CONFRONTING HETERONOMATIVITY ON VALENTINE’S DAY

Confronting HETERONORMATIVITY ON VALENTINE'S Day by Sophie Uy

A perspective on the world’s most ‘loving’ holiday, through the viewpoint of a member of the LGBTQ+ community

Experiences are not universal!”

It seems only fitting to begin with this quote by “Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt” star Dong Nguyen, which speaks for itself.

I’m aware that Northern Virginia has always been a sheltered bubble, and the discrimination I’ve experienced as a member of the LGBTQ+ community may not be nearly as extreme as what others have dealt with.

Valentine’s Day has never felt quite right to me, not just because of the holiday’s consumerist nature, but because it’s always been “straightcoded.” Any advertisement for chocolates, flowers, or valentines from Target always showed the same thing: a man and a woman in love, which goes to show that love is still subject to heteronormative commercialization.

Heteronormativity is the belief that heterosexuality is the “norm,” whereas being LGBTQ+ isn’t. Never am I more aware of my queerness and how wrong it feels (when it isn’t!) than on Valentine’s Day.

OPINION 29 Confronting HETERONORMATIVITY OPINION 29

I figured out early on that I was bisexual (I have Shego from “Kim Possible” to thank for that), but I never felt safe expressing it. I grew up in a heavily religious family, and calling something “gay” always had a negative connotation. Every Valentine’s Day, I’d feel sick to my stomach as

commercials promoted happy couples that were, surprise! Straight. Not once did I see a thriving LGBTQ+ couple in the media.

I’ve constantly been surrounded by stereotypes. I’ve been told bisexuals don’t experience discrimination because we can be in “straight” relationships. I’ve been told there isn’t a place for people like me in the LGBTQ+ community by fellow LGBTQ+ people. I’ve been told that bisexuality is just a phase, that I’m still young and “[I’ll] get over it” (actual words spoken to me). I’ve been told “all bisexuals are

promiscuous, and [you’re] not, so you’re not really bi,” to which I responded, “I don’t even know what a

promiscuous is!” None of these things are true. When I came to terms with my bisexuality, I was terrified. I knew that my feelings were real, but at the same time, I didn’t think I was allowed to feel this way. Sixth-grade girls were worried about meeting their future husbands while I worried about finding someone who would accept me for who I was. In times like those, I absolutely hated Valentine’s Day.

But I also loved Valentine’s Day because I could express my love and appreciation to my closest friends. Celebrating Valentine’s Day in the traditional consumerist sense was like admitting defeat.

Recently, I’ve realized that doesn’t have to be the case. On Valentine’s Day—and on any day that isn’t a holiday, for that matter—I can love who I want to love, and that is valid. I don’t have to give in to societal norms that force me into a potentially unhealthy straight relationship. I’m not saying that you, dear reader, have to harbor a visceral hate for Valentine’s Day—but I do ask that you consider how you celebrate it, if at all.