Me and my tiny homophobia
When I realized I had a crush on a girl, I started to recognize a bit of internalized homophobia inside me.
As my heart pounds, I notice the questions and confusion within me, wondering how she sees me, if I’m meeting the expectations of a relationship. Yet, I feel misplaced.
In heterosexual relationships, many dating responsibilities fall on men. Men are expected to pursue, confess, plan good dates, and provide good sex.
It’s common to hear women openly say, “He’s so bad at sex!” but rarely do men say, “She’s so bad!” because men are expected to lead and take charge. If something goes wrong on a date or in bed, the blame often falls on them. I realized that these stereotypes I grew up with are part of the problem.
I feel unattractive when I show masculinity around men I’m interested in romantically, yet equally stressed when displaying femininity with a woman I have a crush on. I love every part of who I am: I love the masculine side that gives me assertiveness, courage, initiative, intelligence, and confidence. But I also cherish the softness, sweetness, gentleness, thoughtfulness, and maturity that come from my femininity. When these two worlds clash in front of others, though, I struggle to know where I fit.
To work through this, I’ve started a deeper analysis of my values around beauty standards, femininity versus masculinity, and what romance and love mean to me.
And then it hit me: my core problem might just be…
I’m too hot.
Wait, wait… I know you’re probably laughing! But give me a second to explain. As someone who’s socially aware, I know how to present myself to meet people’s standards of attractiveness — in my clothes, in the way I talk, in how I act. But sometimes, it comes at the expense of who I really am. I know how to appeal to both men and women by navigating these heterosexual social norms, but in doing so, I feel boxed in, unable to express myself freely.
So, maybe I’m actually being oppressed by something… patriarchy? Is that the right word?
Anyway, I know all my knowledgeable feminist friends have spent years studying serious essays and research. But are those books even understandable? Do I really want to spend years dissecting them?
Or maybe…
I'd rather be oppressed. (?)