Late Bloomer: Subtle Homophobia!
When You're Different You're Reminded Every Day
This is Late Bloomer, an essay series about coming out later in life. This is not an academic dissection. This is a farmer talking about how long it took me to catch up, and what that experience has taught me. I hope writing this series helps build allyship and understanding and saves some of you the time I lost.
Last post in this series I talked about coming out later in life, and how different that experience is compared to a teen or young adult’s. This post is about how coming out later than most is met with a specific homophobia many kind people do not even realize they are participating in. I am hoping this essay helps prepare closeted women and guide allies towards a more compassionate mindset.
Disclaimer: I am not an expert in sexuality or psychology. I am a memoirist sharing experiences and opinions. Do not read or listen to this post if sexuality is challenging for you to think about or question at this time.
I also want to add that this essay isn’t about violent bigotry or religion-based/aggressive homophobia. It’s 2024 and if you didn’t grow up in the Deep South or on on a compound with 23 first cousins, most late-blooming queers aren’t worried about scolding parents or being kicked out of their homes. They are worried about hurting the nice guy they married or breaking up their household/financial stability. Concerns aren’t so much about safety and judgement as acceptance and possibilities. The kind of homophobia that threatens your safety or housing is a serious topic for another day. If this is something you want me to research and write about for this series, please let me know.
New to this series? Here are the archives so far:
Part 1: Lesbian Coyotes Mugged Me at a Waterfall (When I realized I was gay)
Part 2: Why Women Take So Long To Realize They’re Queer (Comphet is hell)
Part 3: Fear of Change & Moving Past It (Being brave for yourself & others)
Part 4: Body Issues (Getting over ourselves so we can be happy)
Part 5: Building Community (How to make queer friends)
Part 6: Coming Out (The work of changing identity in adulthood)
No Clue
I have no idea what it feels like to meet a lesbian as a straight woman. Which is a weird thing to acknowledge at 42—because, even when I thought I was straight—I was still a lesbian. I had the same emotional and physical reactions to women I’ve always had, but I can remember feeling so rock-solid in my heterosexuality that my desire to impress every lesbian I met was because I was so open-minded and friendly. My benevolence for diversity in the year of our lord: 1998, what a gal.
Like I was saying, I don’t know what straight women think or feel when they meet a lesbian because whenever I came across one in the wild all I wanted was for them to notice me. I wanted them to notice me the same way I wanted those hikers on the top of that waterfall to notice me. It had nothing to do with attraction or sex. It was safety. Lesbians were the only people I could truly relax my shoulders and unclench my jaw around. I wish I paid attention to myself better when I was younger instead of trying to convince others I deserved attention at all.
I didn’t realize how starved I was for community. You never do until you find it. When I discovered other women that understood how it felt growing up queer (before we even knew we were!) it was a flood of validated communion. How much it explained! How we finally belonged! How our lives finally started making sense!
But coming out also invites the baggage of a generally-homophobic culture. As much as people think the world’s gone woke, that perception doesn’t equate to actual acceptance. Just because you see rainbow t-shirts for kids at Target in Ohio doesn’t mean 8-year-old Billy in North Dakota isn’t being beat up after school because of his lisp and disinterest in sports. Reminders we exist aren’t markers of tolerance. They’re corporations marketing to a new client base.
Queer people are reminded every day that we are different. It’s rarely loud. It’s rarely even intentional. But it constantly happens. And this essay will be directed at both newly out queer women experiencing diet bigotry for the first time, and to the straight people that may not realize they’re doing it.
Coming out is one of three things: a curse, a blessing, or a drug. Sometimes all three. But today we’re talking about one of the curses - and that’s the subtle homophobia that creeps into your everyday life. It happens in conversations with coworkers and in the doctor’s waiting room. It happens walking down the street or in your pastor’s office. The ignorance and vitriol disguised as concern. The raised eyebrows. The hint of discomfort. It’s everyday, but the good news is it stops bothering you the more confident and happy you are.
The point of today’s essay isn’t to scold straight people, police language, or warn closeted lesbians. The point is that words matter. How we talk to people matters. And I am not here to show you how you should change. I’m telling you what it feels like when you don’t.
Being Different Makes You Different
It really is that simple.
Realizing you are queer later in life comes with some truly uncomfortable moments, and not all of them belong in a rom com. If you’ve been passing as straight for a couple decades, you can expect some unmooring conversations as people find out about your true identity. You may even get pushback from folks uncomfortable with the “new” you.
This isn’t to say their discomfort equates homophobia. There are plenty of open-minded and progressive straight friends and family members who are confused when someone drops a bomb into their perception of reality. It’s not even about your sexuality, it’s about your acceptance of change and embracing it. Nothing rattles people more than that quiet threat. If you can realize something inside you that upends your entire life, it makes people take pause. What if it could happen to me? What am I ignoring deep inside? What have I grown used to and not content with?
For some people, the more comfortable they get with their everyday life, the more threatened they are when it changes. Even when things change that have nothing to do with their life at all, like you bringing a woman to Thanksgiving instead of a man.
And while I would never accuse most people of being malicious or ill-intentioned, the knee-jerk reaction to coming out from some of the people closest to you will probably be homophobic. Prepare for it.
I wasn’t prepared.
It’s Only a Phase (& Other War Crimes)
The first example of homophobia you’re going to come across happens soon as you come out. Like, during the first conversation. This is rarely meant to hurt feelings, but instead lighten the mood or bring some sense of relief to the person hearing the news.
Remember, you’ve been dealing with your queerness for a long time; the person hearing it from you probably hasn’t. Even if you’re the spitting image of Lea Delaria and childless in your late thirties—you actually admitting you’re gay comes with sticker shock. A lot of Americans didn’t get the memo that Don’t Ask Don’t Tell is over. And some actually think ignoring your identity is being polite. The queer version of “I don’t see color!” when talking about other races.
I can’t stress enough that you shouldn’t take these reactions personally. I know that is impossible advice to follow when you’re telling the people you love and trust the most, but they’re probably not even reacting to your sexuality. They’re reacting to change.
They might laugh and ask if you’re joking. They may blurt out something insane like “So do you think I’m hot?!” because they’re uncomfortable. They may say something else like “Oh, I already could tell…” or “That explains the pickup basketball team!” and honestly, they are treading water. And the least they suspect you’re not like them, the more wild the response will be. Brace for it.
Then there are the flat out deniers. The worst offenders dismiss you without a thought. You can literally make a powerpoint explaining every bullet point in the Master Doc and it will still fall on deaf ears. You’ll hear “Of course you don’t enjoy sex with your husband?! Who does after the honeymoon?!” or “You’re not trying hard enough”, or “you’re bored”, or he wasn’t “the one,” or (the worst) “It’s only a phase”. And they suggest all of these invalidating responses because you’re doing something terrifying; changing your life in a way that disrupts their idea of who you are.
Coming out is a lot like going through a divorce. When you break the news, the people you tell often don’t react with how they feel about your marriage. They react with how they feel about Marriage™.
Be mindful that for a lot of people, marriage is incredibly arduous and complicated. They’ve been taught it’s supposed to be, and every day is a choice to choose happiness instead of actually experiencing it and protecting it. So when you say you’re done fighting a losing battle, it forces people to consider their own. And that’s what will be reflected back to you.
If the person you tell is in a healthy and happy place in their life, you’ll probably get a warm hug and some words of support. If their own relationship is like walking across cracking ice, you’re going to be asked the same questions they ask themselves at 3AM.
When you come out as a grown-ass woman (especially if you’ve only dated men in the past) that’s the mentality you’re going to come across the most. It’s rare you’re met with slurs or flat-out denial. But it’s far too common to hear “are you sure?” and “This is only temporary” or “You can’t be gay, I was a bridesmaid at you and Steve’s wedding in Bermuda?! I’m still paying off the flight on my Visa?!”
My best advice: These people love you, they need a little time. Try not to feel too defensive or argumentative. You aren’t on trial, but their concept of you is. And know everything they say to convince you otherwise probably has a lot less to do with you than it does with them.
Doctors to Neighbors
I asked on Instagram for queer women to share random everyday examples of homophobia they’ve experienced. The responses were all familiar to me, even if I didn’t realize it was bigotry at the time.
Everything from how your doctor talks to you about birth control to once-friendly acquaintances on your street treating you differently in public, is something I have lived through as well. If you’re capable of any level of situational awareness, you’re going to notice a shift in the air.
Sidenote:
When you first come out (especially if you’ve been repressing it most of your life) you’ll still have so much residual internalized homophobia, you may not even realize how unkind people are being, intentionally or not. I had a close relative request I return furniture gifted to me because she wanted it to “stay in the family”It took years to realize how fucked up that was. And worse, how I tolerated it.
Here’s what some people sent me:
Being straight is so common that most people (including professionals like doctors and teachers) just assume you are. They will assume regardless of how you present or how clearly gay you are. And that isn’t because they are stupid. It’s because it’s everyday protocol. America is still incredibly homophobic. I’m telling you, there are still people in my everyday life I could ask if they were queer at a dinner party and that would be seen as scandalous. What an awful thing to insinuate! How dare you?!
That kind of mentality still exists today, even among teenagers. To a lot of people being assumed queer is an insult or a reason to get defensive. So even women like me get asked about my boyfriend/husband if I say “my ex” in a conversation. I’m literally wearing a felt hat with feathers and fishing lures stuck in it at this IGA, Mellissa.. Assume away.
I want to make it clear that a lot of this everyday homophobia isn’t malicious. Most people making cringe alphabet jokes think they’re so accepting they’re in on the joke with you, not making you the butt of it.
Folks, you can’t make someone watch Ted Lasso that doesn’t want to watch Ted Lasso. People only truly respect other people’s happiness when they feel they also deserve respect and happiness. And a lot of people don’t feel they deserve anything. So seeing you boldly change your identity doesn’t bring them joy, it points to their lack of it. So here comes the gay jokes and nudging of ribs. Here comes the mockery disguised as camaraderie. Here comes the doubt and rolled eyes from co-workers that think you’re going to start mandatory Pride events at the office and grandparents that still hope you “…meet a nice boy someday.”
And yes, your physician will be taken aback if you’re a sexually active woman and not using protection outside of regular STI testing. They’ll figure it out if they glance down at your chart or stop to think for a second about why unintentional pregnancy isn’t your concern.
Feel free to remind them (like how I have to remind people that hawks can’t give me rabies) of basic natural science. Not all women are straight. Not all wildlife are mammals. Some folks need the reminder.
Advice For Straight Readers
I am not telling you how to speak. I am sharing how some outdated phrases and concepts are received by queer women (compared to other straight women). You may think nothing of it, but things you say casually without a second thought may come off as wildly out of touch. Govern yourselves accordingly.
Lesbian Isn’t a Slur
I use the word lesbian all the time. When I first came out it was hard to call myself that. I had grown up in the 80s and 90s where the word lesbian was only used in the pejorative. It didn’t matter if it was in school, on tv, around the house, or out in the streets of my small town. Lesbians were the butt of the joke anywhere outside queer culture. As if being a woman that didn’t center her life around men was morally questionable or a political statement. “She’s a lesbian” was a blanket accusation the same way some people still say “She’s crazy” to write someone off entirely but never specifically.
She’s one of Them…
And that sticks with people. I remember when I first came out I tried to only use the word “gay” or “queer” to describe myself because I didn’t like the term lesbian for that reason. It was too-women specific, and in our culture, anything too-women-centered is instantly seen as bad, weak, or anti-man to many people.
It’s also seen as bad to other women, even if they can’t put a finger on why. They too hear the man hater and feminazi and cat lady jokes from people in their lives or on Fox News. Or think we all talk like the bookstore skits from Portlandia.
Lesbian is still a word people write off as something they don’t want in society. Lesbians aren’t wholesome! They steal wives from good men! They are indoctrinating children by wearing a GAY engagement ring to their third grade classroom! And some people honestly have no idea what to do with any woman that isn’t speaking to them like she works in a tip-dependent industry. Much less one that wants nothing to do with men or the conservative notion of wholesome.
Lesbian isn’t a slur. It means a woman who exclusively experiences attraction and romance with other women. Say it all the time. Say it like you say the word flower or helicopter. Say it with panache. Say it with authority. Say it like it saved your life.
Certainly say it about me. I have a reputation to uphold.
Queers, D*kes, and F*g Hags
If you’re recently out, or recently diving into sapphic culture, you are going to come across a lot of terms and phrases we use in the community all the time that shouldn’t be used outside it. And some you should.
To some people (mostly people over 60), even the umbrella term of “queer” is still seen as a slur. A school-yard insult from the 1960s and hate speech from the 70s.
If that’s you, please understand that today the word queer is used without baggage or insult by everyone (not just the LGBT the community) to encapsulate anyone that isn’t straight or cis-gendered. Anyone, of any age or sexuality, should be comfortable saying queer to describe another person.
Some readers may balk at this and get defensive. Wondering how they are supposed to know what words to use or say if they aren’t around gay people? Which always shocks me because it’s pretty hard to read a current novel or watch current media without constant examples of homosexuality in everyday normal life? There are endless gay movies, shows, YouTubers, pundits, musicians, actors, writers, newscasters, etc. So either you are saying you’re so isolated from the queer experience you intentionally avoid it? (weird) or feel it’s not “for you” (also weird).
I was raised on straight rom coms and sitcoms alike, and while it never made me want to be straight, it did fill my childhood with straight culture. I was also raised by straight people, had straight siblings, was related to straight people, went to school with straight people... I learned about your ways because the world is full of different kinds of people. So turn on a lesbian rom com or a gay stand up special. Watch a documentary on queer or trans history. Queer history in America is American history, straight up. If your dad can watch an hour special on Vietnam he can watch an hour on Stonewall. And if he won’t, that says way more about him than you.
For another example: Dyke is a common phrase used among the lesbian community. But we’re saying dyke the same way gay men throw around the term f*g, which I won’t even write out because it feels icky to me. I’m not straight, but I’m also not a gay dude. No one ever wrote F*G in spray paint across my locker. No one beat me up for dressing too well and not being into sports. I would never say F*g Hag to describe myself but it’s still something straight women that watch a lot of Drag Race throw around. Be a little less homophobic and more creative, try Fruit Fly! Or, Friend!
When I hear straight people throwing these terms around it’s wildly uncomfortable and sometimes even hurtful. Before I came out, I remember every single time I heard someone use the word dyke to refer to another lesbian. I remember exactly how it felt, what we were doing the second it came out of their mouths, the weather, the clothing, the women they were talking about…
From men it was scary. From women, heartbreaking. How it came out like judgement to tell another “straight” person everything they needed to know about that person to disregard their humanity. How it instantly categorized her as an outsider, a man-hater, or (gasp) a feminist.
Reagan isn’t president anymore, folks. Only use gay slurs if you’re gay. Easy!
Girlfriends & Girl Crushes
Casual phrases straight women say all the time are doing more damage to their queer friends than they realize. Most women have dropped the usage of “girlfriend” outside of committed queer relationships but it’s still as common as a slow crawl through a country stop sign around here.
If you’re a woman I don’t know, talking to me about your girlfriend, I assume that is the person you are romantically involved with. If you name two girlfriends, I assume you’re gay and polyamorous. That is the normal assumption to make about the word girlfriend. What do you mean you call your female friends girlfriends? Are we all meeting after the DAR meeting to discuss cordless phones later?
As a monogamous, married, straight woman, would you ever talk about your male buddy at work by calling them your “boyfriend?” He is a boy and your friend, right? No, of course you wouldn’t! That word implies an intimate relationship and may give people the wrong idea about you and Tucker from accounts! Why does one gender get to call their friends a pet name that people assume is platonic and the other is a scandal?
Something to think about.
Another quietly homophobic phrase is the outdated use of “Girl Crush” as if putting the word “girl” in front of a crush means it’s not real. It’s the straight woman’s version of “no-homo”. Of course you can have a crush on another woman as a straight woman! It happens all the time! Sexuality is rarely black and white. Crushes happen if you’ve got eyes and a pulse.
Having a crush on someone isn’t necessarily indicative of sexuality. Like Trixie Mattel says: even Nordstrom has a 90-day return policy. But needing to put that dismissive phrase “girl” to talk about a crush you have on another woman is over.
You have a crush. It’s a crush.
Let’s Wrap it Up
Homophobia is a part of life you need to get used to in this over-politicized and divisive climate. There are people in your family that may not know a single gay or trans person except the estranged family members or friends that left their hometowns. If that’s the case for you, please try to open your heart and doors to new types of people. We only learn by being brave and asking questions. I hope anyone reading this feels they can ask me questions, or get confusing ideas or false beliefs cleared up.
I don’t expect my small town, extended family, or older relatives to hop on board the Lesbian Express waving flags and kissing kittens and neither should you. But I do hope all these small cuts they make in our truth is easier to see for what it is: fear. It’s theirs to overcome or get poisoned by. And honestly, that’s none of our business. We can only hope they choose love.
Keep being yourself. As you grow in confidence in who you are and what you want, this constant reminder you are different will feel less like a personal attack and more of a reminder how much work we still have to do. A better future is possible if we agree it is, fight for it, vote for it, hope for it.
Hopefully, one day no one will ever have to come out. The notion I used to write love letters to closeted strangers I may never meet will be quaint and sad. But today we have work to do, minds to change, and hearts to open. So be yourself without apology. Be the example queer kids need to see. And when you are ready, put a homophobe in their place with loving confidence.
Then write to me and tell me how you did it. I’m still taking notes.
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Cold Antler Farm, the substack & the farm, is entirely supported by readers without any other off-farm job, passive income, family or spousal support, savings, credit, inheritance, or a trust fund. It’s you, me, and making enough to stay housed and safe every month. I am trying to earn a dependable income through this substack. That is the entire point.
Your patronage is why I write. This work takes days of effort and you’re reading or listening to it for free. If any part of you feels this deserves compensation or was useful to you, please consider upgrading your subscription. This isn’t some recreational substack writing musings on a lark. I’m betting the farm on this.
Holy crow, do I hope that was the safe bet.
Excellent essay. Makes one think. Keep it up!!
Off topic: hawks don't get rabies? Or is it birds in general?