Next stop: Love, Respect, and Gratitude.
Slow progress
Whilst societal progress has been made to alleviate oppression and promote gender and sexual equality, significant hurdles still exist in the LGBTQIA+ community. As of 2021, there are still 71 countries that have laws criminalising homosexuality. This includes ‘private, consensual, same-sex activity’. Out of these 71 countries, 43 criminalise ‘lesbianism’ (sexual relations between women), 15 criminalise the identity and expression of transgender people and in 11 countries, there is the possibility that consensual, same-sex sexual activity carried out in private is punishable by the death penalty. Most of these countries are found in the Middle East, Africa and Asia.
I was horrified and sickened to find out that this was still the case in so many countries around the world. Maybe I was just being naïve to think that things had changed and that society had become more accepting of people being able to express their gender, sexuality and true selves however they pleased. It also made me more grateful than words can ever describe that I live in a country where I can express myself freely and be surrounded by friends and family who love me, regardless of my sexuality or gender identity. Whilst homosexuality may not be criminalised here in the UK, it was not until 2014 that the Marriage (Same Sex Couples) Act 2013 came into force and same sex marriage didn’t become legal in Northern Ireland until 2020. It just goes to show that progress can be painfully and unfairly slow, but I am optimistic that we are moving in the right direction towards equality, freedom of expression, and acceptance.
"It was not until recently that I realised how much societal norms have played a role in my upbringing, even if I didn’t want them to."
Social norms and train journeys
I have always found societal norms tedious and tried my best not to abide by them just for the sake of fitting in or being popular. However, it was not until recently that I realised how much societal norms have played a role in my upbringing, even if I didn’t want them to. I remember being quite young when I had just started school and we would play families. A boy was always the dad, and a girl was always the mum. No other scenarios were suggested and we never questioned it. If a boy and a girl were good friends, classmates, teachers and even parents would ask ‘Is he your boyfriend?’ or ‘Is she your girlfriend?’. They meant it in an innocent, jokey way, but if two boys were friends there would never be a suggestion of them being boyfriends in the romantic sense and the same with two female friends. In children’s’ books, films, cartoons, television shows, songs etc. all the relationships mentioned were heterosexual and all the characters were cis-gendered (at least that was the case for me). Even as an adult, if the topic of partners came up, I was always asked: ‘Do you have a boyfriend?’. There was never any suggestion that my partner would be anything other than male. I grew up thinking I was cis-gendered and heterosexual and it wasn’t until I got to university that that changed. I realise not everyone will have this experience, as many people will have recognised from a very young age that they didn’t identify with those labels. I started to realise that sexuality was not black or white for me, but was much more of a spectrum onto which everyone falls differently. One analogy which I have come across and liked is comparing sexuality to a train journey. Some people are at ‘gay station’, others are at ‘bi station’, some are at ‘straight station’, just to name a few of the many ‘sexuality stations’ in this train analogy. People can either stay at the stations they start off at, can ride the train to another station or they could also be in transit between different stops. I think the reason I really liked this comparison is because no stage of this journey is any more or less valid than the others. It’s ok to stay in one place and it’s also ok to be in transit, between stations. There was a time when I felt confused by the labels and I wasn’t quite sure what to identify as, but thinking of my sexuality as a train journey made it feel more like an adventure rather than something daunting.
"Sexuality was not black or white for me, but was much more of a spectrum onto which everyone falls differently."
Relationships
I think I’ve always been demisexual, I just never knew there was a word for it until very recently. What this means is that I am attracted to people’s personalities more than the physical exterior. That’s not to say that I don’t notice external beauty in others, I’m just initially drawn to internal beauty. I’m attracted to kindness, compassion, empathy, determination, resilience - amongst other qualities. The gender identity or sexual orientation of the person with these qualities is less of an influencing factor for me when it comes to choosing a partner. I’ve had boyfriends in the past and am now in a relationship with a pansexual woman. I’ve notice that when you aren’t in a ‘conventionally straight’ relationship, people become a lot more fixated on the sexuality of you and your partner. Maybe it’s curiosity, I think for many people they just want to understand and learn more. But when I was in relationships with men, no one ever came up to me and asked ‘So, you’re straight then?’. I didn’t get subtle looks of judgement walking down the street like I do now when I hold my girlfriend’s hand. I didn’t have to think about whether my friends and family would treat me differently because of who I was dating. I didn’t have to think about which countries would be safe to travel to or live in because of who I love. It’s these subtleties which indicate to me that society still hasn’t normalised or fully accepted relationships which aren’t cis-gendered, heterosexual ones, even in a country where it is legal to be in one.
So yes, I’m in a gay/lesbian/same-sex (whatever you want to call it) relationship but I think once people realise that that’s just the same as any relationship, progress can be made towards acceptance and integration. What I’d rather say, instead of using those labels to define my relationship, is that I’m in a healthy, happy relationship which makes me wake up every day feeling grateful, loved and respected. My partner and I love each other more than words can ever say and in each other we have found a soul mate, a best friend and someone who we want to spend the rest of our lives with. To me, that’s what a relationship should be and I hope that one day society at large can see that LGBTQIA+ relationships are just the same as heterosexual ones.
Article Written By Emma Hodson
(She/Her)
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