Dear straight friends,
Okay, look. I love you a lot. You play a pivotal part in my life as an ally and as a friend. You share a lot of the same angers as I do when it comes to social issues regarding the LGBTQ+ community, and you hurt for me in a truly breathtakingly genuine way whenever life hands me homophobic lemons and then tells me to choke on the lemonade it takes a great deal of upper-body strength to make.
But there's a few things that you do, say, and ask that make me channel a higher power to keep my eyes from rolling into the back of my head and never coming back around again.
Don't try to set me up. Please. The only other gay person you know is not going to be my soulmate. Please don't set us up. Both of us living the same day-to-day shuffle of same-sex liking is not compatibility. I appreciate the support, and the gesture has your whole heart in it. But stop. Odds are I'll have more in common with a turkey sandwich than I do your friend Jennifer, who is into pop ballads and watching the Spelling Bee like a sporting event. Think of it this way, you wouldn't set your friend Amanda, who likes cats and knitting and getting obsessed with T.V. shows, up with Jeremy, who hates cats and hates crafts and thinks T.V. rots people's brains out, right? The same thing applies to setting up your friend Sara, who likes reading and swimming and doodling pictures of Nanami and Tomoe being cute until it hurts, with Cheryl, who never reads and hates anything that involves being outside or movement in general. I get that you feel like you've found another unicorn, and that you must share this new unicorn with your unicorn in hopes that we'll fall in magic rainbow love. But, odds are, we know your new unicorn and the two of us have already decided to graze different pastures.
Don't ask "whose on top?" or "Who's the guy/girl in the relationship?" For one, power paradigms in relationships are toxic, gay or straight. Two, don't assign heteronormative classifiers to homosexual relationships, they don't compute. Three, it's an equal partnership, as all partnerships, gay or straight, should be. Four, I personally do not like being heterosexualized. It trivializes the very way that I love and am loved in regards to pursuits of the heart. It's also kind of gross and makes everyone that isn't you super uncomfortable.
Don't add "no homo" to the end of "I love you." I know you love me in that sweet familial platonic way. I know this because that's the exact same way I love you. Just because I am attracted to someone with your gender, doesn't mean I'm going to be attracted to you. Please get that already. Assuming your non-hetero friends "want your bod" just because you have a tiny smidgen of the things they're attracted too is a great way to ruin an otherwise wonderful friendship.
Don't ask bisexuals if they're still bisexual whenever they're in heterosexual relationships. It doesn't matter if your bisexual friend Courtney is dating a Lumberjack Sam. She's still bisexual. John can marry Margaret and still be bisexual. Don't you think it's a bit odd, anyway, asking someone if their identity disappears because they're in a certain type of relationship? Yeah, I thought so.
Don't ask a new trans friend about their transition until you know for certain that they're comfortable talking about it. Curiosity is natural, it's what makes us all human (or cats, depending on who's reading this). But be courteous of their privacy. Transitioning can be a touchy subject for some men and women, and they may not quite be comfortable enough with you to talk about it yet. Also, do not misgender. Accidents happen, especially if you've known someone for years prior to their transitioning. Apologize and correct yourself. Make an effort to call yourself out on it, even when referencing them in conversation when they aren't around or when you're thinking about how much you love and honor them when you're alone (I, for one, am currently thinking about how much I love my brother, Tea, at this very moment, and have trained myself to not misgender him. Because the last thing I want to do is hurt him or alienate him). Intentionally misgendring someone is a completely different ballgame. I consider intentionally misgendering someone harassment and hate speech, and so do a great deal of others.
Don't use the royal "we" when referencing the LGBTQ+ community. You are an ally of the community, not a member of it. I personally try to refrain from the royal "we," because my concerns and experiences don't reflect that of all sexuality minority peoples. But the royal "we" is even more frustrating coming from someone outside of the community. Don't get me wrong, I personally appreciate what you do to spread awareness for the hardships and strugglebusses those of sexuality minorities are forced to board, but you're not actually a part of the LGBTQ+ community. Do not get offended or hurt by this. It's not meant as an attack on you, as a straight person. It is not meant to alienate you, or push you out. It's just a matter of respecting your non-hetero friend's safe space and identity (because someone should). You can't be a part of a community surrounding sexuality minorities as someone who is a sexuality majority. You can be an ally to the community, though, which is still incredibly close to the community. You're still significant, and I still cherish your role in helping fight the good fight. But, by taking away the significance of your position as ally and not member, you not only trivialize the significance of your supporting role as ally but you trivialize the experiences (and sometimes lives) of those actually in the community living experiences that you never will.
Lastly, don't try to appropriate my fear. I face a very real, specific danger as an openly LGBTQ+ person that you cannot and will not face. Yes, you can be attacked at Pride and when you go with your friends to the LGBTQ+ center at your school or to a gay bar or club. But you don't have to jerk away from your partner in public when you hear a car backfiring. You don't have to think twice, three times, a hundred times about how you're going to refer to your partner to strangers in civil conversations. You don't have to police your interactions to keep yourself safe the ways that LGBTQ+ people do. You can be afraid for your friends who are suffering through the intricacies of the millions of closets they will have to maneuver around every single day of their lives. But you cannot claim from me sorrow and fear that I have earned, that you have not. Because it really freaking hurts.
Continue trying to support and love me, your LGBTQ+ friend, even if you don't quite get where I'm coming from most of the time. And I will try my best to do the same!
Forever colorful,
Your LGBTQ+ friend
