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Why I chose to share my pronouns

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Today marks the start of Pride Month 2023, a time to celebrate, support and raise visibility of the LGBTQIA+ community. So, as a cisgender woman and as part of my own journey to becoming a better ally, I’ve been looking into the importance of gender identity and what it means to me.

What can I do to break unconscious biases about gender identity?

To encourage a shift in prejudices, homophobic and transphobic attitudes and behaviour we all need to pave the way for positive change. As a start I’ve been doing some self-reflection so I can personally start challenging those old, out-dated stereotypes that exist within our wider society.

First, I wanted to make sure my understanding of the difference between the terms ‘sex’ and ‘gender’ is right. Whereas sex is biological (male, female or intersex as assigned at birth), gender is something much more fluid that can change over time and covers a vast spectrum of different identities.

It’s important to recognise how, through unconscious bias, we all automatically make assumptions about gender, like how an individual should look or behave. From my experience, these initial assumptions are rarely correct.

If you’re unsure about a person’s gender identity and want to avoid offending them, you could listen to how they refer to themselves and follow their lead. It can be tricky to ask about someone’s pronouns outright, so make sure you gauge if it’s appropriate and always ask authentically and with kindness. Hopefully they’ll feel comfortable to share. Better still, introduce yourself with your own pronouns first – most of the time people will respond with theirs.

As an ally, including my pronouns in my professional work profile (email signature, internal directory page and LinkedIn profile) is a small but important step I’ve taken to show my support and allyship with my LGBTQIA+ colleagues.

Although not a legal requirement, employers like mine recognise the importance of giving people the freedom to display their gender identities as part of their professional profiles.

They’re helping create a safe space where don’t feel marginalised and can truly be themselves. And by sharing my own pronouns, I hope it will encourage others in my organisation and my wider professional network to follow suit!

Small changes can make a big difference

Small changes like this can help pave the way for bigger changes to be made in the Equity, Diversity and Inclusion (ED&I) space.

So, the next time I attend a work event, I’ll be adding my pronouns to my name badge and weaving them into any introductions.

‘Hi, my name’s Melissa. My pronouns are ‘she/her’.

Everyone’s welcome – celebrating LGBT+ History month

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It’s February and we’re celebrating and supporting LGBT+ History month.

Every year the theme changes (for 2022, it’s Politics in Art – ‘The arc is long’) but the aim is the same – recognising milestones in the fight for LGBT+ equality and promoting visibility and acceptance of the queer community, now and in the future.

There are plenty of ways to get involved throughout the month – from British Museum and Tate tours focusing on queer art through the ages, to poetry, cabaret, open mics and film nights. It’s a great opportunity to brush up on your LGBT+ history and culture too and we’ve got some top book recommendations to get you started.

Pride: The story of the LGBTQ equality movement by Matthew Todd – documents the events in the fight for equal rights for the LGBTQ community.

From the Stonewall rights in 1960s New York, through 50 years of activism to ban discrimination and seek acceptance, right up to the challenges that still face queer people today, this book celebrates the activists and movement who have fought for change.

Good as you: From Prejudice to Pride – 30 years of Gay Britain by Paul Flynn – takes the reader on a journey through 30 years of societal and cultural change.

This book includes interviews with key people from the community including Will Young, Russell T Davies and Holly Johnson and shares the unbridled panic and discrimination caused by the AIDS crisis in the eighties, through to the legalisation of gay marriage in 2014.

We can do better than this: 35 Voices on the Future of LGBTQ+ Rights edited by Amelia Abraham – a collection of personal stories from key people in the queer community addressing present day phobias, inequality and violence.

Olly Alexander, Lady Phyll, Beth Ditto and others talk candidly about topics close to their own hearts such as safety, healthcare, gender and education and what we all need to do to move to a more inclusive, safer future.

We’ve included links for these great reads to the UKs oldest LGBT bookshop – Gay’s the Word and you can also find them in all good online and actual bookshops.

Normalising and using gender pronouns correctly

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Article written by BLUP50 talent Charlie Greening.

This June is pride month for the LGBTQIA+ community. During this month it is more important than ever that everyone within that community and ally’s of it show their respect, support and understanding of the difficult issues those in the community face.

I am a pansexual and gender-neutral person myself. I have been in relationships with beautiful people of all genders and sexual preferences. So, I thought I’d give you a little insight as to what is important for the LGBTQIA+ community right now and what you can do to show support. I am going to be covering the topic of gender pronouns. You might read this and already be tensing your muscles in a confused panic, especially if you are a heterosexual cis-gendered person. Not to worry, I understand that there is some doubt around this topic as people commonly fear causing offence or think that it is too complex of a topic to get their head around. I am here to explain to you what it means to be non-binary or gender-neutral, how to be respectful and supportive, and why it is important that you state your preferred pronouns, especially if you are cis-gendered!

WHO ARE WE TALKING ABOUT
Non-binary / gender queer people use gender neutral pronouns. Some people don’t fit into categories of ‘male’ or ‘female’. Some people have a gender that blends elements of being a man, a woman or have a gender that is different than either ‘male’ or ‘female’. Some people don’t identify with any gender and some people’s gender changes over time. Some society’s, like ours in the UK, tend to recognise just two genders. The idea that there is only two genders is sometimes called a ‘gender binary’ because the word binary means ‘having two parts’. Therefore, ‘non-binary’ is a term people use to describe a gender that doesn’t fall into one of these two.

SOME THINGS IMPORTANT TO KNOW
Non-binary is nothing new! Non-binary people are not confused about gender or ‘following a fad’. Non-binary identities have been recognised for a millennia by cultures and societies all around the world. In some cultures, gods have been depicted as genderless or gender-fluid for thousands of years. Not all people undergo medical procedures, but for some it is critical and even life saving! Most transgendered people are not non-binary. These people often identify as either ‘male’ or ‘female’ and want to be treated like any other cis-gendered person, so should be! Being non-binary is not the same as being intersex. Intersex people have different anatomy or genes that don’t fall into typical ‘male’ or ‘female’ biology.

HOW TO BE RESPECTFUL
You don’t have to completely understand in order to be respectful. However, it is important to educate yourself as much as you can. Always use the preferred name a person asks you to use. Try not to make any assumptions about a persons gender, If you are unsure you should ask. Advocate for policies that are inclusive to non-binary or gender-neutral people in public spaces. Something as simple as going to the bathroom can be very difficult for a these people due to fear of being verbally or physically assaulted.

WHY YOU SHOULD STATE YOUR PRONOUNS
You can now add your preferred pronouns to Instagram, and I highly encourage you to do so! Even if you feel as though you don’t really need to. The more people that do, the more we can normalise this behaviour and make the process of sharing and accepting pronouns better for all of us. The University of North Carolina wrote: “Normalising and using correct pronouns leads to acceptance and de-stigmatisation of individuals who ‘deviate’ from traditionally used pronouns or pronouns that do not align with their physical appearance or gender-based name. By stating one’s pronouns the need for explanation is eliminated”. Including pronouns on your social media profiles, in email sign offs and when you introduce yourself to someone is a small step that cis-gender people can – and should – be making.

WHY IS IT SO IMPORTANT
The Trevor Project’s 2020 National Survey on LGBTQIA+ Youth’s Mental Health found that a heart-breaking fifty two per cent of trans and non-binary youth have seriously considered death by suicide. Those who reported having their personal pronouns respected by all or most people in their lives attempted suicide at half the rate of those who didn’t have their pronouns respected. It is evident there is more to be done in normalising pronouns and it is vital that it comes from cis-gendered people! This is because cis-gendered people have a privilege that allows the opportunity to work to normalise without the risks that trans, non-binary and gender-neutral people face. It is essential that they use this privilege to cultivate an environment where trans and non-binary people don’t feel alienated!

Article written by BLUP50 talent Charlie Greening (She / They) (@chazzabel)

Conversion therapy – when will it end?

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conversion therapy
/kənˈvəːʃ(ə)n/ /ˈθɛrəpi/

  1. the practice of trying to change a person’s sexual orientation or gender identity

You’d be forgiven for thinking anything labelled as ‘therapy’ is a positive experience resulting in long-term benefits to your mental and physical wellbeing. But when that therapy involves trying to persuade a person to live as something they’re not, there’s really nothing therapeutic, medically endorsed, beneficial or healing about it. It is, in fact, the antithesis of all these things, often causing serious mental and physical harm to those who undergo it.

What does conversion therapy involve?
Sometimes also called ‘gay cure therapy’, the practice can involve talking therapies, prayer, physical harm, exorcism, being deprived of food and ‘corrective’ rape (mercifully already illegal). Essentially, it means trying to stop a person from being lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgender, persuade them to suppress their sexuality or change their mind about living as a different gender to the one they were assigned at birth.

NHS England and other organisations have made their stance clear on these ‘unethical and potentially harmful’ therapies and with mounting pressure on the government to address the issue, some small steps in the right direction have been made this year.

Sounds horrendous, so when will it be banned?
Back in 2018, Penny Mordaunt (Minister for Women and Equalities) published her LGBT Action Plan 2018: Improving the lives of Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender people under Theresa May’s government. Along with taking more action on hate crime and appointing a LGBT health adviser the promise was to ‘bring forward proposals to end the practice of conversion therapy in the UK’.

Fast forward to summer 2020 and Boris Johnson also promised to progress plans banning conversion therapy. Adamant the practice is “absolutely abhorrent and has no place in a civilised society, and has no place in this country”, he went on to say the government would conduct a study to find out how, where and how frequently it’s happening before implementing legislative change to outlaw it.

Skip forward again to the Queen’s speech in May this year and yet another public pledge to progress a ban… but the law still won’t be changed until a public consultation goes ahead first.

How long will the consultation take before real change is made?
Well, looking at the pattern of delay over the past few years, it might be easier to ask how long the proverbial piece of string is… On a more positive note though, the very fact that government has conversion therapy on their agenda and has pledged to eradicate it is progress and for now, gives the LGBTQ+ community a glimmer of hope.

What can you do?
There’s lot more information out there so take some time to read up – Stonewall and Gay Times always cover issues impacting the queer community. You can also add your voice to the calls for a complete ban by petitioning your local MP – head to the Ban Conversion Therapy website and use the search function to get started.

Why pride isn’t just for Pride month

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I remember camping with my family when I was about eleven or twelve, waking up one morning in our tent, and admitting to myself that I was gay. Blood rushed to my head, and in a mortified panic, I promised myself that I would never tell anyone this secret for the rest of my life.

At twenty-two, pride feels like a second birthday, and my queerness feels like a gift. I have nurtured, fought for and protected this gift more than anything else I have ever received in my life.

I’ve heard people say that you shouldn’t let one part of your identity consume your whole existence. However, it’s hard to ignore the one facet of your life that other people solely define you by, whether you like it or not.

I’ve been told I was too gay in school and that I talked too much about being gay at university. In embracing my queerness, I still find I’m having to justify, dilute or amplify this part of my identity to please others. It’s hard to digest that the same people telling you that you’re too gay or not gay enough are the ones at pride parades drinking Malibu and coke, taking pictures with their friends and having a good time.

The reality is, being queer has become my whole life – and not just for one month or one parade a year.

Queer people stand in the face of adversity daily. Being queer transcends clothing. It’s in the way we talk, hold ourselves and communicate. So let’s get one thing straight (excuse the pun) – regardless of our clothing, haircuts and outward expression, queer people are still being marginalised and discriminated against.

Many of the queer people I know, including myself, moved to London in hopes of finding themselves at the epicentre of creativity, acceptance and opportunity. Whilst London doesn’t fall short of its promises, homophobia, transphobia and racism run rampant in North, East, South and West.

Many turn a blind eye to day to day stories of hate crime, because we’ve fought for and been awarded our rights, right?

Time and time again this mentality is disrupted by major horror stories making the news, bringing back into sharp focus the reality that many queer folk face. In October, the BBC reported a 20% increase in homophobic hate crimes during the year and even more alarmingly that reports had tripled in five years. And, while it’s true homophobic attacks have been woefully underreported in the past, it doesn’t account for the magnitude in increases.

Tragically, it doesn’t always make the news either. We’re still marching for our BAME trans brothers and sisters in central London because they’re losing their lives and it remains unreported by any major news outlets.

On the surface, your queer/BAME friends may seem fine, but each has probably experienced some form of discrimination within the last month.

On the surface, your queer/BAME friends, the drag queens you see performing at Heaven and the trendy gay guy that made you your oat latte in Gail’s may seem fine, but each has probably experienced some form of discrimination, homophobia or racism within the last month.

When I got back to work after the world went into lockdown, I was called a faggot by four young teenagers at my part-time retail job. Not only is this personally humiliating, but it’s also worrying.

The boys were maybe sixteen or seventeen and I’m twenty-two. I naively hoped (and hope) the younger generations would be more socially aware than my own generation, and that their queer peers would be more comfortable than I was growing up. It goes to show that visibility and education are still essential for queer people to be accepted in society, not only in London but across the world.

But should we, the queer community, be the ones doing the educating?

No.

Why should it still be our responsibility in 2021?

That’s what we’d like to say of course, and that’s what we should encourage. The reality is, we’re still our biggest supporters and to see the change we must be the ones to actively make it. And to our allies, we can spot the Malibu and Coke drinking parade-goers from the genuine activists and change-makers. We see and appreciate you.

Pride is a great opportunity to be visible, online and in person. Although every day is an opportunity to be visible, we’re not always comfortable doing so and that’s fine. Everyone has their own individual way of contributing to the community, big or small, and each is valid. Ultimately, we all have a responsibility to make our voices louder and to defend EVERYONE in our community. Report instances of homophobia, share stories with your work colleagues and friends, let people know it’s not all rainbows and RuPaul’s drag race.

Pride isn’t just for pride month, pride is every day for us.

I just want to go to Soho on a Monday morning

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Before Miss Coronavirus embarked on an extensive world tour that would give even Cher a run for her money, my absolute favourite pastime was going to Soho on a Monday morning.

I’ve said this a few times by now to different people, and each time I’m met with a ‘Why Monday? Monday’s are the worst’ kind of look. Well, Mondays are actually the best.

If you get on the 14 bus around 10am, it’ll take you straight into Piccadilly once the morning commute has passed its peak. You can then slink off the bus and immediately get lost in the tiny side streets between China Town, Piccadilly and Soho. If you go in spring, the mornings are dewy, fresh and bright meaning it’s the perfect weather to sit in Golden Square and have an Oat cappuccino from the Veggie Pret on the corner dahhling.

I used to stop in at Fiorucci, browsing completely uninterrupted which made me feel like a celebrity, especially when the staff learned my name. If I wasn’t doing that, I’d peruse Good News Soho and buy one of their outrageous fashion and music magazines, or thumb through the records at Sister Ray and Reckless Records on Berwick Street.

The reason I’m telling you this is because it makes my soul so unbelievably happy.

I moved to London in the hopes of finding somewhere like Soho where I’d feel connected to the queer community. Historically, London has always embodied the queer spirit – from accommodating the Gateways Club (the world’s longest running lesbian nightclub -1936 to 1985) to the Blitz Kids in Covent Garden co-hosted by Steve Strange and Rusty Egan from 1979/80, and a whole lot more. London feels like the queer homecoming I’d always dreamed of. For me, a queer kid who grew up in the countryside, the capital represented the soul of gay liberation, and I wasn’t wrong by any stretch, but I was definitely wearing my rose-tinted glasses.

I’m still haunted by my first threatening homophobic encounter in London. In my experience, in the countryside it never got to a place of violence. You’d be called various names, bullied, maybe shoved, but it never got to a place where you’d be scared for your life. That doesn’t mean to say it can’t happen – hateful acts of ignorance can happen anywhere.

That very first time, I was thankfully with one of my best friends Sue, a trans girl from Derby, and another cis girlfriend whom we’d met at uni. I won’t go into details about the event, but we quickly found ourselves in a highly threatening situation in a very public space outnumbered by a group of guys. I’ve turned this over and over in my head for the three years since it happened, and two things stay firmly planted in my mind.

Number one – although it was probably mine and Sue’s obvious flamboyance that caught the lads attention, our girlfriend who had been with us was equally ‘in trouble.’ It made me realise that if these ignorant homophobes had no respect for queers, they most certainly didn’t have any respect for women either. In that moment I saw firsthand the solidarity between women and queer folk – shared experiences of belittling and terror that both parties have, out of necessity, become accustomed to. I am so grateful for the woman in my life, they have given me strength, inspiration and motivation to be the person I am today. Many women share our queer spirit and for that they are forever a part of our community.

Number two – as I previously mentioned, this was a VERY public place. Not one person who witnessed our encounter with the boys bat an eye. Not one of the many adults in the vicinity came to help or defend three 18 year olds in immediate danger. We were kids back then. It still makes me exhale heavily – I was so disappointed and disillusioned. Those rose-tinted glasses cracked that day.

I realise now these experiences have placed a hot pink fire in my soul which has ultimately made me embrace my queerness and non-binary identity louder and prouder than ever. The queer spirit is made of hardy stuff. It’s not to be underestimated.

As an ally what can you do?

First of all, to address the big rainbow elephant issue in this post. You don’t have to be superman and fly in and save the day when you see queer folk in danger. You could end up putting yourself and others in danger too. However, you have a responsibility as an ally to alert the authorities or step in if the situation can be managed without police enforcement. We still need support.

On a lighter note.

When the lockdown on our lives has finally been lifted, go to Soho on a Monday morning and soak up the queer energy the place has to offer. Go a few streets down and visit the plaque on Heddon Street where Bowie shot the cover for his infamous 1972 Ziggy Stardust album. Or travel a little further towards Warren Street and visit Gay’s The Word, an original LGBTQIA+ bookshop which has been standing strong in all its pride since 1979. Not to sound like an overplayed airlines advert, but you should really experience queer culture first hand, there’s nothing quite like it.

 

 

Becoming a better ally – I’m still learning too

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My son told me he was gay on the platform of Fulham Broadway while we were waiting for a tube into Central London.

There wasn’t any big lead up to his coming out. I wasn’t expecting it right there and then but I’d been anticipating the conversation for most of his life.

I often think back to that moment and remember the gentle sway of conversation – our usual back and forth, laughing, comfortable – probably a bit banal. In retrospect I wonder if that’s why he choose that exact point – because we were entirely at ease and maybe he thought things would never be quite the same again.

For me though, his quiet admission didn’t disrupt anything at all. It settled that final piece of my knowledge of him with a small, satisfying click. I was surprised to hear him ask me if it would change anything between us . . . “How could it?” I said – “I love you – I’ve always known.”

Showing up

I’m painfully aware this isn’t every queer person’s experience of coming out to their family. And it certainly wasn’t without challenge, prejudice and homophobia from the males in our own family. But like the ally I’d learned to be over the course of his childhood, I stood up, stepped in and spoke out.

Being an ally can be in equal parts easy and difficult. Throw into the mix being a parent too and you can imagine the confrontational situations you suddenly find yourself in. Staring unflinchingly into the eyes of complete strangers who openly laugh at your child. Questioning what right those groups of adolescents have to threaten and insult him. Challenging your close friends and family members to address their unconscious bias and re-educate themselves.

It’s not about you

The complicated conversations with people you’d just assumed would be gay ok are difficult, let alone living with a constant undercurrent of homophobic violence, and fear for your queer people’s safety. I’ve had to learn to live with both and they cause me a great deal of anxiety. Of course it’s nothing compared to what LGBTQIA+ people are exposed to and have to navigate every day.

Being a true ally isn’t easy when you’re afraid. I once made the mistake of asking my son to consider wearing a hat to cover up his bright pink buzzcut, and swap his skirt and platforms for something that would attract less attention on his commute through London. He refused of course, explaining to me that his queerness was in the way he walked, talked and everything about him, transcending more than just his outward appearance. I’ve never asked him to change himself to suit other people since.

Start with love

The easy part has always been from a personal perspective – understanding and developing my own relationship with the queer folk in my life. Whether that’s been celebrating with friends as they committed to each other in a civil partnership before gay marriage was even legalised, or providing a safe haven so my kids could grow into their best authentic selves (read: supporting my son’s choice to wear cherry-red Mary Janes at nursery and painting his toenails sparkling silver every summer, although I do reserve the right to stop him talking about Mariah Carey on every. Single. Facetime call . . .)

First steps

This is what I’ve learned on my own personal journey to becoming a better ally. Of course, I can’t speak for everyone and I’m definitely still learning!

Accept and support – unconditionally. Acceptance starts at home and the little things on a daily basis will make all the difference to your queer family – be mindful of your language, be inclusive and non-judgemental.

Defend and protect – while I don’t advocate putting yourself in danger, defending your queer folk against homophobic insult and attack is vital – they need to know you’re on their side!

Question and challenge – try to become aware of unconscious bias and challenge it. No-one wants a belligerent person making accusatory comments so make sure you know what you’re talking about and always educate with kindness.

Educate yourself – if you don’t know the right terms for things or the pronouns your queer folk have chosen – ask! If your questions come from a place of respect and love they won’t mind you asking.

Bear in mind just because you know one queer person, doesn’t necessarily mean you have an understanding of the whole community. Listen to podcasts, familiarise yourself with important gay history such as Stonewall and the Gay Liberation Front and keep up to date with current news concerning LGBTQIA+ issues like the Black Trans Lives Matter protests as part of the Black Lives Matter movement.

And finally…

Support where you can

Read more and get involved

These are some of my current favourites

Listen and watch

“Category is: Body ody ody”

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Close your eyes and imagine this: I’m sitting in the Chelsea branch of Gail’s on a crisp winter morning writing this blog post on my MacBook. I have a skinny oat latte and a banana, because although the pastries look delicious, they’re not gluten free and I bloat at even the sight of wheat. I’m wearing a skinny jersey turtleneck and my Fiorucci Tara jeans cinched in at my tiny waist to emphasise just how much weight I’ve lost.

Girl. As if.

In reality, I’m crunched up on my bed looking down past my triple chin at my six year old HP laptop that took 30 minutes to turn on. I’ve eaten half a packet of biscuits with my morning ‘value’ filter coffee, and I’m in my pants and my favourite Oxfam bargain cardigan.

And just for the record, EVEN in my fantasy, I couldn’t resist a Gail’s pastry. They’re just too good.

We all have a fantasy, but they’re fickle, often equal parts aspirational and destructive. We need to manage our expectations.

Something I find so deeply problematic in the LGBTQIA+ community is the persistent need to categorise, label and define, particularly when it comes to our bodies. For a community that’s ‘all accepting,’ we can be anything but. Some of our queer specific dating apps are designed to make us ultimately isolate one another. They promote internalised homophobia, transphobia, racism and body shaming. I’ve come across profiles that say ‘No Fats, No Femmes, No Blacks and No Asians.’ It’s disgusting, do we really hate ourselves that much?

The ‘Tribes’ that these apps promote facilitate and spawn further notions of self-loathing. Twinks, Jocks, Bears, Otters, Femmes… to name a few, are categories that define aspects of our physicality. For example, if you’re a twink, you’re typically skinny, blonde and shaved head to toe. If you’re a bear, you’re muscular, brunette and hairy head to toe. I could go on.

For me as a non-binary (he/his/they/them) individual I often feel that I don’t fit into any category, and quite frankly I don’t want to. In saying this, you sometimes can’t help but let the small minded people that operate within these suffocating tribes get the best of you.

There have been times where I’ve tried to ‘masc it up’ to try and hide my natural flamboyance and femininity. I tried to grow out my facial hair in an effort to fit in with the Bears and Otters. I’ve dressed subtle on first dates to appear less… gay? It doesn’t make sense and only leads to dizzying feelings of dysphoria.

Feeling dysphoric about our bodies is not breaking news by any stretch, and it doesn’t just apply to the LGBTQIA+ community. There are often many similarities in the way that queer men and cis women view their bodies for example. However, although us gays, girlies and our bodies are important, there needs to be more love, attention and support for trans bodies.

For decades now, trans folk and their bodies have been misunderstood, ridiculed and alienated. In 2020 and 2021 this is a bigger issue than ever.

Last year The Trevor Project, a non-profit organisation who specialise in suicide prevention among the LGBTQIA+ community, reported that 60% of young trans and non-binary individuals engage in self harm, and 40% of those surveyed seriously contemplated ending their own lives. Imagine then throughout history, how many undocumented transgender and gender non-conforming people we’ve lost. It’s harrowing.

In 2021 as the pandemic continues, this may prove harder than usual for trans youth as many will be isolated from their community, safe places and support systems. Home isn’t always a safe place either when there is still so much misinformation and misunderstanding surrounding transgender bodies.

As an ally, what can you do to help?

Do your research. Educate yourself. Donate.

Listen to podcasts like ‘NB: My Non-Binary Life’ by the BBC. Check out the Mermaids UK organization for their amazing charity work for trans and non-binary youth. Google Munroe Bergdorf and read about her story.

Check yourself too. The thing I hate hearing THE MOST when people are referring to my trans brothers and sisters is: ‘Oh, they’re a man but really they’re a woman’ and vice versa. Or ‘I would’ve never thought they were a guy before! They’re so feminine.’ This kind of attitude towards the trans community is super disruptive and leads to more feelings of dysphoria. Treat trans people with respect. I can’t speak for the entirety of the trans community, but they don’t need your validation on whether or not they’re ‘passing.’

If you’re unsure how a trans or non-binary person identifies, you can politely ask them, just make sure it’s in a private and non-threatening tone and environment. In addition, if you accidentally use the wrong pronouns (yes, especially if it’s in a group setting) immediately correct yourself and correct others too.

Yours sincerely, a non-binary badass.

“And if you can’t love yourself, how in the hell are you going to love somebody else. Can I get an Amen up in here?”

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In the first of three blogs highlighting LGBT+ history month guest blogger Keane Spenlé focuses on the queer mind.

Keane is a songwriter, musician and activist who performs under the pseudonym Søren – his/their queerness is at the centre of everything they do.

The gays: gurus of being fabulous, the gatekeepers of self-acceptance and definitely your only friend worth asking whether or not those Zara slingback heels would be too promiscuous for your date with Mark from IT on Thursday evening.

We’re often seen as a shoulder to cry on, the person you vent to, or the pal you drag along to the shops for some serious retail therapy.

Hunny. Although I’d really love to be your Damien from Mean Girls, or your super attractive but in a late 80‘s George Michael kind of way, best friend, I’m exhausted.

Thanks to RuPaul, the community slogan has become the glorified “If you can’t love yourself…” mantra. Once a very important reminder, it now serves as a global invitation that the LGBTQIA+ community has got it together, and have an endless capacity to deal with your self-loathing and insecurities as well as our own.

I’m joking of course, but truly, this self-love thing takes time. Historically, it has taken time and many people and institutions have made a point of disrupting this journey in order to push us further towards the outside.

As Mariah Carey might say ‘not to be bleak darling’ but every letter of our community acronym is being discriminated against daily. Someone that might be taking two steps forward may be tormented into taking another ten back. Our learning to love ourselves is pretty extreme as it goes.

For me, it took 16 years to admit to myself that I was bisexual, another two years to admit that I was gay, and a further three years to be comfortable as non-binary. Just to be clear, this is not everyone’s journey, and these labels aren’t gateways to and from one another, it’s personal.

My point is, we’re already conditioned to think that representing any letter of LGBTQIA+ is wrong, it takes years of rewiring your mind to make it make sense. For some of our predecessors it never did make sense. They didn’t have the luxury of assessing their mental health and watching queer positive tv shows, musicians and powerful figures talking about their own queer experience.

I think of cultural icons like Little Richard, a queer black man, who had to sanitise his image, lyrics and performances in order to garner any measure of success or recognition. Over his lifetime he would ‘come out’ and then retreat back into ‘The Closet’ in fear of the constant discrimination that followed him from the 1950’s up until last year when he passed away. For someone so deeply troubled he inspired so many, from Bowie through to Freddie and later Lady Gaga. It goes to show that even ‘cultural icons’ are not exempt from the harsh realities that queer people are accustomed to.

The notion that we, the queer community, all love ourselves unconditionally is a beautiful rainbow fantasy I’d love to believe in, but the same goes for all of humanity.

Some days I wake up, throw on my Juicy Couture, snakeskin trench coat and my signature £7 lipgloss and feel content with who I have become. I have the mental strength to face the world and it’s adversity with a strong strut and an award winning lip sync (under my mask of course) to ‘Toxic’ by Miss Britney Spears. Other days I wake up with a strong sense of dread and a bubbling anxious energy underneath the surface of my skin that I can’t seem to brush off as hard as I try. Loving yourself isn’t a badge you earn and get to keep forever, it’s a constant effort to uphold and maintain, and that’s tough but worth the struggle.

I had the thought only the other day, as I was strutting along in all my non-binary finery, that if I were in America during the late sixties prior to the Stonewall Riots, I would have been arrested for wearing practically anything I own in my closet right now. It reminded me of our privilege as queer people today and that although at times it’s difficult, we’ve made and continue to make progress. Furthermore, we’re lucky.

As an ally, what can you do to help?

We learnt last year that educating yourself is more important than ever, it is not the duty of ANY minority group to educate YOU on their community. If you’re reading this blog post you’re already well on your way, and so for that I say thank you, well done and can confirm you’re super chic and gay ok. Checking in on your friends and their mental health is paramount, particularly during the pandemic. I’d just ask you to spare a thought for your queer friends too – homophobia, transphobia and wider ignorance doesn’t disappear just because we’re in a pandemic, or in a Patricia as I now like to call it.

For more information on LGBT+ History Month visit their website: https://lgbtplushistorymonth.co.uk/