As a semi-withdrawn gay man, I have never had the urge to open an account with Grindr, a social networking app tailored to the male-oriented orientations of the LGBTQ spectrum. With the help of Grindr, a gay, bi or bi-curious man can connect with the greater community geosocially, by literally locating other like-minded men within a close proximity to the user. Even though, in my opinion, the prospect of meeting my soulmate with the help of a cellphone application seems less than appealing, Grindr has become quite the phenomenon, and many of my closest friends have profiles.
Unfortunately, in recent years, Grindr has, for the most part, become a way of meeting men for a cheap hookup, and it is this dating service of sorts that brought to light a norm in the gay community that I had not actually considered, despite the fact that this malignant custom has touched my life over the years.
Last month, a friend of mine gave me a tour of Grindr, and, to my horror, I stumbled across many profiles that, when describing their perfect match, read “no femmes.”
This phrase got me thinking about my life and the presence of homophobia within the gay community that is largely geared toward those who exhibit more “feminine tendencies.”
Although it is, in many ways, human nature to apply a hierarchical component to people or things, this sort of discrimination is unacceptable, and, frankly, unhelpful to the cause of equality.
Yet, this hateful rhetoric is not just present in the Grindr community, but in the greater gay community as well.
This issue of internalized homophobia not only unearths the presence of harmful hierarchies within a subjugated group, but also begs the question: Why are female characteristics seen as less desirable in every facet of life?
The notion of hegemonic masculinity, or the Western perception that there is a singular, true type of masculinity upon which all other constructions are measured, leaves every other group — women, many ethnic minorities and a large chunk of the homosexual community — subjugated without warrant.
Thus, those men who display characteristics that do not fall within this narrow view of masculinity are discriminated against by those who see themselves as representative of the archetypal masculinity, even if those men are gay.
Unfortunately, this notion of untarnished, societally acceptable masculinity trumps group solidarity, leaving a diverse sphere like the gay community fragmented and ridden with animosity. As a feminine gay man, I am able to provide a couple of instances in which this discrimination has affected my life and the way in which I view myself.
Ever since I was young, I have exhibited many characteristics that most would deem “feminine.” I have a high-pitched voice, a slight build, and my mannerisms are anything but masculine. Thus, this discrimination, albeit subtle, has touched my life in more than a few tangible ways. I have been told on countless occasions that I am just too “feminine,” and my potential mate was looking for someone with a bit “more strength and manly vigor.” (Yes, that is a quote.)
Yet, whenever I encountered phrases like these, I never considered the terrible damage it was doing subconsciously. These vile words negatively affected my self-esteem as a newly initiated member of the LGBTQ community, and I imagine these discriminatory slurs have the same effect on other gay teens who are looking for acceptance, particularly among other LGBTQ youth.
I think, psychologically, I understood their critiques. I mean, why would a guy want to be with a man who is nurturing, patient and gentle? In many ways, I agreed with their criticisms. This sort of thinking is perhaps the most dangerous aspect of this entire practice: These boys and men receive so much flak from almost all corners of society due to their nonconformist qualities, and to also be diminished by those within the community with which you identify can be devastating. I am lucky enough to be able to internalize all the hate I encounter every day — from those within and without my community — however, some are not so thick skinned.
In my mind, the best way to combat this norm is to understand that the gay community is completely different when compared to the straight community. Thus, the qualities that are associated with a straight relationship should not be superimposed upon a gay partnership.
Men do not have to be strong and reserved, and there does not need to be a “male” partner and a “female” partner. Perhaps the most infuriating question I receive from others about my sexuality is, “So, are you the woman in the relationship?” I mean, for heck’s sake, I am not looking to be in a conventional male-female-style relationship. That is why I am gay. Therefore, it is our duty, as gay men and women, to educate people, to help them understand we are an extremely diverse community, brimming with feminine people and masculine people and everything in between. This educating process must start from within.
If we want others to accept us for who we are, we must accept each other first.
This internal discrimination is not only harmful to one’s self worth, but it also affects how the gay community is perceived by those that do not use an L, G, B, T or Q to describe their sexuality.
To borrow a quote from the ever beautiful and exceedingly wise RuPaul of “Drag Race” fame: “If you don’t love yourself, how the hell you gonna love somebody else?” And with the burgeoning practice of discrimination from within the gay community, I think this quote has never been timelier.
Christopher VanDemark is a history sophomore at UF. You can contact him via opinons@alligator.org.
