Emily's Point

Whenever there’s a discussion regarding the nature of heteronormativity and its prevalence in society, both in a historical and modern context, the tone surrounding the topic can be quite removed; perhaps reductive is the better word. 

Oftentimes, we take social structures like this and subvert them to the specific individual actions that keep the power dynamics between groups of people imbalanced, rather than tailor our analysis to focus on the systems put in place to keep the structures intact. Ergo, a critique of white supremacy is reduced to simple acts of racist violence rather than a communal upholding of white self-importance; an analysis on the dangers of patriarchy swiftly devolves into a man-bashing fit rather than an introspection of our impulsive hesitation to empower women; and any notion to the existence of the societal centering of heterosexuality is subsumed into a conversation about the religious virtue of having sex “the right way” rather than focusing on the question, “how can we assume anyone’s sexuality at all?” 

I talk about this in detail on my podcast and in my lectures at my local community college. When asked to dive deeper –- to add more context -– I find it easiest to articulate my point using a personal anecdote as an example.

Let’s say, for instance, you’re born into a typical American family in the Southeastern region of the country; that is to say, you undergo your most crucial years of development in an environment that emphasizes the importance of the command for respect, endurance through adversity, and faith in the Christian God. Although they mean well, your parents instill within your precious, little mind an archaic blueprint to construct the life they deem to be abundant; repress your female sexuality, find a nice boy, have your dream wedding, bare his children. 

“No one ever taught us how to raise a gay daughter. We did the best with what we had,” they tell you years later when you bring it up, and they’re right. Who could blame them for expecting their child to be an exact copy of themselves? In this social structure of “sexuality assumption,” why would they instinctively consider any other possibility? 

As you grow, you notice signs early in your childhood that you are not like the other people in your surroundings. It’s in the way they respond when you reenact the macho mannerisms of the people you admire, or take interest in the activities of the boys up the street, or even advocate for a shorter, edgier hairstyle. You are met with an inquisitive frown, as if they aren’t quite able to put their finger on what exactly makes you other. However, your parents are not the main dealers of this judgment; you feel the full weight of this scrutiny with your peers, the little demons in your school that regurgitate the same heteronormative ideals they’ve also absorbed from your shared environment. But they aren’t all bad.

You meet this girl, Tiana. You and she become close in your sophomore year of high school. You confide in and support each other, forging a relationship that is strong and affectionate. A levee breaks, and you are able to blossom with this person unlike with anyone else you’ve encountered so far. Tiana goes on to become the only person in your tiny, adolescent life who sees you, really sees you; your proverbial plank of wood as you’re adrift in the sea of pubescence.  

Eventually, the two of you outgrow the smalltown life and seek to discover yourselves at a four-year university. It is here that you make a pact to embrace radical growth, and you indeed grow. In this environment where you are afforded the space to question your upbringing without being shut down, where you meet people from all walks of life who challenge the values you’ve internalized, where you are encouraged to develop opinions and theories that would garner ridicule back home; you grow!

And Tiana grows too, albeit in a less radical direction. The two of you share your newfound interests and identities with each other and your relationship deepens. You finally feel comfortable enough in your own being to declare that you are proud to deviate from the status quo. In an act of defiance, you come out of the closet, donning the title of lesbian as a badge of honor. Your new college friends are supportive, and Tiana is too. 

“I’m so proud of you,” she says, and you believe her. Why wouldn’t you? She is your best friend. 

Shortly after, however, she begins to move differently when you’re around, which is to be expected. She comes from the same heteronormative environment you’re actively working to mentally deconstruct. You’re concerned that this conditioning might interfere with your friendship, but you’re a rational person. You understand that it will take some time for her to reaccustom herself to your new identity, but you cannot hide your excitement to explore this uncharted territory you’ve suppressed for so long. It is only when the two of you are alone that Tiana reveals the reason behind her unease; she, too, has latent feelings of same-sex attraction. Your coming out inspired her to go inward, to reevaluate herself. In a whirl of youthful jubilation, the two of you share an intimate kiss. 

Of course, your exploration of same-sex attraction doesn’t stop there. When you make love to each other, not only is it deeply affirming on a physical level –- quenching the years-long insatiable thirst of your unexpressed desire -- but emotionally you become entangled. You’ve found a home in this person, and in this new home you feel seen again, as if for the first time but in a different light. You feel welcomed. You feel safe. However, this safety is short-lived.

Over the following days and weeks, Tiana grows reclusive and distant, eventually breaking off all communication entirely. You’re floored at the sudden shift in character and left with unanswered questions. How did this happen? Why is she doing this? Did I do something to cause her to run away? You search for an acceptable explanation in any way you can, at one point cornering her in a futile attempt to strong arm an end to your torture. 

“Leave me alone, Emily! I don’t want to see you ever again!” 

The words burn in your ears and leave you disoriented. Your heart shatters. The only person who would console you in this situation is the perpetrator of the offense. This is the loneliest you’ve ever felt in your short adult life, losing your lover and your best friend simultaneously. You sink into your own despair, but you do not stay there. After all, you are the product of a typical American family from the Southeastern region of the country. You command respect, you endure adversity, and you have faith that your god will guide you through this.

Slowly but surely, you pick up the pieces of your shattered heart and reassemble your ability to trust. You rely heavily on your new college friends. They love and support you through your recovery. You occasionally bump into Tiana on campus, but she ignores you. Her hardened indifference continues to sting; but over time, it loses its bite. You accept that you’ll never get the closure you were desperate to obtain, and you abandon any vindictive feelings you have left for her. You learn how to be a dignified ex-lover. 

You pour all the love you would have given Tiana into your work. You go on to get a master’s degree, and then a second. You accept a job in Atlanta and move to the Peach State to start your new life. Tiana fades into the periphery, but she doesn’t disappear. You are generally aware of the basics that pertain to her progression; she has graduated with honors, moved to Charlotte, and is starting to craft a life of her own. For the first time in a long time, you are happy for her. 

You spend years working with grass-roots social organizations and non-profits. Your network grows and you become a well-known figure with the liberation movement in Atlanta. You shake hands the governor and dine with CEOs of major corporations. You become a published author. You go on to have many other sexual encounters with many other women. You fall in love again, twice. You break up, twice. As your life unfolds, you all but forget about the first woman to break your heart. Until one day, you get a text.

Tiana wants to meet with you -- this Christmas. You’re not afraid or angry, just reluctant. What could she possibly want after all this time? Why now? Is she finally ready to talk? The nagging voice in your head doesn’t rest. You reply, “sure, we can meet. I’ll be in town the Thursday before Christmas. Coffee?” As the day approaches, you mull over every detail you can recall from that bygone era. Your unanswered questions resurface. 

You’re the first to arrive at the coffee shop and you settle on tea; coffee makes you jittery and you’ll need your wits about you for this conversation. Christmas time in your hometown always makes you sentimental, but you must be strong. It is imperative that she see you as strong. Tiana enters and she’s as beautiful as you remember, but there’s something off, a minor detail missing. The spark that she’s always carried behind her smile is dim. In that moment, you decide not to lead but to follow. Just like everything else with this woman, this conversation will only go as far as she is comfortable to take it. 

You exchange pleasantries and trade superficial updates on what is occurring in your lives; all of which is obviously available on social media. She recalls fun times the two of you had at high school football games and you do a quick dip into the topic of the current political melodrama playing out in the media. She asks about your mother, and you respond, “oh, she’s doing fine.” Your patience is wearing thin; did she really summon you here for this? How much longer can she avoid the topic? Your responses get shorter. There is an awkward pause.

Finally, Tiana reveals the reason she’s asked to see you. You brace yourself. Is it to talk about the betrayal? Has she reflected on her actions and wishes to offer reasoning? Does she, at the very least, apologize? No. She wants to inform you that she’ll be moving to Atlanta in February to start a new job and is looking to reconnect with old friends who live in the city. She’s hoping to get a few recommendations on areas where she can begin her apartment search and also wants to know your schedule -- two months in advance -- to plan a time to hangout.

You sit with this. Here is the young girl who used you to dabble in sexual experimentation, only to discard you because you believe she couldn’t contend with the shame. You spent years accusing her of being unable to break free from the psychological chains of your shared upbringing, resulting in her abandoning you while you were at your most vulnerable. This young girl, now a grown woman, thinks the two of you can move forward without an apology and be friends. You’re tempted to tell her off. Any unresolved hurt you have left wants nothing more than to splash your tea in her face and call her a coward; but doing so, using that reasoning, would be a copout. Not for her, for you. 

On the surface, it is easy to accuse Tiana of cowardice; however, such an accusation misses the point. It is completely possible that through this experimentation she has determined for herself that the labels “lesbian” or “bisexual” do not appropriately characterize her sexual desires. It is possible that she is still on her journey of self-discovery and experimentation; or maybe her journey has concluded all together. That is for her to determine, not you. And neither is it your place to determine what type of sex she should or shouldn't be comfortable having based solely off of your world view. This is the type of prison that "sexuality assumption" creates.

Upon a deeper analysis, you come to understand that the pain she caused was a result of her immaturity and unwillingness to effectively communicate where her head was at; not her inability to accurately categorize her authentic sexual preference. A simple conversation could have spared you years of trauma. If she were to be honest with you then -- like you wish she would be honest with you now -- maybe you could respect her. But you don’t, so you politely decline her olive branch and leave the coffee shop.

The point that I am making is instead of demanding that people fit into the narrow descriptions of sexuality and/or sexual expression that we ourselves have individually outlined on their behalf to be either legitimate or illegitimate, our society should aim to grant the respect and freedom to all people -- whether they are secure enough to voice their genuine interests or not -- to define their own sexual identities. This fundamental change to the age-old social norm, I believe, would shift the focus away from the centralization of a specific type of attraction and toward the answer to the question...

“How can we assume anyone’s sexuality at all?”