By Vita and Talia
Art by Sophie Williams and Wombo Dream
Hello!
Sometimes you’ll meet someone, and you just click. That’s what happened with us. It started with small similarities, like being from small Midwestern towns and loving music. As we grew closer, it became apparent that many of our lived experiences aligned, sometimes shockingly so, like playing similar roles within our families and being queer women. In each other we’ve found a resounding sense of solace and a soul sister. This conversation grew out of that connection and a desire to share our imperfect, fuzzily defined identities so others might find comfort in our stories as we’ve found comfort in each other.
The (Queer) Midwest
Talia: Were you exposed to any LGBTQIA+ people or media when you were growing up?
Vita: A girl in my dance classes had two moms, and meeting them was my first exposure. They were both really cool. Then yeah, not until high school. I had a couple gay teachers; they were never super vocal about it though. There was definitely a sector of students who were from very conservative families, and things like that got pushed back against by those families, so they never really talked about it that much besides brief mentions. The first lesbian TV characters I encountered were Callie and Arizona on Grey’s Anatomy. I don’t know if you watch Grey’s, but for me that was kind of a —
T: A pivotal moment?
V: I don’t want to say it was pivotal, but it was definitely a moment where I felt seen. At that point it was still really a question for me — am I maybe queer and do I maybe like women; maybe the narrative about finding a perfect guy, about the spark, maybe it isn’t that it just hasn’t happened yet; maybe there’s a reason I’m not attracted to guys in the same way I’m starting to realize I’m attracted to girls. What about you?
T: I would say it was probably junior year of high school when I realized that people don’t have to be cisgender or heterosexual, but I didn’t really think about it. It was only after I started interacting with media that had LGBTQIA+ characters that I started to understand it more. I dated a guy for two years and I’ve been on a lot of dates with men and so I think the fact that I liked people besides men never crossed my mind. And I was an ally and really supportive of the community, but I never thought, “Yeah that could be me.”
V: I’ve come to the realization that a good 75% of my friends from high school are LGBTQIA+, but we never talked about it. No one ever came out; there were hints of it, but it was very hushed. But then we’ve all gone to college, and it’s liberating in a way. But, at least for me, it’s never a total liberation — when I go home it’s not easy to do that, say that, be that.
T: Yeah, I think especially in the Midwest it’s hard because people have strong community connections and know each other really well, so if you’re not out to your family but you’re out in another space, it can spread throughout the community really fast. Where I live there’s an “out of sight, out of mind” mentality, and I honestly don’t know how people would react if I was out. I want to say they’d react well, but honestly I’m not sure if I would feel safe.
V: Right. It’s very hush-hush; people aren’t always outwardly hostile, but it isn’t something that’s talked about openly or understood by most people. In my state, most people are nice to your face, but behind your back, rumors spread. One of the main reasons I haven’t come out to anyone at home — not friends, not teachers — is because I don’t trust that most people can be confidential. And I think if I tried to explain my sexuality to anyone back home they would want… they would need to be able to understand a clear label that I can’t really give yet, because I’m still figuring it out. So for now I’m just shutting up about it.
T: Well yeah so, I’m like demisexual but also pansexual because I’m not completely demisexual I don’t think, I’m just… maybe I am demisexual?
V: You can be both though right? Because pan is the gender thing and then demi is the way in which you’re attracted…?
T: …But then it’s also like I don’t know if I’m completely those and I feel like those labels don’t exactly cover it. So I identify as queer, but then it’s weird because people are like —
V: “What kind of queer?”
T: Yeah, and so I usually just end up saying bi even though I don’t identify as bi.
V: ME TOO. There’s this phenomenon where people assume I’m a lesbian. I remember during O-week, I was eating ice cream on the steps of the DOC, and my new friend just went, “You’re gay, right?”. I’ve had multiple people here be like, “Yeah I thought you were a lesbian; you have such gay vibes,” just because of their perception of how I dress or whatever. I usually end up saying bi. It’s easier than trying to explain demisexual or how I’m conventionally attracted to women but never to men, but if I know people well enough it doesn’t matter… There isn’t like a conventional label for that that most straight people understand. I think that’s one of the biggest reasons I haven’t told my family or people in my hometown; I am still figuring it out, and I feel like if I tell them one thing it will be that one thing forever. And I don’t have that level of confidence in any label that’s available to me.
T: I feel like I’m really good at putting myself into boxes. When I’m at Dartmouth I fit myself into a certain box, and when I’m at home I fit myself into a certain box and it’s a lot easier to just be in my home box when I’m at home.
V: You’re literally explaining my whole world.
T: It’s easier to just fit into the mold of the person that I’m supposed to be at home rather than have all this tension and have all this confusion and this anger when there’s somewhere else I can express all of that.
V: Is it really all of it though? Is the change in location a complete liberation?
Half-out @ Dartmouth
T: I think I initially thought things would be better here, and that I would be more comfortable expressing myself, but I’ve realized that Dartmouth is small and there are people who will see you differently if you’re not cis or het. It can be hard getting into relationships that aren’t heterosexual because you don’t know who people are connected to and don’t have control over who you’re out to.
V: Which goes back to the challenge of being only half-out, only out to some people.
T: It plays into identity, too, though, because people have ideas about me from one relationship I’ve been in and misrepresent what they know about my sexual orientation based on that relationship to people in a way that’s harmful to me, even if they don’t mean it to be harmful.
V: I think I find it easier to say “I’m queer” or “I like women” here because people at home will never know from the people that I tell here, and that is a huge hold up for me, not wanting to answer their million questions about my sexuality. At the same time, I feel like the queer dating scene is hard here. Maybe that’s just me. It also just takes me a long time to trust and be comfortable with people. So that makes it difficult here too, because the terms are short and stressful. But all in all being here for me is somewhat liberating, because there are other queer people around and it’s so much more visible, and at least in the relationships I have, people don’t or won’t treat me differently if they know.
T: I would agree! I’ve also found people in similar situations, who aren’t openly out, but when I tell them that I’m queer, they tell me about their identity. So I think for me it is comforting in that way, that people here have much more varied identities than I’m used to at home.
V: How does that come up in conversation for you?
T: Usually they’ll be discussing their past relationships, and then I’ll mention that I’m not straight, which opens the conversation for them to share too. But it usually doesn’t start there, it starts with more “conventional” relationship discussions.
V: It’s funny you bring that up, because I’m currently in a really great relationship…with a man. A lot of times I feel fractured internally, like I have to shut off or deny a part of my sexuality because I’m not actively engaging with it. Which is dumb, and I don’t DO that internally. But there’s a perception phenomenon; people who don’t know me as well and assume I’m not straight because of how I present sometimes give me weird looks.
The Closet: A Straight Invention?
T: I would say that there’s this idea of having a gaydar or people giving off “non-straight” vibes and I think it’s actually very —
V: Harmful?
T: Yeah, harmful. And not everyone in the community comes off that way, which is also harmful. I think there’s this idea that you can look at someone and know their sexuality, and that’s never true. I think that also fits into the idea of being able to label people, right?
V: Right. There’s this idea that it’s very black and white, you’re either part of the community or you’re not. That’s been my issue coming out, because for me it’s not a closet door that you open and step out and it’s suddenly like “ta-da” — it’s like a hallway, and it’s a process. I think our culture really emphasizes “ta-da” moments too, the surface level visibility — like how social media emphasizes aesthetic building — and it’s hard when you can’t have that level of visibility because you’re worried about your parents seeing your social media feed because your aunt follows you or whatever.
T: I would also say, there’s nothing wrong with coming out, but I think the entire concept of coming out is kind of a straight invention to identify people in the community. It’s this idea that LGBTQIA+ people are so different that they need to announce their identities to the world so everyone knows how to label them and that we’re not normal and don’t fit in.
V: That’s so interesting — coming out feeding the heterosexual assumption that everyone is straight and cis so that if you’re different, it has to be labeled. Instead of everyone just not assuming anyone’s sexuality.
T: And see there’s nothing wrong with coming out, but I think a lot of times there’s this idea that you’re not legitimate, that you don’t care about your identity or that your identity isn’t valid if you don’t come out…
V: … Or if you don’t come out to everyone.
T: Yeah, and it can be framed as you not being proud of your identity. For some people it’s just not feasible. I don’t think coming out should be framed as this huge thing because really people don’t need to know your sexuality. I think you should come out to people you want to come out to, but I think coming out also puts people in a box, but it’s also you come out once and then you’re done. But sexuality is fluid, right? I started off as straight, then went to bi, then went to pan, and then was like, “No I’m actually straight,” then went to bi, and then to queer, and so it’s like do I have to come out every single time that I do that?
V: You’re right, it’s definitely more of a journey, and when you tell everyone, if you announce it to the world however you do that and then you backpedal, I think there’s a lot of stigma, not even stigma but people freak out about that like, “Oh, you were wrong.”
T: I think most people in my life see it as black and white, and it’s not. I’m still figuring things out.
