynamics are human and normal.”
For asexual people in a relationship, sexual attraction to their partner may not be relevant to their sexual experiences, but they might still find themselves feeling desire for someone or something at different points in time. For others, they won’t desire it at all, but it doesn’t mean they can’t find a way to still enjoy physical intimacy with a non-asexual partner — like in any relationship, it’s about finding a happy medium between each other’s desires and interests, whilst always giving and receiving consent.
At the end of the day, being in a relationship with an asexual person is all about managing expectations, learning how each other likes to experience intimacy, and making space for new understandings around the prioritisation of sex and how this differs for people across the asexuality spectrum.
Ultimately, there are many different experiences of asexuality, and there’s a lot more to it than simply not having sex. The most important thing for anyone to understand about asexuality, though, is that asexual people can still have fulfilling relationships and experience physical pleasure.
— SF State prof sees reasons for rethinking LGBTQ history
San Francisco State University professor Marc Stein holds a copy of his new book, a second edition of “Rethinking the Gay and Lesbian Movement.”
by Brian Bromberger
For Marc Stein, professor of history at San Francisco State University, queer history is a calling, realizing he is part of a network and a community of gay intellectuals. Many U.S. college history departments don’t even define queer history as a bona fide field or it’s been ghettoized to a few classes, despite the fact courses in the subject are very popular with students. Even Stein is technically a historian of constitutional law and politics at SF State.
Stein has become an evangelist for the promotion of gay and lesbian history, rooted in his orientation as an activist. His passion for the field is exhibited in his newest book, a totally revised second edition of his 2012 classic, “Rethinking the Gay and Lesbian Movement,” (Routledge, $42.95) including a new chapter, “LGBT and Queer Activism Beyond 1990.” When he wrote the first edition his aim was to provide an up-to-date account of the movement that was “national in scope, comprehensive in chronology, and synthetic in ambition,” he noted.
In his book’s introduction, Stein lists the reason why gay and lesbian history needs to be rethought: to help address the widespread lack of knowledge about that history; to serve the needs of today’s gender and sexual dissidents, along with everyone who identifies with the movement’s agendas and aspirations; and to teach people about some of the major political and philosophical questions that have absorbed the U.S., such as what is meant when referring to freedom, liberty, equality, and democracy, especially pertinent in these politically partisan and divisive times.
Stein mentions that studying this history can help readers reflect on why some people become activists, why movements develop when and where they do, why they adopt particular strategies and goals, and why they rise and fall. He notes in the introduction that the book also underscores the historicity and variability of sex, gender, and sexuality, especially how these forces changed the movement and vice versa; shows how people can support those who are working to promote equality, freedom and justice in the 21st century; and finally, to show the interrelationship between political and cultural activism, which has promoted social change.
Stein, 59, discussed the new second edition with the Bay Area Reporter in an email interview, and explained why he decided to add the new chapter.
“As a gay man who was born in the 1960s and came of age in the 1980s, I’ve long been fascinated by the history of the 1950s, 1960s, and 1970s, the decades that most directly shaped the world I came to know in the 1980s,” Stein wrote. “I don’t think historians are particularly good at analyzing the present or the very recent past. Other types of scholars, including sociologists and political scientists, tend to focus on the present. But many publishers and many members of the public commonly want historians to include a ‘bring the story up to the present’ chapter or conclusion. I often teach my students that those chapters are commonly the weakest in historical studies. As I say in both editions of my ‘Rethinking’ book, that perspective haunted the writing of the book’s final chapter.
“In any case, I was pleased when Routledge informed me that my volume was one of the most successful in its social movements series and commissioned me to write a second edition. Since the original version was published before the U.S. Supreme Court’s same-sex marriage decisions and before the Trump era, the 2012 edition was outdated,” he added, referring to the high court’s Obergefell v. Hodges ruling in 2015 that legalized same-sex marriage nationwide and Donald Trump’s election as president in 2016.
“I originally was only going to substantially revise the final chapter, but because there’s been such great LGBT history scholarship about the pre-1990 era published in the last decade, I ended up revising the whole book. Because the post-1990 period now includes the Trump era, I was able to strengthen my arguments against historical narratives that assume that progress is linear and inevitable,” Stein stated.
Stein writes that the gay and lesbian movement has been replaced or superseded by LGBTQ and other movements in the post-1990s era. There’s even been controversy in the title of his book.
“My book’s title has been misunderstood as implying that I am anti-queer or that I don’t appreciate the broader coalition that we invoke when we refer to the LGBTQ+ movement,” he wrote in the email. “Nothing could be further from the truth. I helped found an early queer activist group, Queer Action, in Philadelphia in the early 1990s. My first book, published in 2000, offers critically queer perspectives on the history of gay and lesbian politics in Philadelphia. I have commonly used LGBT, LGBTQ, and queer as key terms in other projects. But as a historian, I believe it’s important to be true to the historical evidence of the periods we’re studying.”
Stein doesn’t think there was an LGBTQ+ movement before the 1990s, but rather a gay and lesbian movement.
“For most of the period from 1950 to 1990, the gay and lesbian movement functioned largely as just that; it was commonly anti-bisexual and anti-trans, even as bisexuals and trans people argued for the gay and lesbian movement to change,” Stein explained. “Bisexual and trans people were part of the gay and lesbian movement, but that doesn’t mean the movement prioritized their issues. People with disabilities were part of the movement, but we don’t talk about the [lesbian, gay, disabled] movement because the movement did not organize or understand itself that way.”
Stein stated that a largely autonomous trans movement started in the 1950s and 1960s, which he discusses in the book.
“Starting in the 1970s, there was a largely autonomous bisexual movement and I discuss that,” he stated. “We know of key episodes in the 1960s, 1970s, and 1980s when bisexual and trans activists pushed the gay and lesbian movement to be more inclusive; they commonly failed in those efforts until the 1990s. ‘Rethinking the Gay and Lesbian Movement’ devotes lots of attention to these issues, in some cases more so than other books that purport to cover LGBTQ+ history, but I try to avoid the problem of projecting today’s favored terms and concepts onto historical periods when they don’t work particularly well.”
People filled the Castro to celebrate the U.S. Supreme Court’s same-sex marriage decision on June 26, 2015.
Political coalitions
Stein is interested in the ways in which political coalitions come together and fall apart.
“I think the LGBTQ+ political coalition is a remarkable achievement; we should pay attention to how, why, and when it happened (and how, why, and when it did not include other groups that might have become part of the coalition but didn’t),” he wrote in the email. “I’m glad that since the 1990s we’ve developed a stronger LGBTQ+ political coalition; I just don’t believe that we should minimize the efforts that it required to make that happen. As for the future, movements come, go, change, adapt, and reconfigure themselves. It would be arrogant for anyone to assume that today’s language and today’s way of thinking will be embraced by future generations; haven’t we learned enough from the past to know better?”
Queer activism today
In characterizing the new queer activism of today, Stein stated that he resists the tendency to consign the pre-1990 movement to the dustbin of history.
“It shows that much of what queer activism values — celebration of gender and sexual dissidence; rejection of gender and sexual privilege; critiques of racism, sexism, capitalism, colonialism, and ableism; intersectional multiculturalism — existed in nascent form in the pre-1990 era,” Stein stated. “But something happened in the 1990s, when radically queer tendencies within larger LGBTQ+ worlds became more influential and powerful. This had happened before — in the immediate aftermath of Stonewall, for example, and in the second half of the 1980s, when radical AIDS activism emerged — but in the early 1990s there was a more sustained transformation, one that was significant enough that we now find it difficult to talk about the ‘gay and lesbian’ movement when we’re talking about post-1990 developments.”
Stein also talked about the gay and lesbian movement’s biggest success and failure.
“If we’re talking about the period from 1950 to 1990, I would say that the movement’s biggest success was changing mainstream and lesbian/gay ideas about lesbian/gay people,” he wrote in the email. “We could talk about concrete policy successes, including the 1973 declassification of homosexuality as a mental illness; the decriminalization of sodomy in half of the states in the 1960s, 1970s, and 1980s; the passage of sexual orientation anti-discrimination laws in many local and state jurisdictions in the 1970s and 1980s; and the emergence of lesbian/gay people as an important part of the Democratic Party’s electoral coalition in the same period. But underlying all of those policy successes was lesbian/gay political mobilization, which transformed mainstream and lesbian/gay consciousness about gender and sexuality.
“As for the biggest failure, I think the movement was more successful at combating anti-homosexual bias, discrimination, and prejudice than it was in challenging heteronormative privilege,” Stein stated. “The movement succeeded to some extent at convincing many straight people to adopt ‘live and let live’ philosophies, but not at forcing straight people to renounce their special rights and privileges or encouraging everyone to come out. More concretely, I think the movement of 1950 to 1990 failed at transforming the country’s educational system, which continues to relentlessly reproduce heterosexuality, heteronormativity, and gender normativity.”
Current backlash
Stein was asked how to interpret the rash of anti-trans legislation sweeping across the country and whether it’s a backlash to the queer movement’s successes.
“I think in part we can see the rise of anti-trans legislation as an example of backlash politics, and the particular type of backlash politics that bullies some of the most vulnerable components of a disenfranchised community,” Stein stated. “Without the trans-affirmative reforms that occurred in the 1990s, 2000s, and 2010s, I don’t think we would be seeing the anti-trans backlash that we are seeing in the 2020s. But, there’s also something else going on that relates to the politics of conservatism, populist conservatism, and fascism, in and beyond the United States.
“In the 1960s and 1970s, key conservative leaders in the United States made critical decisions about the future of their electoral coalition,” he explained. “Faced with the prospects of permanent political marginalization, foreign policy and economic conservatives formed coalitions with religious and social conservatives, most notably in the Christian right. By the Trump era, the culturally reactionary tail was wagging the economically conservative dog. Anti-trans politics, like anti-Black and Brown, anti-abortion, and anti-immigrant politics, works by deluding working-class and middle-class white people into thinking that their interests are aligned with corporate America, traditional values, and strong-man authoritarianism rather than with broad-based democratic coalitions of the dispossessed.”
Stein also discussed the current effort on the right to ban books in schools and libraries, including many on LGBTQ topics.
“I think this is all about so-called child protection. For centuries, we’ve seen gender and sexual conservatives weaponize ideas of “child protection” to further their aims,” Stein wrote in the email. “We’ve also seen them instigate ‘moral panics,’ where popular sentiment is mobilized to address problems that are exaggerated far beyond empirically valid foundations.
“In the past, cultural discourses about sexual ‘perverts’ and gender ‘deviants’ played up the innocence of youth, who were seen as vulnerable to enticement, grooming, recruitment, and seduction,” Stein stated. “This led, for example, to the passage of ‘sexual psychopath’ laws in many states in the 1930s, 1940s, and 1950s. In the 1970s, similar dynamics led to Anita Bryant’s ‘Save Our Children’ campaign against sexual orientation anti-discrimination laws and to California’s Briggs initiative, which targeted LGBT teachers and their allies.”
Stein talked about work he has done.
“In one of my recent research projects, published this spring in the journal Law and Social Inquiry, I showed that in the 1970s, students at 14 U.S. colleges and universities, including two California State Universities, had to go to court when their institutions denied formal recognition to newly established lesbian/gay student groups; one of the common justifications offered by school administrators was that vulnerable young people might be tempted to try out homosexuality if there were officially recognized lesbian/gay student groups,” he explained.
Parallels
Stein sees many parallels between what is occurring today with what happened in the 1970s.
“In both cases, social and cultural conservatives responded to gender and sexual liberalization by attempting to freak people out with moral panics,” he stated. “Unfortunately, many media outlets play into conservative hands by reporting relentlessly on issues that are framed in reactionary terms. Today, for example, we rarely hear about the seven states that have mandated LGBT history education in public education [including California]; we rarely hear empowering stories about drag queen story hours; we rarely hear about the joys of athletic competition from the perspectives of young trans people and their allies.
“We also don’t hear about the ways in which social and cultural conservatives want our children to be taught rigid and inflexible ways of thinking about gender and sexuality — we don’t hear, for example, about the ways in which traditional educational practices offer up narrow and propagandistic lessons about gender identities and sexual orientation,” he added. “It would be fascinating to see what would happen if the states that are banning public school lessons about gender identity and sexual orientation actually were true to that notion — imagine a future world in which ‘boys’ were not taught to be ‘boys,’ ‘girls’ were not taught to be ‘girls,’ and children were not taught to be straight!
“As for book banning in particular, this arises in all of the contexts I’ve just mentioned, but it also arises in the context of declining support for public education in the United States, attacks on colleges and universities, and anti-intellectualism in public discourse,” Stein stated. “LGBTQ+ liberals and leftists should be mobilizing to support public education, not just to defend LGBTQ+ interests. Beyond that, I would just add that it’s a little bizarre to be focusing on banning books at this particular historical moment, when information is increasingly shared in forms other than books.”
Effort to silence queer history
Stein is concerned about the silencing of queer history in school curriculums.
“First, I would encourage us not to ignore the seven states that have mandated LGBT history education in public schools. When’s the last time we read a mainstream media report (or even a queer media report) about how that’s going or how things are going in the next set of states that will do likewise?”
Stein mentioned Florida’s “Don’t Say Gay” law, which Republican Governor and presidential candidate Ron DeSantis signed last year that bans discussion of homosexuality or gender identity in schools through the third grade. Recently, DeSantis signed a law extending the ban through eighth grade — and the Florida Board of Education expanded the limiting of classroom instruction through 12th grade.
“As for what’s going on in more conservative states, I wrote a satirical piece recently for the History News Network that praised “R. DeSantis” for banning lessons about gender and sexuality in public schools. I was trying to get at what I hope will prove to be a legal fatal flaw in these policy initiatives,” Stein wrote. “We commonly refer to these laws as ‘don’t say gay,’ but they’re more than that: they ban lessons about gender identity and sexual orientation, which presumably means that public schools should no longer be teaching boys to be boys, girls to be girls, or all people to be straight. Imagine a second grader who asks which bathroom to use; under Florida’s new laws, the teacher should be prohibited from answering. And the laws have to be framed in theoretically neutral ways, or they would be vulnerable to First and 14th Amendment challenges based on free speech and equal protection. If interpreted literally, these laws ban teaching youth about gender and sexual normativity, just as they ban teaching youth about LGBTQ+ identities and orientations.”
Stein stated that as a college professor, the bans don’t really affect him. But he has other concerns.
“As someone who teaches in the post-secondary education sector in California, I’m not concerned about those types of bans,” he stated. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t have ongoing concerns about how we teach LGBTQ+ history in colleges and universities. My university seems to be happy to have a set of specialized courses on LGBTQ+ topics. But do colleges and universities have ways to encourage faculty who teach courses on other topics to be more inclusive of LGBTQ+ issues? Do my colleagues who teach introductory history courses incorporate LGBTQ+ history into their classes? I honestly don’t know.”
The future
Stein discussed the future of the queer movement.
“I’ll say that asking a historian to talk about the future is like asking a doctor to draw up architectural plans for a new house,” he stated. “I know this: there’s much more work to be done. My book’s new conclusion references a whole series of recent commentators who contend that the LGBTQ+ movement is finished, having succeeded in accomplishing all of its major goals. And these are not comedians. I’d like to see the movement broaden out, forming effective coalitions with other gender and sexual dissidents. I’d like to see the movement more effectively utilize creative direct action protests and mass grassroots mobilization. I’d like to see the movement focus more on education.”
Last year, Stein authored his “Queer Public History: Essays on Scholarly Activism” (University of California Press, $29.95). He defines himself as a queer scholarly activist. He explained that role.
“My ‘Queer Public History’ book reprints more than 30 essays that I’ve written for general rather than scholarly audiences, some for LGBTQ+ newspapers such as the B.A.R.,” he stated. “It also reflects on how queer publics nourished LGBTQ+ history projects, long before there was a place for LGBTQ+ history in college and university history departments. I use the notion of scholarly activism in a few different ways. It refers to the use of research for activist purposes; it refers to the activism that was necessary to make a place for LGBTQ+ studies within higher education, academic disciplines, and scholarly associations. I’ve been engaging in that work for decades and I used ‘Queer Public History’ to reflect on that.”
Accolades
Stein recently has received two accolades recognizing his role and contribution to both academic and public history.
“In January, gay public historian Jonathan Ned Katz selected me to replace him as the director of the OutHistory website,” he stated. “One of my first major exhibits on OutHistory, since becoming its director, is a study I completed with my students that documents more than 600 LGBT direct action protests from 1965 to 1973; we’re now working on expanding the study to cover 1974-76.”
The B.A.R. reported on the direct action history study when it was released in March.
“Then in April, the Organization of American Historians, which represents thousands of U.S. historians, nominated me to become its president in several years,” Stein stated. “If elected this fall (and I’m the only candidate, so I’ll be very embarrassed if I lose!), I’ll be the first president whose work has focused primarily on LGBTQ+ history and the first to come from the California State University system. I see the nomination as a statement about an entire generation of us who succeeded in using scholarly activism to make a place for LGBTQ+ history in primary, secondary, and post-secondary education.”
Ultimately, Stein believes that rethinking the history of the U.S. gay and lesbian and LGBTQ movements should lead to a more general rethinking of U.S. history.
“This will likely only occur if more students, teachers, and scholars engage in political activism to change the ways in which history is learned and taught in primary, secondary, and postsecondary educational institutions,” Stein stated. “It might mean trying to convince LGBT, queer, gender, and sexuality studies programs to make the history of political activism more central in their courses and curricula. And it might mean developing new ways to promote critical thinking about LGBT and queer history outside the classroom: in libraries and museums, on television and the internet, in film and video, and in various other venues. In other words, we need a new movement to rethink history.”
As kids we’re always taught the world is black and white. There are men and women. Certain characteristics make men masculine and women feminine. There are no in-betweens.
It couldn’t be further from the truth.
Between these black-and-white boundaries lies a whole other colourful world. Men who love men, women who love women, men who love both men and women — the list goes on. While queer rights may have been taken lightly a few decades ago, there’s a lot more awareness around the LGBTQIA community today.
Even those who don’t fully understand the meaning of LGBTQIA+ or the fluidity of gender are willing to learn and educate themselves.
The LGBTQIA+ community encompasses diverse sexual orientations and gender identities, fostering a rich tapestry of love and individuality. As society progresses towards greater acceptance and inclusivity, it becomes essential to understand the various terms and orientations within the LGBTQIA+ spectrum.
Here’s everything you need to know about sexual orientations within the LGBTQIA+ community.
What Is The Full Form Of LGBTQIA+?
LGBTQIA+ is an acronym built up from the following words:
L- Lesbian
G- Gay
B- Bisexual
T- Transgender
I- Intersex
A- Asexual
+ – Holds space for expanding and understanding different parts of the very diverse gender and sexual identities.
Now, let us delve into the meanings and nuances of different sexual orientations, shedding light on the beautiful diversity of love.
1. Lesbians
Lesbians are women who are emotionally, romantically, or sexually attracted to other women. Lesbian individuals face unique challenges and experiences, from societal stigmatisation to the struggle for recognition and acceptance. Despite these obstacles, lesbian individuals have made significant contributions to art, culture, and activism, enriching the LGBTQIA+ community and inspiring others to embrace their authentic selves.
Films like Badhaai Do and Ek Ladki Ko Dekha Toh Aisa Laga are great examples of cinema depicting lesbian relationships truthfully.
Gay relationships are those where men are emotionally, romantically, or sexually attracted to other men. This sexual orientation has been widely recognised and celebrated in pop culture and cinema in recent years. Gay individuals have played a pivotal role in shaping the fight for LGBTQIA+ rights, pushing for greater acceptance, and challenging societal norms. Their experiences, struggles, and triumphs serve as a testament to the strength and resilience of the LGBTQIA+ community.
Films like Aligarh, Kapoor & Sons, and Shubh Mangal Zyada Saavdhan are some of the best examples of Bollywood portraying gay relationships beautifully.
3. Bisexuals
Bisexuality refers to individuals who are attracted to both their own gender and other genders. Bisexual individuals experience a spectrum of attractions, embracing the potential for emotional and romantic connections with people of various gender identities. Bisexuality challenges the traditional binary understanding of sexuality, recognising the fluidity and complexity of human desire.
They also face some unique challenges, such as biphobia and erasure, as their experiences often intersect with stereotypes and misconceptions. Understanding and embracing bisexuality is crucial in fostering a more inclusive and supportive environment for all members of the LGBTQIA+ community.
4. Transgender
Just to be clear, transgender is a gender identity and has nothing to do with one’s sexual orientation. Transgender individuals do not identify with the gender assigned to them at birth. They may undergo gender-affirming processes, such as hormone therapy or gender confirmation surgery, to align their physical appearance with their gender identity.
They face significant challenges, including discrimination, lack of healthcare access, and societal misunderstanding. Their sexual orientation is as fluid as the rest of the queer community. They could be attracted to men, women or other trans people. Vani Kapoor played a trans character opposite Ayushmann Khurrana in Chandigarh Kare Aashiqui in one of the few honest portrayals of the trans community.
5. Queer
Queer is an umbrella term that encompasses individuals who do not conform to traditional sexual orientations or gender identities. It serves as an inclusive label for those who feel their experiences fall outside the boundaries of heterosexual or cisgender identities. Queer individuals challenge societal norms and embrace their authentic selves, contributing to the diverse fabric of the LGBTQIA+ community.
6. Intersex
Intersex is an umbrella term used to describe individuals who are born with biological sex characteristics that do not fit typical male or female categories. Intersex variations can manifest in various ways, such as chromosomal, hormonal or anatomical differences.
Intersex individuals have diverse experiences and identities and it is essential to respect their autonomy and self-identification. The intersex community advocates for recognition, medical human rights, and an end to unnecessary and non-consensual medical interventions.
7. Asexual
Asexual individuals experience little to no sexual attraction towards others. Asexuality is a valid and natural orientation within the LGBTQIA+ spectrum, highlighting the wide range of human experiences and desires.
Asexual individuals may still form deep emotional connections, experience romantic attraction, and engage in fulfilling relationships without sexual components. Understanding and respecting asexuality is vital in creating an inclusive environment that values diverse forms of love and companionship.
It is crucial for us to continue educating ourselves and fostering inclusivity in order to create a world where everyone feels safe, supported, and celebrated for who they are. From understanding the meaning of LGBTQIA+ to delving into the intricacies of different sexual orientations and gender identities, it’s a constant learning process we need to be actively involved in.
The LGBTQIA+ community encompasses a beautiful tapestry of different sexual orientations and gender identities, each deserving of understanding, acceptance and respect.
Transgender people are more common than you might think. Being transgender is not a trend, and it’s not new. Trans people have existed throughout history and will continue to be an important part of our society.
>But depending on where you live, you might not meet many openly transgender individuals in your day-to-day life. So, let’s take a closer look at this vibrant community!
According to this 2022 report from UCLA’s School of Law Williams Institute, 1.6 million people ages 13 years and up identify as transgender in the United States. This means that approximately 1.4% of the U.S. population is transgender!
Some research also shows that this number is growing, as around 5% of young adults identify as transgender. They found that the community further breaks down as follows:
As far as the world population goes, the country’s statistics for the number of trans people can range anywhere from 0.6–3%. The highest numbers of trans people are reported in countries Germany and Sweden.
Why does it seem like there are more trans people nowadays?
When we see the growing representation of trans people in social and mainstream media, it’s important to remember that people will feel more comfortable living openly and freely when there’s a more supportive environment, more resources, and less criminalization for being themselves.
As societal support grows and discrimination decreases, it’s likely we’ll see the reported number of transgender people rise until its natural level is revealed. Far from being a sign of indoctrination, this is a sign of a healthy society that we’ve seen in other areas before.
One popular example of this has been coined the “Left Handed Argument.” In the past, left-handedness was treated as a “sin” and highly stigmatized within society. Those who were naturally left-handed were encouraged or forced to use their right hand dominantly. This discrimination often found its way into our language and religious beliefs as well.
When society no longer believed that being left-handed was the work of “the devil” and stopped training everyone at school to use their right hand in the mid-20th century, for many decades we saw the reported number of left-handed people grow.
Now in the 21st century, the reports have leveled off and we know that about 10% of the population is naturally left-handed. It’s likely that we’ll see similar patterns as we learn the natural level of the transgender population in an accepting society.
How common is it to detransistion?
According to this comprehensive study from LGBTQ HealthTrusted Source, 13.1% of currently identified transgender people have detransitioned at some point. However, 82.5% of those who have detransitioned list their reason for doing so as external factors such as pressure from family, non-affirming school environments, and increased vulnerability to violence (including sexual assault).
These statistics are confirmed by Fenway Health. Their participants reported the following reasons for detransitioning:
pressure from a parent (35.5%)
pressure from their community or societal stigma (32.5%)
trouble finding a job (26.8%)
fluctuations in their gender identity or desire (10.4%)
pressure from medical health professionals (5.6%)
pressure from religious leaders (5.3%)
doubts about their gender identity (2.4%)
So, it’s not entirely uncommon to detransition but there are many reasons why people might choose to do so, especially due to dangerous and unforgiving environments. This doesn’t necessarily mean that these people stop feeling gender dysphoria, but they aren’t in the right space to transition (socially, medically, or legally) at the time.
Continuing your education
You might be asking yourself, “But what does ‘trans’ really mean?” Or even, “Am I transgender?” This is a nuanced and complex topic, and it’s natural to have lots of questions. Here are some resources that can help you find answers:
Being transgender isn’t that uncommon anymore. 1.6 million people (1–2%) in the U.S. identify as transgender. Worldwide current numbers range between 0.6–3%. Reported numbers are proportionally higher in young people and may continue to grow in the years to come.
With more of the transgender population coming out, it’s pertinent that the medical care and social stigma in society should improve. This stigma hurts the physical and mental health of trans people and can lead to people detransitioning because of harsh and unsupportive environments.
There have been many anti-trans sentiments and bills in the U.S. lately, but many health professionals and child welfare organizations oppose the anti-LGBTQ bills, specifically those that target trans youth. This Pride Month, June 2023, it’s more important than ever to support and celebrate gender diversity in your life and all year long.
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