Tensions are high in the queer community. In a year when the Pulse shooting in Orlando has brought anti-LGBT violence into the media spotlight, and Donald Trump is running for President on a platform that has been called the most conservative, anti-LGBT platform in history, queer folks are feeling increasingly protective of queer spaces, and increasingly wary of straight folks who may be in those spaces.

I don’t blame anyone for feeling uneasy. As a queer woman, I have never subscribed to the notion that straight allies are inherently entitled to join spaces that were created to be a space away from straight people. I’ve always rolled my eyes at accusations of being “ungrateful” for the support of straight allies, and I certainly don’t believe that it’s “reverse discrimination” to tell straight people to get out of queer spaces. There are valid reasons for queer people to be concerned about straight people taking up space at queer events. For one thing, the entire rest of the world is for straight people. For another, there is a legitimate problem with the way straight, cisgender people consume queer and trans culture. Showing up to Pride to “people watch” ­– which really means gawk at people and take pictures of them without their consent – or going to gay clubs with an all-straight group of friends is definitely not an appropriate way to show “support” for the queer community. I’m all for creating boundaries with straight folks and pointing out that kind of problematic behavior.

But I have witnessed a growing trend of gatekeeping that ultimately makes queer folks, not straight folks, feel unwelcome. At the root of the issue is the assumption that you can tell by looking at someone whether or not they’re straight or cisgender.

Picture this. You’re at a Pride event, and you see someone who you read as female holding hands with someone who you read as male. They’re a straight couple, right? So they don’t belong at Pride! Not so fast.

1. One or both of them could be trans and/or non-binary.

Contrary to transphobic rhetoric, you cannot tell if someone is cis or trans just by looking at them, nor can you tell whether they’re a man, woman or non-binary. Just because someone reads as a certain gender to you does not actually mean that they are that gender.

2. Another possibility is that one or both of them is bisexual, pansexual or another multi-gender attracted identity.

Just because they may be coupled with someone of a different gender does not make them any less queer, and they are still entitled to go to events such as Pride. In fact, bisexual people experience some of the lowest levels of community support, and desperately need to be welcomed into queer spaces.

3. Yet another possibility is that one or both of them is asexual and/or aromantic.

You may have heard gatekeepers say that asexual and aromantic people are “basically straight,” but in reality, they are members of the queer community who need access to support, resources and opportunities to connect with people who have had similar experiences. Like the rest of the queer community, asexual and aromantic folks are negatively affected by heteronormativity, and may benefit from spending time away from straight spaces.

I have heard and read countless stories of queer and trans people being harassed at Pride and other queer events because someone perceived them as straight. This harassment can come in many forms, from referring to a straight-perceived couple as “breeders” (a term which has misogynistic, anti-Black, and biphobic implications), to asking someone, “Why are you even here? You don’t look gay.” It’s heartbreaking to imagine showing up to a place that’s supposed to be an escape from prejudice, only to encounter a different kind.

The bottom line is, there is no way to tell whether someone is a member of the queer community just by looking at them, and discourse about straight people invading queer spaces often disregards that fact, erasing the identities and experiences of many people who are queer. While it is important to maintain our own spaces, we need to be more cognizant of how we confront the issue and consider who is getting left out of the conversation.