Musings on Life for the Queerly Inclined

Posts tagged ‘gay’

He Didn’t Just Objectify Me, Did He? – Gay Men and Misogyny

Heads up, everyone: this is an angry post and it’s a hurt post.  If you aren’t up for dealing with that right now, this is your chance to exit.  That being said, I wanna address an issue that is incredibly important to discuss, yet gets written off as no big deal: misogyny in the queer community, specifically on the part of gay men.  I’ve been thinking and talking about this a lot recently and have gotten mixed responses.  Mostly, the gay guys I’ve talked to are totally unaware of this problem and don’t see how their own behavior fits these patterns.  Ugh.  Women…eh, reactions range from “OMG I KNOW I HAVE SO MANY STORIES JUST LIKE THAT” to “Are you kidding me?  There’s no way it could be that bad.  They’re gay–it’s not like that.”

Oh but it is like that.

[TW: body policing, casual misogyny, and sexual harassment/unwanted touching]

Groping and commenting on others’ bodies (unsolicited, without consent) is a huge problem, regardless of whether you claim to be sexually attracted to that type of body or not.  This happens especially in the case of gay men feeling entitled to women’s bodies.  In a society in which gay men are stereotyped as feminine, they’re both damned for that (“good men are masculine”) and celebrated as experts on femininity.  Since women are supposed to be feminine (cuz we all gotta be gender-conforming, amiright??), gay men are presented as having authority over how women should dress, act, modify our bodies, etc.  Think of the gay bff or fashionista stereotypes.*

What does this mean?

Body policing.  Comments that are not only unwanted, but are potentially incredibly harmful to our body images, self esteem, and mental health.  Touches that, if initiated by straight men, would immediately be identified as sexual harassment.  A lot of misogyny.

Not Sure I’m Following You…

I’m not gonna go into a whole spiel about how and why this happens, trying to convince you that it’s a problem.  If you’re confused or not familiar with this subject, I suggest you check out two articles:

  • Gay Men’s Sexism and Women’s Bodies” by Yolo Akili – posted last November on The Good Men Project.  I was so excited to find this.  He explains the problem well and I’m always relieved to find folks in privileged positions doing a good job educating our own.  Writing as a queer man of color, he also touches upon the added oppressive dynamic of white men feeling entitled in any way to the bodies of women of color.
  • “Why Do Gay Men Keep Touching My Boobs: The Autostraddle Mini-Roundtable” – Autostraddle writers pick up where Akili left off.  This actually turned into an incredibly interesting (and, it seemed, healing) conversation on Autostraddle.

I’m so glad to see other people discussing the problem of gay men’s sexism prominently and to find shared experiences with other queer women (see: Autostraddle’s comment section, which is mostly devoid of derailing BS posts).  Honestly, it’s something I face a lot, and I’m not always around people who get what I’m talking about.

So…What are you talking about?

  • “You need more makeup.  Here, let me do it.”  DID I ASK YOU TO GRAB MY FACE?  FUCK NO.

  • “Why are you wearing makeup?  You don’t need that.”  Umm HELLO NOT DOING IT FOR YOUR APPROVAL.  I wear makeup for myself, regardless of when you think it’s appropriate.
  • So many anti-vulva/vagina comments.  Vaginas don’t have to be your thing, but disparaging remarks are not needed.  Bodies with vaginas aren’t inherently disgusting, thank you very much, nor are we desperate for your approval.

    Gabby from Autostraddle
    : “The comments are always quintessentially linked to what my/our vaginas might smell or look like. (Sidenote- if you don’t eat it, devour it, lick it off your fingertips, then don’t even for a second make a comment on that shit. Maybe if you did then you’d have the right to say something.  Maybe then you’d describe it as tasting like fresh cantaloupe or smelling like every good secret reason you’ve been late to class this week…)”
  • “I’m totally gay, but it is kinda nice to put your penis in one [a vagina].”  Wow, thanks for reducing bodies with vaginas to just vaginas…or, as they’ll now be known: NPRs (nice penis receptacles).  Note: being told this as a queer cis woman was exceedingly awkward, among other things, because he said it as though I should be grateful that someone was–in the same sentence–telling me he was totally not attracted to me, but that my body was good for something anyway.  Great.
  • Frequent comments against queer women, especially lesbian women. “I used to be beautiful, but now I look like a lesbian!”  Note: gay men seem shocked when I call these remarks out; I’m not really sure why.  Is it because they’re reading me as straight and are surprised that I care about queer women?  Is it because they think women–femme women particularly?–are passive and won’t cross them?  Are they totally oblivious to everything?

  • At a former job, a supervisor and a coworker–both gay men–speculated loudly about what my pubic hair looks like and whether or not I trim it.  They were standing right in front of me.  They laughed.  I didn’t say anything because I was so taken aback that I didn’t have a clue what to say.  Just be cool, otherwise they’ll think I’m super uptight.  Remember, they’re gay men so they don’t really mean it in a sexual way so it’s totally fine, right???  

  • All of the comments about my boobs.  All of the comments.  I have very large breasts and gay men (among others) tell me this frequently–in varying amounts of detail–as though I didn’t know.  Thankfully, there’s usually no attempted touching, perhaps because I give off a “touch me and I’ll break your fingers” vibe.
  • Calling me babe.  At work.  The first time they meet me.  When I’ve made it clear I don’t respond to that word.  I’ll be the first to admit that I’m definitely into affectionate nicknames.  But unless we have a rapport in which we’ve established that that’s okay, just stick to my name.  For the record: babe is never okay for me.

  • A (queer guy) ex would play with my boobs in this really negatively objectifying way, like they were toys that weren’t actually connected to my body, like I didn’t have so many feelings connected to them (emotionally as well as physically).  I never found a way to tell him how much this bothered me, cuz ya know I was obviously being irrational, right?  He couldn’t be objectifying me, I mean we’re both queer and he was my intimate partner and HOLY SHIT SO MUCH BULLSHIT.
  • Calling people bitches all the time.  As a term of endearment.  As a put-down.  Just stop, okay?  Just because you’re gay doesn’t make it magically okay for you to refer to your friends/your coworkers/your cats as “all my bitchez.”  Did you miss the chapter about that actually being (potentially) really offensive, reductive, and hurtful?  See also: don’t fucking try to reclaim slurs that aren’t yours to reclaim!

What to do?

Regardless of your sexual orientation and gender identity, check yourself!  Where do you fit in these examples?  Have you experienced or witnessed any of them?  Do you perpetrate them?  Gay men: as individuals, many of you are marvelous and dear to me.  But as a group, do not assume you and I will be best friends, simply because we’re both feminine or because you’re gay.  As you might imagine (after reading all this), I’m pretty fucking wary of you.  That doesn’t mean I will bite your heads off immediately; it means I will be guarded around you until you demonstrate that you have your shit together and are aware of yourself and the space you take up.  Check yourselves and check your friends.  Deal?

* Obviously not all gay men are feminine or into fashion.  Yes, those are stereotypes and yes, stereotypes are confining and need to be broken down.  That’s another (related) conversation.  If you post comments about being a gay man who’s not obsessed with fashion, you might be completely truthful, but you’re not being helpful.  You’re derailing the conversation.  You don’t suddenly become not oppressive just because you break stereotypes.

** I clearly wrote this from my perspective as a femme queer woman.  I can’t speak for masculine-of-center women and non-binary folks, but my perception is that there’s a different sort of bullshit that goes down there, more in the vein of “why would you be a woman (or a person ever perceived to be a woman) and be masculine?  You’re wasting your femininity (cuz women are inherently feminine, right??).”  Ughhh so many problems.  I have all of the love for butches, masc-of-center, and gender non-conforming folks.  Y’all are beautiful, handsome, and endlessly snazzy.  Here is my adorable face, just for you:

ATTENTION: The National Threat Level Has Been Raised to RAINBOW

Last night I had a crisis on my hands.  I mean a full-fledged disaster.  It was like running out of glitter.  Okay, not that bad.  What to wear for dyke march?  The question hung over me, drenching me in desperation and doom.  The blue jeans short shorts?  Or the pink jeans shorter shorts?  These are the questions that keep me awake at night, people!

Keep in mind, pride weekend is a two day affair: Saturday is dyke march; the parade is on Sunday.  There are multiple after-party opportunities following both.  Gotta figure out what fabulousness I’m gonna wear for each event.

Sequins are gonna happen.  I mean, duh, that’s pretty much a given.  I decided on a silver sequin top (ya know those items of clothing that toe the line between a shirt and a dress so you besta wear something underneath them?  ya, that), with the pink shorts, a pink chunky belt, and pink sneakers.

If you’re gonna be at Chicago dyke march, come say hey!  I’m gonna march with FFICA: Fierce Femmes in Chicagoland Area.  We have a huge red velvet banner–yeah, we’re keepin’ it classy–that says “femmes” on it in red and pink sequins and white lace.  Needless to say, we won’t be hard to miss.  I helped make the banner, so you should check out my fancy cursive lettering in red sequined fabric.  Holla!

Video

Have You Ever Had a Gay Experience?

Aaaaaaand the Canadians win. Is anyone surprised?

(This coming from the woman who thinks pretty much anything can be construed as queer.) Anyone who’s seen the music video for LMFAO’s “Sexy and I Know It” has most definitely had a gay experience, so that’s like everyone, right??

My Life Is Rough

WordPress tells me that I have readers in the USA, the UK, Pakistan, Germany, the Philippines, and Puerto Rico.  Welcome, everyone!  Now to business.  I would like to draw upon your collective creativity and knowledge to help me solve a most urgent problem.  *drum roll*  How can I watch The L Word without being subjected to the outrageous shenanigans of Jenny Schecter?  She starts off okay, but by halfway through the series, she needs to go.  By the final season, she’s unbearable.  As Diane Schipley wrote in The Guardian in 2009, “the death of whiny egomaniac Jenny was probably long overdue.”  (That does not need a spoiler warning–season six premiered three and a half years ago.)  Suggestions?

My solution?  Bypass The L Word all together and instead watch Noah’s Arc.  So many gay men.  So much awkward flirting.  Let’s see how long I can stick with that.  It’s dramatic and entertaining, but the patronizing macho power plays really put me off.

On to the good things in my life:

1. I actually made breakfast.  Real “I’m home now and have access to a fully stocked kitchen and super fabulous professional stove” breakfast.  The house was filled with the sugary scents of cinnamon rosemary artisan French toast, stewed bananas on the side, all sprinkled with crushed pecans and drizzled with maple syrup.  Last night I had pennette with homemade pesto (my mom grows basil).  There’s also been an exponential increase in the amount of homemade guac and chips since I returned home.  I’ve missed cooking…

2. My mom (of her own accord) bought the new Allison Bechdel book: Are You My Mother?  I promptly stole borrowed it.

3. This.  All of this.  Who’s in Chicago?  Hit me up.  We’re gonna find out who these people are (already got one of them), where they are, and when we can party it up with them.  Let’s go drink champagne and get you laid.

Chicago Wins…Again

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