Exhibit A: Myself as a semi-dandy figure, enjoying the sunshine
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Exhibit B: Some thoughts on not being born this way
I
recently pulled a post-it note memory from my brain - a hazy childhood one,
wobbled in crayon. It’s a ‘sexual’ memory of myself and a friend pressing
together two naked Polly Pocket dolls (sound effects included). 10 or so years
later my current brain, on remembering this incident, thought ‘how neat’, ‘how
perfect’. ‘How easy it would be to prove my girl-loving status with this one
memory’. Once upon a time a girl rubbed naked dolls together and now she rubs
her naked girlfriend in a slightly more sophisticated manner. It’s a neat
narrative but I reject it.
Why?
1. I don’t know if a ‘Ken’ style Polly Pocket doll exists, but I never had one.
I was a resourceful child, acting out a sex scene with the dolls I owned and
the gender identity of the dolls didn’t necessarily play a part in this. 2.
Whilst I was the leader in this game, my friend was a willing participant. I
have no information that indicates that this old friend identifies as anything
other than ‘straight’. 3. There’s nothing to say that a sexual/romantic
experience at age 7 is more definitive to understanding your sexual orientation
than one at 17, 37 or 77. 4. Most importantly,
no one action has to determine your sexual orientation. In fact, even a
multitude of post-stick notes don’t have to determine your sexual orientation.
For
the sake of explanation, here are some more of my post-its: I exclusively watch
girl on girl porn. I crushed hard on a boy for the longest time in secondary
school. I regularly read girl on girl erotica. I crushed hard, in a new way, on
my now girlfriend. She is the only partner I’ve had. I crushed regularly on
male teachers as a kid. At the age of 14, when an acquaintance asked me if I
liked boys, I said something like “yes, but I might one day change my mind and
like girls”. Yet I also willingly identified as straight throughout secondary
school. Sometimes in bed I’d imagine I was Julia Roberts in the ‘Pretty Woman’
sex scenes. When I walk down the street I see people that intrigue me in
different ways (I also sometimes think how sad it is that I’ll never have sex
with all the street people. Who are they during sex?). And when I was a kid I
rubbed naked dolls together.
Sometimes,
for the sake of practicality, I order these post-it notes into neat stacks and
compute them into the labels bi/pansexual. But personally, I’d like to think of
the post-its littered amongst the messy desk of my brain. They can be lost, I
can throw some out, I can take a highlighter pen to others and throughout the
years I’ll add many more. And so, organising, ordering and defining can never
encompass this ever changing sexuality.
I use the word sexuality here as
opposed to sexual orientation because sexuality goes much further than what
gender(s) you are (‘nt) attracted to.
Though many of the post-its I’ve included above are gender specific,
they also say a lot about what things, acts, experiences, characteristics and
ways of loving that I’ve been drawn to in the past. The limitless, complex
nature of sexuality is another reason why I prefer not to simplify the
narration of my sexual orientation.
Yet
as a bi/pansexual person whose sexual orientation is often up for question,
double underlining that particular Polly Pocket post-it could have its
advantages. It would give me a neat narrative, one that rationalises and
explains why I like girls. It would enable me to safely (in the very literal
sense of the word safety) state that my orientation is innate. If my
orientation is innate it cannot be changed, which is a useful statement in a
heteronormative environment that may attempt to change it in violent, subtle
and unsubtle ways. If my orientation is innate I cannot be accused of being
unnatural (or worse, perverse). If my orientation is innate, then I didn’t willingly
choose to sin / put my life opportunities at a disadvantage / bring disgrace
upon myself or others associated with me. If my orientation is innate, I
couldn’t help it and it wasn’t mine or my parents or societies fault.
In
the end, I don’t know if the incident with the Polly Pockets proves that my
sexual orientation is innate or not. However I do know that neither position
should make it more or less valid. I do know that I have no obligation to prove
my orientation. I also don’t need my orientation to be turned into a blame-game
because it is not inherently negative to not be heterosexual. There be no need
for fault or blame. There be no reason for me to change my orientation and
there be no reason for me to justify it either. Simultaneously, I recognise
that this is the position of a privileged few, of whom I’m lucky to be part of.
I
also know that I’m benefiting from the born this way narrative even if I don’t
tell it. I know that parts of society are only coming to accept me because it
is believed that I was born this way. I wouldn’t give up any of this acceptance
over an ideological discrepancy but I do hope this acceptance won’t continue to
hinge on the born this way theory. I also recognise that not everyone who tells
the born this way story are doing so for the reasons I have rationalised
above. My own wish to reject this
narrative is not more radical, progressive or valid though I will admit that I
get wary when I hear narratives that correlate outstepping ones gender role
with one’s sexual orientation (e.g. the idea that a boy playing with Barbie’s
revealed an early sign of his gayness).
Coincidentally, in a sexy book I recently read,
Katherine Angel talks about her writing and narratives, stating ‘One can turn one’s nose up (and plenty of people
do) at individual narratives. There are dangers in the language of the first
person; the dangers, for instance, of taking an individual narrative as
speaking for others, of obscuring or rendering invisible or illegitimate other
narratives. Another motivation for suspicion of the individual narrative is on
the grounds that is merely anecdotal, or too suffused with personal investment
to be admissible into the ranks of knowledge.’ [1] She pretty much sums it all up well - all personal narratives have
personal credibility, yet none must speak for all. What I mean to say is, if the born this way narrative can be the
subject of a number one single then it must have some mainstream precedence.
But if you don’t really feel like dancing to ‘Born this Way’, then know that
I’ll be standing on the edges with my post-stick notes, writing about why ‘Born
this way’ is not my queer anthem.
[1] Katherine Angel, ‘Getting Beneath: Sex and the individual’, in The Institute of Sexology, ed. by Sarah Auld (London: Welcome Collection, 2014) pp.20-25 (p. 25).
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1. I wrote the piece above something like a year ago. Close to a year ago, Ingrid Nilsen made her youtube coming out video. By casual chance, I decided to watch it recently and I was struck by the way in which she talks about repressing her sexuality. What this all means, I don't know. But on an emotional level at least, I was struck. Listening to someone talking about the weight of being born gay is a reminder to me to respect that position and to never be blase about that narrative, even if it may differ from my own.
2. I would probably situate all of this within a number of other contexts now. I would think about 'political lesbianism' a little, about choosing a sexuality/position as part of your politics? I would think about how for some this maybe 'desexualizes' one's sexuality. I would think about Foucault (oh god, I'm sorry I went there....I'm really a theory baby!) and 'The History of Sexuality' and the idea that sexuality is not some autonomous drive, but constructed and contingent on history. I'm less interested in why one might identify as something, and more interested in what certain identities may provide (for individuals and societies alike). I'm not sure where this will lead me.
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[1] Katherine Angel, ‘Getting Beneath: Sex and the individual’, in The Institute of Sexology, ed. by Sarah Auld (London: Welcome Collection, 2014) pp.20-25 (p. 25).
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Exhibit C: A breather and some blossom. The blossom from my bedroom window is such a lovely sight.
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Exhibit D: Some reflections
1. I wrote the piece above something like a year ago. Close to a year ago, Ingrid Nilsen made her youtube coming out video. By casual chance, I decided to watch it recently and I was struck by the way in which she talks about repressing her sexuality. What this all means, I don't know. But on an emotional level at least, I was struck. Listening to someone talking about the weight of being born gay is a reminder to me to respect that position and to never be blase about that narrative, even if it may differ from my own.
2. I would probably situate all of this within a number of other contexts now. I would think about 'political lesbianism' a little, about choosing a sexuality/position as part of your politics? I would think about how for some this maybe 'desexualizes' one's sexuality. I would think about Foucault (oh god, I'm sorry I went there....I'm really a theory baby!) and 'The History of Sexuality' and the idea that sexuality is not some autonomous drive, but constructed and contingent on history. I'm less interested in why one might identify as something, and more interested in what certain identities may provide (for individuals and societies alike). I'm not sure where this will lead me.
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Exhibit D: A final tumblr note of wisdom.
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Sofie
