On queer aesthetics and not feeling ‘queer enough’
By: Emma H
I once dated a person with terrifying friends. They were loud and confrontational and—in my eyes—terrifying. Still, I was in love, so I made the effort to get to know them. They all hung out in one of those big, run-down share houses where anything goes. They threw massive parties fueled with drugs and sexual tension. Modesty was a sin and shock a virtue.
“Do you like girls as well?” A big, tough-looking blonde asked me at one such party.
I hesitated, unsure how to answer. I didn’t like girls or boys necessarily. I liked people, and a very select few of them at that. My partner, who was masc-identifying at the time, cut in.
“Nah, she’s the token straight girl,” they said. And that was that.
We had never spoken about it before, but they had taken authority on the topic. In that moment, surrounded by people who expressed themselves with such certain abandon, I felt unsure of my own identity. How could I be queer and yet so out of place amongst my people?
“It’s this feeling that I’m not authentic enough, I suppose,” one Reddit user wrote, confessing to the inadequacy they feel in queer circles. It’s somewhat ironic that these divulgences are just that—raw, confessional and undeniably authentic.
I wonder how much of it comes down to pure aesthetics. While I’m all for non-normative relationship structures, I don’t look radical. I work in a corporate setting and dress the part. Apart from some bleach and a little underarm hair, I’m repellingly mainstream.
Being perceived as the ‘token straight girl’ is also an issue for my friend Sarah*, who dates women nearly exclusively.
“I went out with this one girl, and she asked me if I was ‘new to this’. Then, on our second date, she asked me if I had ever been with a girl before. She said she needed to know how slow to take things. I told her I had, and she asked how many. I know she was just trying to be respectful, but it was pretty condescending.”
Femininity is complicated. Despite not shaving and rarely wearing make-up, I perform it well. Still, conforming to gendered stereotypes or normative standards of beauty doesn’t make me more or less queer. I do see the irony in talking about the downsides of fitting mainstream ideas of gender and beauty. Though in queer spaces it does feel like a point of contention.
Don’t misread me, radical self-expression—along with the deconstruction of what gender can and should be—is great. It’s brave, it’s empowering and it’s liberating to so many queer people. It’s important work and it needs to be done. But while we’re doing that work, we shouldn’t leave people feeling as though they aren’t “queer enough” to enter safe spaces and explore their identities, too.
I’m attracted to people of all genders. I find diverse self-expression a beautiful and desirable trait in others. Tattoos, wild hair, piercings—I love them all. But it’s not essential. I don’t feel the need to explore my identity in the same way. When we reduce our identities down to an aesthetic, as liberating as that aesthetic may be, we also risk commodifying it.
Limiting the narratives around expressing queerness also limits the diversity and fluidity of the queer community. Thinking that someone needs to look and act a certain way ignores the fact that every kind of gender, sexuality or identity presentation is, in some way, a performance. While some of these performances may not be deliberate or subversive, they are still valid. And they show, in some small way, that the reach of queerness extends far beyond what we look like, what we say or what we do.
As my partner grew to understand my sexuality better, they stopped calling me straight. But they never stopped trying to label the space that I existed in. I was either a project—something that needed queering, that needed a push to become its true self—or my queerness was ‘a phase’ that I needed to experiment with to get out of my system.
In the end I was never authentic enough.
Sarah felt the same way. “I don’t like feeling like I have to prove my stripes,” she said, “It was like I had to be an accredited lesbian™.”
Along with the constant process of coming out that so many gay, bi, queer and trans people face in a heteronormative world, we also face constantly having to prove our identity — both within queer communities and outside them. Instead of feeling like we have to prove ourselves within queer communities, let’s work to fully accept each other. There’s no criteria or litmus test for being who we are. So let’s just be ourselves, unashamedly.
Yeah I relate to this and I’m pretty depressed about it. I’m a trans man who once thought I was a lesbian and identified as such. So being a lesbian and presenting in a very butch way and getting told by all the straight people “you need to be more feminine” pissed me off a lot. Cut to a few years later when I figured out I was a guy and I was like “ugh thank god I can finally be myself and present how I want”. NOPE! NOW all the other queers jump down my throat for an explanation every time I don’t want to paint my nails or wear makeup or something like being trans (and gay, it turns out) isn’t queer enough! “You must just have internalized transphobia” or “that’s misogynistic” or even “why do you hate women?” (In reference to being attracted to men) is stuff I’ve seen about people like me. It all reeks of the comphet crap that was already crammed down my throat for 30+ years. Like sorry I’m a bad queer, but I’m going to live my life and this is how I want to live it! The thing is like I will OPENLY AND LOUDLY CELEBRATE gender non conforming people. But that’s just not me. But that’s not good enough for the REAL GAYS. And if I don’t out myself at every turn and wave my gay credentials in the air, everyone assumes I’m cis and straight. It drives me up an absolute wall because I’m NOT and so there is a sense of belonging and understanding I’m simply never going to be able to have with the cis straight people I meet. It’s something I desperately want a queer community for, but I’m never in the “in crowd” unless, ironically, I compromise my authenticity and present myself in a way that’s uncomfortable or pretend to like things I don’t. And then honestly what’s even the point?
Great article!!!! I too have the noticed social competition, hypocrisy and lateral violence within our wonderful queer “community”. Don’t worry about fitting in. Just be yourself. Also, noticed that many of the popular people that put themselves in the forefront of “the queer community” tend to come from a lot of privilege- intact families, great degrees their parents paid for, tons of support all while claiming to be working class.
It sounds like you have a lot of personal insecurities tied up in homophobia and misogyny and you should really address that instead of projecting onto other queer people. Your feelings are valid and it’s totally normal to experience this kind of “imposter syndrome” but that isn’t other gay and trans people’s fault. Sit down and analyze why you feel queer people living their life and trying to respect your boundaries is so “terrifying” to you.
R- The problem is queer people aren’t just living their lives and respecting other’s boundaries- they’re actively judging and excluding others. There’s a book called Excluded: On Making Queer Communities More Inclusive by Julia Serrano which talks about these issues. Original poster sounds a little young and I could see how it might come off as offensive to some. Beyond that, Emma is talking about something deeper. The palpable judgement at many queer gatherings… who has the right edgy look, who is “femme” in the right way, who is acceptably queer enough, who has the right job. Also in queer communities I’ve noticed many people with tons of privilege posing as working class or throwing up some faux working class radical narrative.
Here’s what I don’t get: you talk about feeling ‘not queer enough’ due to conforming to gender roles and not being accepted in certain circles, which I think is a real problem and a feeling that a lot of people can relate to.
But then you opened this article by describing a bunch of queer gender non-conforming people as “terrifying” and complaining about how overly-sexual and loud and aggressive they are. Do you not see the contradiction here? This isn’t a one-way street. There are queer femmes (really, ‘femme’ is for queers to begin with, but that’s neither here nor there) who receive a lot of disrespect that they absolutely don’t deserve and who struggle a lot with this issue, but most of them have respect and love for gender non-conforming queer people. You, on the other hand, talk the commodification of aesthetics — but then you praise the so-called radical aesthetic while expressing disgust towards the actual human beings who rock it!
You don’t have to love the radical aesthetic in order to be queer. You don’t have to wear it, you don’t have to be attracted to it, you don’t have to have anything to do with it. But you do have to love and respect the people who do wear it, in whatever form. No offense, but ‘queer’ is not a term that belongs to people who are afraid of queers who are loud, pissed off, openly sexual, broke, wild, addicted, or otherwise not ‘respectable.’ I don’t really care if you hate us, but find another word to describe yourself if you do. Or better yet, don’t, and take a moment to seriously examine the way you talk about gender non-conforming people, because I don’t think you even realize how hateful it is.
Yes I agree with this so much! I hate to read articles/hear opinions like this.. so blatantly homophobic under the guise of being progressive!! only thing is femme is a lesbian specific term, not for all ‘queers’, just something I feel is important to add since many people don’t understand this and it’s actually quite frustrating.
Thanks, Emma, I really loved this article. It speaks to many issues that I think seem very little discussed in the LGBTIQ circles I move around and within. Being ‘queer enough’ is surely something that crosses one’s mind – especially when you don’t fit ‘the look’ or bear the socio-economic or cultural attributes of ‘the group’.
As a transwoman who most people – maybe everyone? – doesn’t ‘see’ as Trans, who has a senior academic career, family, almost entirely cis, heteronormative peer network, I kind of find myself the subject of certain evaluations about my validity as a member of the LGBTIQ community – at times.
In short, I feel like the judgement occasionally is that I have too many mainstream straight friends, connections, and personal attributes to be a ‘card carrying member’ of the LGBTIQ community.
In fact, once in discussing my research, I was seriously asked by a Transwoman who was present why a ‘straight, middle-aged, academic’ thought she had any special insights in the lives of Transpeople (my research topic). In short, I was challenged to explain how I could know anything about what it really means to be Trans. Disclosing my ‘credentials’ (yes, yes, and outing myself!) in reply was an interesting moment for my interrogator. But is also probably a salutary reminder that even in the ‘community’ there are privileges accorded to those who ‘bear the signs’ of membership and those who don’t!
Thanks again. Great article.
I have struggled with this so much being born female, being genderqueer, letting people misgender me, but just learning how to even come off as “lesbian”, and even reading books on queer identity, etc. There needs to be more pieces like this.
A thought — others can take it or leave it as they wish but as a gay man I have almost never seen this discourse (I wish I looked more gay/less mainstream) in my circles of gay friends. Though I’m sure it’s out there, much more pervasive in my experience is queer men (specifically gay men) proud of looking straight… so what gives for this difference? I can’t help but wonder if in the queer community men desiring to look mainstream and women rejecting the mainstream, while seemingly opposite, are both partly guided by a rejection of femininity — and a perception of masculinity as better
I am sending this article and your comment to my feminist friend who insists I should cut my hair. That is insightful commentary! I really think you’re on to something.
I wish everyone would remember that Queer is a word we used to suffer for. Twenty years ago, longer, when it was illegal to be several kinds of Queer. Queer was edgy and dangerous. Queer had to have armor and spikes because it was under threat, not because it wanted to look sexy. But that is why Queer is sexy. Queer is brave and bold. Not obnoxious, not self-interested, not vain, not commercial — it’s from before the Internet sold things. It’s from before the internet at all.
If Queer doesn’t honor those things anymore, it’s lost its value. It’s about risk and courage and survival. Does Queer no longer need to be brave? Then it isn’t Queer.
Queer is a hero of the wars. A statue now, if that’s what it has to be to keep its form.
Queer is like Democracy or Enlightenment or Reformation. It’s not a fashion or even an identity. It’s an idea.
@evan. THANK YOU for writing this! I’m totally with you.
hey,
great article… but me and also lots of people around me have a “problem”thing, which we discuss a lot acctually and I think it has something to do with the theme of this article
I don t want to bring any solution or clear opinion cause I don t have both. I would be happy if lots of people would think about it. maybe that brings up some ideas 🙂
LGBTQ Spaces/ Cis-menfree spaces (like Safespaces, or LGBTQ-people-to-the-front-concerts….) should create a space for “us” that “we” get the place which we don t have and espiacially, that we have a save room where “we” can be ourselve whithout the constant stress/fear/trigger etc. from cismale-people… that is without any questions essential and superimportant.
A problem in this concept/places is, that queer people who dont dress in “DRAG” or “queer” but enter a safe space might trigger people/make people uncomfy etc.
on the other hand I can imagine that it is terrible for a trans or queer person, when they get send away or pushed back and called cis-man…
I hope it was understandable what I ment. I would like to hear some experiences or ideas, cause I think this is not such a special thing as it sounds in the descriptiion and might happen quite often
Thank you for your article! It has make my whole week. This process has been rewarding, liberating, painful, and scary. These are some of the questions I have when going to a queer event or meeting new queers. What about if they do not accept me either? What if what I said is judged as ignorant or incorrect?, what about if I look too straight? What if I do not ideally fit in in their queer aesthetics and concept? So many questions, so many fears. At the end we want to be ourselves!. Withing the activism world and the queerness world, I keep asking myself, how much of our aesthetics keep defying who we are?
Yeah, the whole “queerer than thou” thing got on my nerves for the longest time, and kind of still does to a certain extent, because it’s used by a lot of (mostly white) queer people to establish their “coolness”, cliques, and a pecking order in the LGBT community.
Like, some of us have a hard enough time getting a job and don’t have advanced Seven Sisters degrees to work in nonprofits, and we don’t have the money or the luxury to invest in a “look”.
‘ Still, conforming to gendered stereotypes or normative standards of beauty doesn’t make me more or less queer. ‘
That word, “conforming”, bothers me. Choosing that word implies that one is actively seeking to mold oneself to be acceptable, when very often it is simply the result of a lack of artifice.
Gender and sexuality is not a performance. To view life as such is completely misleading and reckless.
The same point could easily be made without referencing to a person’s being as a performance. Incredibly naive.
How can a community that has flourished around the principle and ideal that we are unique be subjected to criticism and judgement based off “not being enough” or “Not meeting a standard.” We are the people of no standards who represent what it means to NOT perform. This is our life. It’s not a performance.
Other than that reference it’s an incredibly insightful article. You do not need to empower queer people through the means of a performance.
@Jerald I see why you are offended by the comment about performing gender, and I’m glad you pointed it out because now I will know to be more careful when I am on that subject myself. When I read that comment, I think I understood the author’s intended meaning which got lost in semantics. All gender is performative, queer and straight, trans and cis, because gender isn’t an inherent quality to a human, it is a social construct. That can probably be extrapolated to sexuality too, but my brain is too tired to do the necessary queerithmatic this late in the evening. That’s not to say that gender and sexuality aren’t real, or that we’re just making a spectacle of ourselves (in the sense of that ‘they’re just doing it for attention’ narrative that is used against us so frequently), it’s the other definition of perform at work, which I will grab from google; not “present (a form of entertainment) to an audience” but “carry out, accomplish, or fulfill (an action, task, or function.” I hope that makes sense.
Thanks for writing this. I feel like this too, always thinking I’m not ‘gay’ enough now that I’m married to a man (and am a cis female).
I feel this so much, particularly at this point in my life. I’m poly and pan, but my primary partner is male, straight and monogamous. I constantly get told that I don’t have the right to my own identity based off of those of my partner (thankfully not by him though)
Thank you for writing this. Sometimes I feel that pressure myself. I don’t wear makeup most days, but I really pass as femme and have dated more men than other genders, so sometimes I feel I have really work hard at proving myself!
As a heterosexual being, I have the luxury of just being myself, quite unashamedly. I don’t think I fit the stereotypical 50+ image, and have not felt any desire to.
As a young person I did feel a need to fit in with my peers, but by the age of 20 I was very much doing my own thing and have never looked back. Confidence about who you are grows with making your own positive experiences, not mirroring your peers. If you feel you don’t belong with a group of people trust your gut instinct, and move on to find people you do feel at home with. Trust me you’ll be glad you did. But to do so you have to be yourself, not somebody else’s perception of you.