This is for all those people who don’t believe in the ineffable husbands.
I want you to analyze something with me.
Now, we have Aziraphale and Crowley.
We have the “good one”, that works against the evil forces, or what he believes is evil.
And the “bad one”, who works for Hell, for the dark forces; or at least he should. ‘Cause he’s not truly evil. He’s just a Demon that does what he has to do to survive.
They supposed to hate each other, and Aziraphale, the one that supposed to be incorruptible, tries hard not to fall into temptation, even if Crowley insists.
In the apocalyptic scenario they’re forced to work together in order to save the world.
In the end, they simply surrender to the fact that even being so different, they can coexist.
Their story ends with the two of them, sitting together, dining and toasting romantically. No kisses or confessions involved.
Just a bromance? Ok.
Now let’s analyze this.
We have Shadwell and Madame Tracy.
One of them works for the “light” and against the evil forces. He works for what he considers to be good, in this case he’s a witchfinder.
The other one uses dark magic, even if she truly is just a fake psychic, and she sins with absolutely no shame.
They supposed to hate each other, and Shadwell, the one that supposed to be incorruptible, tries hard not to fall into temptation, even if Madame Tracy insists.
In the apocalyptic scenario they’re forced to work together in order to save the world.
In the end, they simply surrender to the fact that even being so different, they can coexist.
Their story ends with the two of them sitting together, dining and toasting romantically. No kisses or confessions involved.
Now, this is my question:
Why does nobody AT ALL suggest that the one between Madame Tracy and Shadwell is just a bromance? Why are we all so sure that the straight one is in fact a romantic relationship, but we’re not sure about the one between two men? Even if we watched so many more romantic moments between Aziraphale and Crowley than between Tracy and Shadwell?
This is heteronormativity, guys.
You can be certain that there’s something romantic between a man and a woman even if they have literally four scenes together, but you doubt that Aziraphale and Crowley, that know each other since SIX THOUSAND YEARS, that spent their lives basically saving each other, that say sentences like “I know what you smell like”, “we are on our own side”, “we can go away together” can be involved in something romantic.
We don’t really need them to kiss or say “I love you” to know they’re a couple, just as we don’t need Tracy and Shadwell to do those things to know they’re a couple.
I feel very frustrated by @taylorswift’s “You Need to Calm Down” (currently “#3 On Trending” on youtube). This is not a particularly hot take.
Corporate pride tends to be highly contested in general: on the one hand, some argue that it’s helpful to LGBT+ youth to see themselves represented in the hegemony and suggest that maybe it’s better that corporations are courting LGBT+ dollars over the money of homophobes; on the other, normalization (especially normalization through capitalist/corporate interests) has historically been complicit in the further marginalization of many queer folks–especially trans women of color. To some, “You Need to Calm Down” is simply one example of corporate pride, and therefore represents the same potential for an ambiguous reading. Personally, I have tried to imagine whether this song would have meant anything useful to me as a closeted queer teen; I remember looking desperately for queer themes in “straight” music, and I remember being slightly older (18, maybe?) watching Hayley Kiyoko’s “Girls like Girls” on a loop and how much my first exposure to actually queer music produced by actually queer artists meant to me, and I don’t think even that version of me would have felt connected to Taylor Swift’s attempt to reconcile her experience as a celebrity who has literally capitalized off of internet drama to the harassment queer folks experience daily for existing as themselves.
The Onion’s article “Taylor Swift Inspires Teen To Come Out As Straight Woman Needing To Be At Center Of Gay Rights Narrative” does a great job of simplifying why exactly this video and song is so exhausting to me and many other LGBTQ+ folks: the author argues that Taylor Swift uses “LGBTQ iconography to advance her career” and that, rather than letting people speak for themselves and control their own narratives, she’s making Pride Month about herself. The AtlanticandVoxboth have run more in-depth articles breaking down the multitude of reasons why this song is deservedly coming under fire, which I highly recommend reading.
One counter argument I’ve seen here and there is that Taylor Swift is actuallynot a straight woman centering a gay rights narrative around herself–now that she’s said the word “gay” in a non-negative way in a song, its only a matter of time before she comes out! So one of the things I want to emphasize here is that while I personally don’t believe she’s queer (and per Swift’s own tumblr post explaining why she didn’t kiss Katy Perry in the music video where she says “To be an ally is to understand the difference between advocating and baiting. Anyone trying to twist this positivity into something it isn’t needs to calm down. It costs zero dollars to not step on our gowns.” she doesn’t seem to anticipate coming out either), regardless of whether or not she turns out not to be straight, this song and its lyrics areappropriating LGBTQ iconography to advance her career, and Swift isusing queer folks as accessories to perform “wokeness” and draw parallels between herself and actual marginalized communities for her own gain. She may end the music video with directions to sign her petition for Senate support of the Equality Act, but the links in the song description are all promotion for her song, her merch, and her social media accounts. She does not even follow through on the optics of social justice.
The main way I want to trace this argument is through her fundamental misunderstanding and, more significantly, misrepresentation of what homophobia is.Throughout the song/music video Swift is consistently trying to render compatible her own supposed experiences with being bullied/criticized on the internet to the violence of homophobia which is, quite frankly, fucking wild. She sings: “Say it in the street, that’s a knock-out / But you say it in a Tweet, that’s a cop-out.” What seems to be the intended interpretation of this line is that negative interactions online are cowardly, because people are “hiding” behind usernames and icons, rather than being “brave” enough to offer direct criticism and publicly/visibly own their words; I am not going to go into the potentials of this line of conversation, because I do think in another context (and said by other people) real conversations about the potentials and pitfalls of online culture in regards to purity/call-out culture, social activism/organizing, and bullying can be and are already being had. What I want to point out here is the cognitive dissonance: who can say anything in the street to someone as rich, privileged, and insulated as Taylor Swift? If Swift only accepts criticism delivered in person, she doesn’t accept criticism and she might as well own up to that. And when she is trying to tie this into a commentary on homophobia, maybe she should have considered for two seconds the kind of actual danger queer folks (especially trans and gender non-conforming) are actually in on the streets every day while she’s in a mansion/penthouse apartment (and to that extent, the gentrified trailer park imagery didn’t sit to well with me either, but I’ll get into the discussion of class later on). Queer folks really are getting knocked-out in the streets (1,2,3). Furthermore, in her desperate attempt to center her psuedo-discourse on homophobia and queer liberation around herself, she sings the lines: “But I’ve learned a lesson that stressin’ and obsessin’ / ‘bout somebody else is no fun / And snakes and stones never broke my bones”. I’m not really surprised that it doesn’t “break her bones,” given how successfully she has marketed and monetized her feuds and her own victimhood; this is just a newnother rebranding of said victimized persona, and even though she may not be bothered, there are real stakes to it beyond the “lack of fun”.
So let’s get into it. As I said before, Swift is dangerously misrepresenting what homophobia is and what it looks like, namely through the use of a progress “wrong side of history” narrative. The lines run “Why are you mad when you could be GLAAD?…Sunshine on the street at the parade / But you would rather be in the dark ages” and the music video shows what Kornhaber, writing for The Atlantic, aptly describes as “an unwashed-looking mob” holding childish signs with misspellings and the all-time classic “Adam + Eve Not Adam + Steve.” Korhnaber points out the more common use of “God Hates Fags” signs; personally, I’ve also seen a lot of the “HolyBible” “After Death, the Judgement” signs. In Swift’s narrative, homophobia looks like the obvious, regressive, primitive villain; the already defeated. Perhaps worse, it looks like the rural poor, against the backdrop of rich queer celebrities. This narrative works to render invisible the poor-and-queer, and it undermines the real dangers homophobic violence poses by imagining homophobia has already lost. Imagining homophobia as thirteen unwashed rural poor people who can’t spell the word “moron” obscures the reality that there are also the Mike Pences and the Philip Anschutzs and the laundry list of other rich and connected anti-LGBT politicians, activists, and donors who have very real effects on the lives of the disabled, people of color, women, LGBTQ+ folks, the poor, immigrants, and all the intersections thereof. This also ties into the way Swift puts forward the solution “You just need to take several seats and then try to restore the peace / And control your urges to scream about all the people you hate.” As meaningless as these lines are overall, the insinuation that there is a “peace” that we can be “restored” to that would benefit the marginalized and oppressed is ridiculous and harmful, and again misrepresents the problem. Moreover, it suggests the problem could be understood as one of bodily discipline: if homophobes “controlled” themselves better, didn’t scream so much, there wouldn’t be a problem–this gets us back to the problematics of representing homophobia as exclusively the undisciplined poor, rather than the rich and connected. It also leaves room for the potential insinuation that everybodywho is angry on the internet needs to calm down; I’ve seen a lot of jokes that this Pride Month, the 50th anniversary of Stonewall, we’re returning to our rebel roots and also celebrating Wrath. I certainly don’t plan to calm down, thanks anyway, Taylor.
In this same vein lets consider the much quoted line: “'Cause shade never made anybody less gay”. This was the first line I heard from the song, and my immediate problem with it was, as Korhnaber also points out, thatthrowing shade comes from queer communities of color, and “there are many ways to describe a parent who disowns a trans kid, or a lawmaker who tries to nullify same-sex marriages, or a church member who crashes a gay soldier’s funeral. Shadyisn’t one.”
Swift hides from potential criticism/backlash behind a psuedo-feminist “female solidarity” with lines such as: “And we see you over there on the internet / Comparing all the girls who are killing it / But we figured you out / We all know now we all got crowns.” While there certainly are people who try to pit women against each other on the internet, again this is something which Taylor Swift has directly utilized multiple times to make herself money. I’m glad celebrities know they’ve all got crowns, but in what world does this benefit the non-rich and famous?
As I was scrolling through Facebook a few weeks ago, I noticed a new trend: Several friends posted pictures (via an app) of what they would look like as “the opposite sex.” Some of them were quite funny—my female-identified friends sported mustaches, while my male-identified friends revealed long flowing locks. But my sociologist-brain was curious: What makes this app so appealing? How does it decide what the “opposite sex” looks like? Assuming it grabs the users’ gender from their profiles, what would it do with users who listed their genders as non-binary, trans, or genderqueer? Would it assign them male or female? Would it crash? And, on a basic level, why are my friends partaking in this “game?”
Gender is deeply meaningful for our social world and for our identities—knowing someone’s gender gives us “cues” about how to categorize and connect with that person. Further, gender is an important way our social world is organized—for better or worse. Those who use the app engage with a part of their own identities and the world around them that is extremely significant and meaningful.
Gender is also performative. We “do” gender through the way we dress, talk, and take up space. In the same way, we read gender on people’s bodies and in how they interact with us. The app “changes people’s gender” by changing their gender performance; it alters their hair, face shape, eyes, and eyebrows. The app is thus a outlet to “play” with gender performance. In other words, it’s a way of doing digital drag. Drag is a term that is often used to refer to male-bodied people dressing in a feminine way (“drag queens”) or female-bodied people dressing in a masculine way (“drag kings”), but all people who do drag do not necessarily fit in this definition. Drag is ultimately about assuming and performing a gender. Drag is increasingly coming into the mainstream, as the popular reality TV series RuPaul’s Drag Race has been running for almost a decade now. As more people are exposed to the idea of playing with gender, we might see more of them trying it out in semi-public spaces like Facebook.
While playing with gender may be more common, it’s not all fun and games. The Facebook app in particular assumes a gender binary with clear distinctions between men and women, and this leaves many people out. While data on individuals outside of the gender binary is limited, a 2016 report from The Williams Institute estimated that 0.6% of the U.S. adult population — 1.4 million people — identify as transgender. Further, a Minnesota study of high schoolers found about 3% of the student population identify as transgender or gender nonconforming, and researchers in California estimate that 6% of adolescents are highly gender nonconforming and 20% are androgynous (equally masculine and feminine) in their gender performances.
So, let’s all play with gender. Gender is messy and weird and mucking it up can be super fun. Let’s make a digital drag app that lets us play with gender in whatever way we please. But if we stick within the binary of male/female or man/woman, there are real consequences for those who live outside of the gender binary.
Allison Nobles is a PhD candidate in sociology at the University of Minnesota and Graduate Editor at The Society Pages. Her research primarily focuses on sexuality and gender, and their intersections with race, immigration, and law.
In the United States we tend to think children develop sexuality in adolescence, but new researchbyHeidi Gansen shows that children learn the rules and beliefs associated with romantic relationships and sexuality much earlier.
Gansen spent over 400 hours in nine different classrooms in three Michigan preschools. She observed behavior from teachers and students during daytime classroom hours and concluded that children learn — via teachers’ practices — that heterosexual relationships are normal and that boys and girls have very different roles to play in them.
In some classrooms, teachers actively encouraged “crushes” and kissing between boys and girls. Teachers assumed that any form of affection between opposite gender children was romantically-motivated and these teachers talked about the children as if they were in a romantic relationship, calling them “boyfriend/girlfriend.” On the other hand, the same teachers interpreted affection between children of the same gender as friendly, but not romantic. Children reproduced these beliefs when they played “house” in these classrooms. Rarely did children ever suggest that girls played the role of “dad” or boys played the role of “mom.” If they did, other children would propose a character they deemed more gender-appropriate like a sibling or a cousin.
Preschoolers also learned that boys have power over girls’ bodies in the classroom. In one case, teachers witnessed a boy kiss a girl on the cheek without permission. While teachers in some schools enforced what the author calls “kissing consent” rules, the teachers in this school interpreted the kiss as “sweet” and as the result of a harmless crush. Teachers also did not police boys’ sexual behaviors as actively as girls’ behaviors. For instance, when girls pulled their pants down teachers disciplined them, while teachers often ignored the same behavior from boys. Thus, children learned that rules for romance also differ by gender.
Allison Nobles is a PhD candidate in sociology at the University of Minnesota and Graduate Editor at The Society Pages. Her research primarily focuses on sexuality and gender, and their intersections with race, immigration, and law.
Ancestry is a concept that at first seems bound within a heterosexist framework. Ancestry—when understood within the confines of limited heterocentrist viewpoint—is thought to exist only within the realm of blood relation, stemming from the proliferation of the ideal family unit across time and space as parents produce children, who become adults that in turn find heterosexual partners and produce children. This is what is understood when we speak of ancestry.
But what of Queer Ancestry? What of the kinships that are formed by those whose families have rejected them? What of those families who’s bond to one another is not blood but instead a shared commitment to protect, support, and uplift one another? Where, in the traditional family ideal, is there room for queer understandings of love and family? Our families are not connected by some shared DNA, they are connected by a shared spirit of resistance, of a common will to life that drives us to reject the hegemonic in search of a more authentic sense of self-actualization.
Many of our Queer Ancestors’ names have been lost to time, erased by the hegemonic power of heterohistory. Although their names may be lost, their stories can still empower and embolden us. By sharing their stories we carry their essence with us; they lend us their strength and their courage, their passion and their pain. Take strength from your Queer Ancestors. Allow them to empower you. Allow them to lend you their spirit, and they will lift you to new heights.
Being queer saved my life. Often we see queerness as deprivation. But when I look at my life, I saw that queerness demanded an alternative innovation from me. I had to make alternative routes; it made me curious; it made me ask, “Is this enough for me?”
Okay, Gen Z, younger millennials, please tell me, are you aware of what the title Ms. means? And how to pronounce it?
Because I just listened to several young 20-somethings pronounce it Miss and talk about how it means you’re not married. And…I’m feeling weird about it, considering that’s the title I use.
(It means my marital status is none of your business. I use it because I’m married but I kept my maiden name so I’m not Mrs. anyone.)
These comments really are fascinating and it seems especially people whose first language isn’t English aren’t sure about this, which is fair. But as I suspected some young folks aren’t clear either?
It seems like Ms. has been conflated with Miss and Miss has fallen out of favor, which is fair, but the meanings have been confused.
So here:
Ms.has some antique origins similar to Mrs. and Miss (all short for Mistress) but was revived in the 20th century (mostly in the 60s and 70s) by feminists as an all-purpose female title.
The problem with Miss and Mrs. is that they are tied specifically to marital status. (Miss is SPECIFICALLY an unmarried woman and Mrs. is a woman who is married or has been married. Yes, even older women can be Miss and a widow is still Mrs. (of course if they so choose).
While Mr. isn’t tied to marital status for men, of course. So Ms. is the female equivalent to Mr., intended to be used both as a default term when you don’t know someone’s marital status and ALSO as a term of choice when you don’t wish to be defined by your relationship to a man.
This was very much a political thing, part of second-wave feminism (which of course has it’s flaws). (Ms. magazine was a feminist women’s magazine which popularized the term.)
It’s pronounced something like Miz or Mzz.
So for me, I’ve used Ms. basically since I got out of college anytime I’m asked for a title. First because I didn’t want my marital status to be a thing of concern in professional settings. And when I was living with my now-husband but we weren’t married. And then after we were married and I kept my own last name because IMO neither of the other options was relevant.
(The keeping your own name thing is a different discussion probably, but I did it partly out of desire to stay the same “person” and partly out of apathy. Also my husband’s last name isn’t even the same as his parents (because remarriage) so there was no pressure there to change it and he gave no fucks about it. In fact, he’s almost seriously thought about changing his name to mine because he likes my family better, lol.)
But anyway, I feel like it’s important to keep the intention of Ms. alive because it’s so very useful and needed to have an equal partner to Mr. And more useful than ever with so many situations where you may be married/committed but not using your partner’s name (ie. gay married, poly relationships, not legally married for reasons of disability, idk whatever).
But Ms. does NOT mean unmarried. It means someone could be of ANY marital status: never married, currently married, divorced, widowed, etc. It means “it’s not your business because you don’t ask a man his marital status the first second you meet him so buzz off.”
[“If we want to know why many queer people prefer their own company to the company of straights, certainly one answer to this question is about protection and mutual care—we hold each other up in a world that pushes us down. But there is also another, far less discussed facet to this story about queer people keeping their distance from straight people—an element that has less to do with queer vulnerability or oppression in the face of straight privilege and more to do with queer power, freedom, abundance or relief in the face of heterosexual misery and myopia. It is a story about queer people sometimes finding straight culture and relationships too sad or enraging to witness, too boring or traumatic to endure. It is about queers often wishing to look away from the train wreck, by which I mean the seemingly inextricable place of sexual coercion and gender injustice within straight culture, or what the feminist writer JoAnn Wypijewski described in 2013—as she reflected on the ubiquity of sexual assault among teenagers—as heterosexuality’s relentlessly “primitive” attachment to lies, manipulation, and violence as the formative route to sex. It is about queer recoil, or something like the nausea that the French scholar Paul Preciado has felt in response to both the aesthetics and the misery (the miserable aesthetics?) of heterosexuality, described in an essay titled “Letter from a Transman to the Old Sexual Regime”: “I am as far removed from your aesthetics of heterosexuality as a Buddhist monk levitating in Lhassa is from a Carrefour supermarket… . It doesn’t excite me to ‘harass’ anyone. It doesn’t interest me to get out of my sexual misery by touching a woman’s ass on public transport… . The grotesque and murderous aesthetics of necro-political heterosexuality turns my stomach.” Sometimes straight culture is quite literally repulsive; we feel it in the gut.
We have insufficient language to describe queer people’s experience of finding straight culture repellent and pitiable, given that heterosexuality has been presented to us as love’s gold standard. But even without a suitable name for this contradiction—the fact that the world’s most glorified relationship is often a miserable one—many queers have still spoken this truth. In 1984, a few years before his death, James Baldwin explained to an interviewer from the Village Voice that queers could see the precarity of heterosexuality, even as straights kept it hidden from themselves: “The so-called straight person is no safer than I am really… . The terrors homosexuals go through in this society would not be so great if society itself did not go through so many terrors it doesn’t want to admit.” As Baldwin saw it, it is not simply that straight people are suffering and in denial about it but that heterosexual misery expresses itself through the projection of terror onto the homosexual.”]
we need 2 normalize characters who dgaf about romance
sorry im literally so tired of everyone being shipped with someone can a guy not just chill
i want 2 say this isnt just about aro characters. im aro i love aro characters i love ace characters but this also is about allo characters. its normal and healthy and fine for alloromantic people to not be in romantic relationships and i wish media reflected that
When I was little, probably about seven or eight, there was a house nearby mine. It was a little out of the way, a street I’d never go down usually, but when there was traffic we’d take the back route to get home. Now, one of these houses had a very brightly lit front room, and out of the norm for houses in the area, didn’t have any net curtains for privacy. Maybe they wanted everyone to see in, like my family and I did. Hung up in pride of place in this room was a framed portrait of a very, very topless woman.
My family found it funny, and so did I. It was tasteful, not pornographic, so my parents had no problem in pointing it out to my brother and I, and chuckling about it. I really, really found it funny. It always brightened up my journey to see it, because it was so funny. I’d request that we go that route home, not saying that I wanted to see the picture again, and sometimes we did. I just loved seeing that painting.
Either these people changed the painting, or moved, but at some point she no longer hung there. I’d still ask to go that way, and I’d still look in to that window to try and spot the painting, but it wasn’t there any more. I still automatically look if I ever drive past it.
I didn’t know back then that I was gay. I was too young to be sexually aroused by anything, and I certainly wasn’t having any meaningful crushes on boys at school (Seven of Nine is another matter - her hair was just sobeautiful). But when I look back, I can see my sexuality was there, dormant. I didn’t realise I was gay until over a decade past that.
I never learned about LGBT people in my sex ed lessons, only through rumours and gossip. If I was never taught that it was normal, that it was a genuine thing and not just something dirty or other, how was I ever meant to recognise it in myself?
Little queer children exist: not letting them learn about themselves, or pretending they don’t exist, doesn’t make them go away.
In this month’s installment of #GeekGirlTalk, Teal and Hanna muse about the ways Red, White & Royal Blue and The Kiss Quotient, two contemporary romance novels, subvert some of the heteronormative constants of the genre.
I feel like a universal young queer experience is knowing that you’ll never actually get to be your true self until you’re out of your parents house, everything before then is an extremely watered down version of yourself. And your parents think they know everything about you but you really have a whole other personality and they know absolutely nothing about you, or only what you want them to know. It even applies to your beliefs, religious or political.
The term ‘amatonormativity’ enables aromantic people to discuss the unique ways in which their identities are disadvantaged in a romantic-centric society. It does not mean that all forms or romantic love are equally valued, or that all forms of romantic love are privileged over aromanticism.
Amatonormativity is a piece of heteronormativity, and it’s norms are based off of ideals given to bonds that are heteroromantic heterosexual, especially among cisgendermale/femalepairs. The concept does not deny the unique way non-aromantics are disadvantaged re: romantic love.
The term is also used in academic contexts. It is not an invention of bloggers on social media. This would not necessarily invalidate the term, either, but it is important to acknowledge that this has an academic precedence, with multiple applications in research communities.
I think it’s important to note here that ‘amatonormativity’ is also used to discuss the norm ofmonogamy. Elizabeth Brake, who coined the term, was very explicit about how amatonormativity includes the enforcement of monogamy and that this norm has a high level of impact on polyamorous people in particular. The idea that ‘amatonormativity’ is just a word aro bloggers made up takes the term out of its original context and pushes aside any poly community discussions about amatonormativity in the process.
Also Elizabeth Brake actually talks about the distinction and overlap between heteronormativity, amatonormativity, and compulsory heterosexuality here on her website, so maybe people can listen to the actual academic who created the term before jumping to conclusions.
Yep, the term is useful to aromantic people for obvious reasons. However, people assume the term is an attempt on the part of aromantic people to position themselves as oppressed by people whose romantic experiences are also marginalized.
The term is relevant to multiple communities, and it addresses how heteronormativity impacts all individuals from the angle of relationship norms and the prioritization of romantic love within these norms, which disadvantages others.
I’ve seen posts expressing sentiments like “the aromantic community is tricking you into thinking amatonormativity is real!” but it does not even originate in our community and the term is useful to most marginalized communities.
The emphasis on marriage between monogamous pairs is an especially important part we can’t ignore re: amatonormativity. A lot of people tend to think polyamorous and aromantic issues are so far from each other, but they’re really not.
But seriously, this isn’t about ads. I don’t need to see more ads, I really don’t. But: Ads reflect and mold the image of relationships our society has or else they wouldn’t work. They need to create interest and desire and achieve this by showing you what you want: A loving relationship with lots of sex and playstations. See what I did there? I completely left any reference to gender roles out. It’s that easy.
And here is why it’s so important to me: They still target me. I am still in their target audience, not because I’m queer but because I’m a man. Which is annoying but fine if it weren’t for the fact that they’re telling me I’m doing it wrong; I need to have a girlfriend, I need to give her flowers, treat her to dinner and I need to screw her afterwards. Now, I don’t know about you, but I don’t need a 10'x13’ billboard invalidating me as a person. Especially not if I know this is but the tip of the iceberg.
I hope this answers your rhetoric question. Please don’t follow me up on this.
isn’t it funny how gay men are defined by their attraction to men, and lesbians are defined by their lack of attraction to men? isn’t it funny how literally everything revolves around men? and by funny I mean misogynistic
Sorry, but I can’t really recognize that. What is the word most likely used towards men that show a lack of “appropriate” interest in women? What are men showing “effeminate characteristics”, regardless of sexuality often called by others? Gay men are clearly not simply defined by an attraction to men, at least not in mainstream culture. Misogyny is an extremely huge problem both in and outside LGBTQ communities, no doubt about that. And I assume the post was born out of the frustration that a lot of guys (probably mostly heterosexual men in this context) lack respect towards lesbian identity and women (also erasure of bi men). But I see no point in saying things that doesn’t reflect the reality of many gay/bi/pan and/or asexual mens’ experience and erases parts of homophobia and heteronormativity.
![scifiseries:The Robot Who Looked Like Me - Dick Ellescas (1973). [1500 x 2028]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/68b840041c8c9ca2385dc9df5d5aea36/20980820ffc41f94-6e/s1280x1920/3a32f03e50a8938dd554cdde38202c62d842283c.png "scifiseries:The Robot Who Looked Like Me - Dick Ellescas (1973). [1500 x 2028]")
