Labelling Sexuality

Why I Label my Sexuality

by Kate Waldock

It took a long time before I felt comfortable with the term ‘lesbian’. I remember the firsttime I heard it being used in a playground at the age of 8 or 9, and when I asked what the word meant, I was told that it meant someone was ‘gross’, or a ‘loser’. Such an early introduction to a perfectly normal label was detrimental to my association with the term. Any time I heard the word used it was in a negative light. Phrases such as, “She looks like such a lesbian”, or, “she’s so ugly, she’s probably a lesbian” were tossed about at girls, and the word carried weight. Once marked with the label ‘lesbian’, your name was smeared. Girls would avoid you, and you lost friends who were “scared” of you trying to kiss them, or worse. I watched this happen multiple times throughout school to girls who never quite managed to shake offthe rumours.

I managed to swerve accusations of the sort whilst I struggled internally with my feelings. The shame that comes with the realisation you are attracted to the same gender is unlike anything a straight person may ever understand. I came across a video talking about bisexuality, and I watched it, then cried for an hour when I initially realised I had to address my attraction to girls. Teenagers were bitchy at that age, but many didn’t even realise the enormous effectthey had on LGBTQ+ students. Homophobia was entirely ingrained in us all, and using a phrase like ‘that’s so gay’ is still in common use. Although, whenever someone slips up and says it in front of me now they look embarrassed as if they’re sorry they’ve been caught (but, I fear, not sorry they said it). I can’t help but still feel resentment to many of those who used my sexuality against me in the years after I came out, or used it to ridicule me, despite being aware that they’ve all grown up, and hopefully recognised their prejudice. I only very recently became comfortable using the label ‘lesbian’ at all. Because of both external and internalised homophobia, I yearned to be attracted to men. I would try time and time again to finda relationship with a man, but it never sat right. During my time at university, it went no further than kissing them in nightclubs or having deep conversations in my flatabout how I am probably not attracted their gender at all. It’s safe to say that they weren’t expecting a heartfelt discussion when we left the club together, but to many of the boys’ credit, they were understanding. I finally accepted that I wasn’t attracted to men when I was in my second year at university, towards the end of the firstterm. I have decided to use this term with pride, to prove to those younger than me who are living through the same homophobia that ‘lesbian’ is not a dirty word. Having a label allows me to feel empowered. It’s a proud middle fingerup to homophobia, a reclamation of the labels stolen from us by bigots.

Why I Don’t Label my Sexuality

by Indi Scott Whitehouse

When I was 14, I sat my parents down on the sofa and burst into tears as I told them that I was experiencing an attraction to women. As they asked why I was crying my only answer was “I think maybe I’m bisexual? But I don’t know what I am”. In hindsight, I was crying at the pressure of labelling my attraction. In a friendship group of people who all labelled their sexuality in differentways but were all individually empowered and confidentwith them, I felt that I needed to do the same. It was my Dad who helped me realise “you don’t have to defineyour sexuality at all if you don’t want to”. For a very long time (and still fairly often), I findmyself feeling unable to confidentlyexpress my sexuality. As a straight-passing cis girl who has had far more experience with men in heteronormative uni hook up culture, I often convinced myself that my lack of a label meant that I wasn’t a valid part of the LGBTQ+ community so often found myself labelled an ally, or on occasion the “straight best friend” by someone who assumed my sexuality. I am very aware of my straight-passing privilege, and that I have not experienced the worst extents of homophobic bullying and abuse that my peers have; for a time, this made me feel selfishto even attempt to identify with the community. Of course, it was mostly my own insecurities that led to this, and, after discussions with friends, I have been made to feel comfortable and supported by the community as I come to terms with my sexuality. A combination of elderly relatives and family friends labelling bisexual and pansexual relatives “greedy”, an ex-boyfriend challenging my attendance to a gay club on a night club with “well you’re not gay, are you? So, what are you doing going there?” and the consistency of sleazy male attention on nights out left me feeling caught up and pressured into ignoring the fluidityof my sexuality. I have experienced attraction to various genders and am slowly becoming more and more comfortable with that fact and trying not to be intimidated by the knowledge that I maybe don’t always conform to the expectations people may have of me. Coming out of my last heterosexual relationship, downloading Tinder for the firsttime and selecting “show me everyone” was an empowering relief. It felt so freeing to know that I could meet and talk to anyone and that people didn’t expect me to exclusively talk to or flirtwith one gender anymore. My decision not to label myself is becoming increasingly acknowledged and supported by my friends. I feel empowered by my choice to not label myself, and I support my family and friends’ decisions to label themselves because I understand that different things empower different people. I feel that I have so much more of my life to go through and so many more experiences to have. I enjoy the fact that I can be whoever I want to be, and the fluidityof my sexuality leaves me feeling free to enter different situations in my life without feeling categorised by anyone else against my will. I feel privileged to be in a situation where I longer feel expected to exclusively label my sexuality and I am part of an incredible support network of people who both label and don’t label their sexualities, and who all appreciate each other’s variety of decisions when it comes to definingour sexual attraction. Labels or no labels, we are all empowered and reassured by one another.

design by: Maja Metera