RAE’S REFLECTIONS

By Rachel Badham

The exhaustion of misogyny by one very tired queer.

Since the coronavirus pandemic began last year, I’ve found that getting outdoors and moving has been the greatest remedy for the isolation and boredom that many began experiencing as our normal routines were put on hold. Although I sometimes found it difficult to motivate myself to get active, the mental and physical rewards were always worth the struggle I faced to just put on my trainers and head out the door.

However, recently I’ve become more aware of what is, for me, the only downside of regular outdoor exercise: exposure to cat-calling and snide, sexist comments that simultaneously make my blood boil while filling me with intense, heart-stopping anxiety This isn’t to say that cat-calling is a new phenomenon, but I’ve found myself experiencing an increasing amount of harassment recently, making me part of the estimated 97% of all self-identifying women, AFAB, and non-binary people who have been sexually harassed.

And it isn’t just sexual comments; the casual misogyny of being asked to ‘give us a smile, love’ is just as belittling sometimes, with any clapbacks usually being met by further derogatory comments as the man asking me to crack a smile on his behalf realises that I do indeed “have my bitch pants on”. For me, finding a home within the LGBTQ+ community gave me huge relief from my anger at the inequalities that are entrenched in our daily lives, as I met so many like-minded people who have shared my experiences.

But unfortunately, misogyny is still rife within the LGBTQ+ community, with LGBTQ+ women/ non-binary/AFAB folks often experiencing a unique kind of sexism that undermines our entire identity. As a pansexual person, I’m all

too aware of the erasure that bi+ people face at the hands of the deep-rooted misogyny that has made its way into regular discourse. After being asked by a young man at my previous customer service job if being queer meant that I’d be “down for a threesome”, I realised that even once I had learned to feel joy in my identity despite contending with heteronormative expectations, my sexuality was still dismissed as a pedestal for male pleasure.

When examining how sexism has infiltrated the LGBTQ+ community itself, one of the most recent examples is the widespread criticism that Victoria Scone – the first cis woman to participate in Drag Race and self-proclaimed ‘celesbian’ – has faced since the announcement that she would be appearing on the show. And this didn’t just begin recently; drag performers who do not identify as cis men have long been subjected to misogyny, erasure and even abuse.

While drag offers a mode of alternative gender expression and subversion that is quite possibly the pinnacle of Judith Butler’s theories of gender performativity, those already oppressed by patriarchal systems are often denied the opportunity to participate, even when it comes to performing as the gender that they identify with. Much of the harsh judgment that Victoria has faced has even come from the LGBTQ+ community – most notably white, cisgender men.

Many mainstream attempts to address issues of sexism, particularly within the LGBTQ+ community, have been misguided to say the least, and often make a statement at the expense of another marginalised group. Take Cara Delevingne’s recent MET Gala outfit – the pansexual model wore a white ensemble with Peg the Patriachy printed across it, in what we can assume was meant to be a powerful protest against the systematic oppression of women and other marginalised genders.

However, the phrase Peg the Patriachy was actually coined and trademarked by queer sex educator of colour Luna Matatas, who was not informed that Delevingne would be wearing the slogan on her MET outfit. Some also accused Delevingne of weaponising homophobic sentiments in her political statement, with Matatas confirming that the original statement was “about subversion, not about an anal sex act and not about men”. While I certainly think that Delevingne has helped to shine a light on inequality and LGBTQ+ issues throughout her career, this event was a clear example of the white feminist privilege that certainly does not exclude queer people.

Moreover, moves such as Delevingne’s are often performed in a binary way that actually reinforces sexist structures, as Delevingne’s misinterpretation of the phrase draws polarising distinctions between men and women while hinting at the power play between dominance and submission. What could have been a show-stopping and empowering statement just completely missed the mark, adding to the general disappointment I have been feeling recently as the force of misogyny and gender inequality seems to be constantly rearing its head everywhere.

“As a pansexual person, I’m all too aware of the erasure that bi+ people face at the hands of the deep-rooted misogyny that has made its way into regular discourse”

I don’t quite know what the answer is, but tackling the extensive misogyny that continues to perpetuate pretty much every aspect of society often begins with simple conversations between one another about what we can do to be better allies to those affected by misogyny. Whether it’s standing up to harassment when we notice it, or educating ourselves about how misogyny affects people of all backgrounds, races and gender identities in varying ways, there are plenty of small things that can collectively make a difference.

Even when daily exposure to misogyny gets exhausting, I’m grateful that I’ve grown up around a bunch of badass feminists, such as both my parents and my unashamedly outspoken gran, who have been incredible role models when it comes to both acknowledging and standing against oppression of marginalised people. But the truth is; many people aren’t as fortunate as I am, and while the misogyny I’ve found myself facing is real, it runs a lot deeper than the casually sexist remarks that I hear multiple times a week. For all the progress made, we can’t stop addressing misogyny until everyone can walk home safely, without fear of harassment or violence.

Sources: Research finds that 97% of women in the UK have been sexually harassed – Open Access Government, March 11, 2021.

Luna Matatas Wore 'Peg The Patriarchy' Long Before Cara Delevingne – Tracy Clark-Flory for Jezebel, September 15, 2021.