To continue my exploration into the world of heterosexual privilege, I wish to dive even deeper and explore related privileges. (And my references will be focused on a college campus and traditional college-age individuals)
Heterosexuals, as mentioned in the earlier post, have many privileges that the LGBTQ community does not have. In conjunction with the former ones, another privilege that heterosexuals share is the ability to talk about it. Not only talk about it, but it is actually encouraged. How often do you sit down in a public place (the union, a classroom, eateries, etc.) only to overhear the loud and obnoxious talking about a date they had last night, or the rough and wild sex? (And yes, I have heard these conversations)(I will, however, say that I believe it is healthy to talk about sex openly, and that sex is more taboo than it should be, even heterosexual sex). This is something that the LGBTQ community has a much harder time talking about. I know many people who are “ok” with homosexuality…as long as they don’t have to hear about it or see it. So much for being “ok” with it. That’s like me saying, “I accept you for who you are, just don’t talk about it to me”. Silencing someone is one of the worst things you can do.
Perhaps one of the first things when you meet someone that people want to know about is whether or not you have a boyfriend or girlfriend. This leads back to the compulsory heterosexuality mentioned in an earlier blog post. Since I identify as male and masculine, people automatically assume that I am straight. Because of this, the questions asked relate to heterosexuality: “do you have a girlfriend,” “what is your ideal girl,” or “who is the hottest female celebrity?” The list goes on and on. This automatically requires me to do one of two things, either I can lie and keep myself in the closet, or I can come out and risk whatever rejection may come. This is practically a daily occurrence for the LGBTQ community.
Moving on, the next privilege I would like to talk about is that of the coming out process. While not every coming out experience goes horribly wrong, or unbelievably right, inevitably, one will. Every time I (or the rest of the community) come out to someone, my stomach ties itself in knots. Most commonly, or at least the most heard of stories generally start out with “I have something to tell you” or some variation thereof. Immediately after saying these words, 1000s of thoughts rush through my head. These range from embracement, to rejection and every other reaction. While I may seem cool and collected on the outside, inside is a rush of emotions and chaos. There is really no other feeling like it that I have experienced. Coming out, at least for me, is both frightening and exciting. It allows me to be myself with that person for the duration of our relationship.
I feel that this blog is getting a little too long, so it appears there will be a third installment coming in the next couple of days or so, since I feel I have significantly more to say. In the first blog about heterosexual privilege, I made a call at the end. This time, I have an assignment that I believe will yield some interesting reactions for you. To friends you know, to family, call them. Come out to them. Not as something you do not identify as. Come out as yourself. If you’re straight, come out as such, if you’re gay (and comfortable) (notice how I need to add the “and comfortable” to the gay one, but not the straight one), come out as gay to people. However, for the heterosexual people out there, if you use “I have something to tell you”, make sure you pause. Pause for about 10 seconds. Think about the things the LGBTQ community must go through in this 1-20 (the range is much greater, I’m sure) seconds after you say that.
No comments:
Post a Comment