PUBLISHED: 12TH JUNE 2020
THE PROBLEM
Although acceptance of LGBTQ women in the UK is at a high, prevailing conservative attitudes, particularly in rural areas where the existence of university advocacy associations and centres is less likely, it can still be difficult to be out at this time. The National LGBTQ Survey suggested that LGBTQ folks still rate life satisfaction lower than their cis/straight counterparts and every social media post that I have seen celebrating Pride is met with homophobic abuse and calls for boycotting. So, I would like to share my experiences as an LGBTQ woman and how the familial expectations on me as a woman are affected by my identity.
Coming to university has been a real culture shock for me, these past few years. Pride is a weekend-long parade rather than an online chat because someone complained to the venue at the last minute and got it cancelled. Lecturers make a conscious effort to include LGBTQ fiction on our course and I haven’t been called ‘gay’ for innocuous – and unrelated – reasons in many years. This experience has gotten me thinking about how I grew up and how my life in a small town could help others in a similar situation.
Let me introduce myself. I am a lesbian from the rural British county of Shropshire where, on the whole, conservative attitudes towards women and romantic/sexual expectations are still prevalent. My family are mostly old-school conservatives in their attitudes towards marriage, having children and sexuality. I love them all very much, but this is a constant point of contention between myself and my older relatives in particular. I am half-out to them – I have some relatives that are accepting of hints and allusions to my sexuality, and others that I daren’t say anything.
The problem that I face, and I know many others do too, is that the consequences of coming out would be neither disastrous nor pleasant.
I often have this thought: ‘it could be worse’. This is 100% true, but what I have to remind myself and what I hope to remind others, is that you don’t have to be grateful that it isn’t worse. Many people that I know would not be disowned by their parents for coming out. I wouldn’t be either. The problem comes where I know I would only be shown the barest of tolerance from the people who I love the most. It is the sense that this would be ‘a step too far’ in my already non-traditional lifestyle for some of my closest relatives.
I write this because I know lots of people struggle to mesh love for their family and being directly affected by their family’s homophobic views.. It can also feel hard to admit that it is something that your parents or grandparents or even siblings believe in. I love my family, but I often feel that my willingness to ignore their comments is a betrayal of part of who I am. As hard as it is to hear homophobic discussion over the dinner table, it would be harder to let them know that my beliefs are fundamentally incompatible with theirs.
My parents did not attack me for coming out to them, but they pretty much ignored it. I get a ‘your future husband…or wife, or whatever’ and the constant assumption that I will change my mind when it comes to children. I have also found that some of their prejudice applies only to women. Some of my relatives have even admitted that they think it is ‘worse’ for a woman to be LGBTQ because it is ‘her job’ to have a husband and children.
The expectations that my family have for me vis-à-vis marriage are seemingly straightforward: get married (to a man), have 2-3 children (with said man), raise them traditionally as cis/straight and, as an added bonus, don’t take on a career too exhausting so that I have plenty of child-raising energy. I do not disparage those who chose this life, but it is not one that I want. It is a difficult thing to imagine that, whatever you do with your life and no matter how happy you are with it, you will most likely disappoint your parents in some way. I try not to worry about not giving my parents grandchildren – it is my decision and my life. But it is hard. And I want you to know that, if you worry about this, it is normal, although I urge to act based on what you want when it comes to family.
The other issue you might face is the assumption that being LGBTQ is the reason that you don’t want a ‘traditional’ family life. Personally, my sexuality has very little to do with not wanting children, but parts of my family assumed that it did. It is perfectly possible for an LGBTQ person to have a ‘traditional’ family. But many people do not see this, and this is why my family have equated my non-traditional lifestyle of travelling, moving a lot, tattoos, coloured hair, and veganism with being LGBTQ. They see it as something unusual and to those that I am out to see everything non-traditional that I do as an extension of my sexuality and identity.
You may find, I certainly did, that another strange thing happens if you decide to come out to any family members. When I was young, I heard family members talking negatively about LGBTQ folks and just accepted that this is what they thought. Now, when I ask, ‘what if it were me?’, I get the reply that it is something my family would ‘just have to deal with’. Or, if I am lucky, ‘it’s fine if it’s you, darling’. They assume I will be grateful for any level of acceptance, even if they are openly barely tolerating the existence of my and many of my friends. They assume I am somehow different because they know me. I found that I was expected to be grateful that they would make an exception in their disdain for the LGBTQ community.
SOME SOLUTIONS
These are only some of the issues that someone from a traditional family can face when coming out. I would like to clarify that I am a cisgender woman from a predominantly white background, so the perspective that I can offer here is limited. I offer this story if only to provide a sense of solidarity with any woman struggling with family or community circumstances that are apparently at odds with their LGBTQ identity.
If you are still in education, your college, school, or university will likely have in-house support available to you. Most universities have an LGBTQ association (which respect privacy if coming out would affect your family situation) and most BAME associations/Disabled Students’ Associations have LGBT reps specifically to advocate for you. MIND has a section for LGBTQ folks which offers support for coming out to family and friends. GLAAD and Stonewall have dedicated sections for support when dealing with any family issues that you may encounter.
Alternatively, friends can be a great source of support when your family is not willing to fully accept you. My friends have been wonderful and many of them have been through something similar. Sharing your feelings and concerns may help you work through them. For example, I often tell my friends that not wanting children worries me for what my mother will think. They understand that I do not want to hurt her or anyone else but reassure me that it is my decision alone.
Below I would like to include some resources that are specific to communities to which I do not belong, so that anyone who wishes to might access these for more directed support.
Keshet UK: promoting inclusion in Jewish schools, colleges, workplaces and more. Links to other social and religious groups for support for you and your family.
Hidayah: advocating for inclusion of LGBTQ people into Islam
Imaan: a London-based group that supports LGBTQ Muslims
Sarbat: advocating for LGBTQ Sikhs.
GLAAD, LGBT Foundation and Stonewall also have information specifically for BAME and religious minority LGBTQ people.
Mermaids.org: support for transgender youth up to 19
Trans Unite: a ‘UK directory of support groups for gender-variant people’
I said earlier that you do not have to be grateful that it isn’t worse. I understand and appreciate that some LGBTQ individuals have more or less accepting families than I do. Homophobia comes in different forms to snide comments, overt intolerance and being characterised as ‘other’ but things like this are more common than you imagine. It can be difficult to call someone out for these things because they are often small, and it is often hard to pinpoint exactly what is wrong with what has been said. It can be difficult putting into words what bothers you when you know you do not have to fear physical violence or estrangement as a result of your identity. This is particularly true when it intersects with sexist attitudes and familial assumptions about family and marriage. I would only like to reassure anyone reading this that your concerns are valid, and you are right to be put out by smaller incidences of intolerance. They are indicative of a wider problem and attention ought to be brought to them.
I hope that anyone struggling with their family’s perception of their identity feels able to speak out, either to family members themselves or to support organisations and friends. Having to deviate from lifelong expectations in order to be who you are can be difficult and a strain on your mental health. However, I fully support those who follow their gut and be who they are. Having done it myself, I know how hard it can be, but I am happier for it and I hope that, by sharing, I can assist others in this situation too.
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