And maybe this is crazy, but I feel like there’s something genuinely queer about passing as queer. It’s nice to be relieved of that impulse, to feel like I can just be myself and let others think what they want. Men can be so preoccupied with seeming straight or masculine.
Maybe passing as gay is my form of “drag:” a kind of liberating performance that reveals how we’re really performing all the time. Is this some misguided form of straight guilt? By using neutral pronouns and descriptors in the way I speak, am I being politically sensitive or just cultivating misperception? Most problematic of all, am I unfairly appropriating queer culture, hoping for some kind of privilege or a certain kind of respect? Or instead am I forgoing the straight privileges most of us take for granted? Frankly, I don’t know. I don’t seek to suppress sexuality altogether, but especially in a work environment or with new friends, I don’t want to impose my (normative) sexuality on anyone. The thing is, people are always “coming out” in little ways, mentioning a boyfriend or a wife in conversation, or commenting on their attractions or sexploits. Women who think I’m gay talk to me about shopping, which is perfect, because I love shopping, and everyone always mentions their best gay friends to me. I don’t want to feel like I’m misleading people, but it’s fascinating to let others’ assumptions run wild.
Socially, I’ve even come to enjoy passing as gay. When nice men hit on me, I’m always flattered and a little sorry I can’t help them out. And yes, my “vibes” or whatever they are can confuse gay guys. Not everyone agrees, and so not all women go for femme or bi guys. Personally, I think sexual ambiguity can be sexy and powerful - that’s part of why I don’t mind the confusion. “Sure you’re not,” I’m used to hearing them say, or “You know, there’s nothing wrong with being gay.” Whoa, newsflash! Nor do I categorically correct folks who assume I’m gay. Perhaps this adds to the confusion, as do my female roommates and meticulous wardrobe, but I don’t mind. In college, I concentrated in lesbian and gay studies, and these days I write about queer issues and events. Maybe that’s because I’m so frequently misread as gay that I’ve come to identify closely with queer people. It’s an odd state of affairs, but I’m not complaining. Is my experience the flipside of the old normal? No one wants to live in a box, and a presumed standard of straightness can be a straight jacket.īut in our historically queer capital and urban America generally, effeminate straight men like me are often presumed to be gay until proven otherwise. Straight women have to wonder if even the most masculine men aren’t into them. That is, we assume all men and women might not be so straight, or we remove our assumptions from the picture altogether.
If the world at large is heteronormative - forcing queer people to contend with a culture that assumes that straight is normal - here in San Francisco, it might be fair to say that we’re somehwat homonormative. It didn’t help that this was my neighbor, a friend who had observed my comings and goings for months.įolks back home with suspicions about my sexuality weren’t surprised to hear that I was moving to San Francisco. “Wait, you’re straight?” she asked incredulously. For example, the most recent girl I kissed - and the one before that, and so on - drew back from my face, laughing. But I wasn’t alone in my assumptions, nor was I the last to make them.
Sign up for The Bold Italic newsletter to get the best of the Bay Area in your inbox every week. At some point, I learned that these are stereotypically gay male traits, and then I knew: I was going to grow up to be a gay man. I was the first person to assume I was gay.Īs a kid, I talked with a lisp and hated sports, and I preferred to sing and study.