an overdue reckoning with this queer body: part 2
or how the possibility of escaping cages + gazes is helping me to heal
I’ve been thinking (and feeling) a lot about beauty lately. It was the theme for this month’s round-up post, and in last week’s post (the part 1 of this post), I explored how imposed standards of beauty and perfectionism thwart some girls from using and appreciating their bodies for their strength and function. Today, I want to talk about how queer culture is blowing beauty standards wide open and how that is a step along my path toward authentic self-expression and freedom.
a note about process over product
I’m in a slow healing process around these ideas, so capturing my thoughts into words you’ll eventually see on your screen feels risky and emergent. I’m going to write anyway because I deeply believe we don’t need to wait until we (or our ideas) are fully-formed in order to express ourselves. Everything in nature is always changing, so we, too, need to be able to have our ideas and our identities evolve… to not be held to what we’ve written on a page or what clothing is on our body or what gender we or our partners are. Ever since writing Midlife Emergence in the midst of the inconvenient (and ultimately verdant) volcano of my forties, I’ve learned that it’s healing (for me and the reader) to write from the curiosity, the honesty, the still-developing, the messy. It’s a counter-cultural act to stand in the face of the “voila! perfect finished product!” way that art (or ourselves!) are encouraged to show up in mainstream, normie culture. As an art therapist, I’ve witnessed the benefit of process over product mentality, so let’s explore together…
the performance of gender
If we’re going to talk about conventional culture having an impact on how we express via our gender (like the influence of cisnormativity on my generation and older generations), then it’s important to acknowledge the way the queer subculture is gaining visibility —thus influence AND backlash— right now. If you need a reminder about these terms, click the link above and you could also read this piece your kid may have read in Teen Vogue last spring.
All my life, I’ve constantly reinvented myself, but never in as many facets all at once as I have upon entering midlife in my forties. In this latest overhaul, I’m learning what it is to live a queer life out loud. I’m reconsidering how I present myself, and wondering if my clothing and hair and make-up are simply a product of habit, a product of the comphet training to attract men. In the late 80s, Judith Butler began talking about this idea of gender being a performance. (You can read about that here.) In GenX (and earlier), we were given two gender options, two different sets of costumes and props and scripts and defined roles in family and career. And now, as adults with agency and widening options, what if we step out of being a character in our culture’s movie or play? What then? What would we want to wear, do, be, love?
After I moved into my own place in June of 2020, in the early pandemic days, I’d walk into my new closet and see all the gorgeous maxi-dresses I’d collected over time, and I’d feel a disconnect in my body. I’d wonder “who was she?!” Since I didn’t have to go anywhere while working from home, I’d just grab the sweatpants and go about my day. I pause to consider if I want to curl my hair or apply lipstick. Now, as I’m moving out into the world, I’m faced with this idea of costume. I’m inspired by the flexibility and openness of those coming up after us (the millennials and GenZ), and I pay great respect to the elder-queers who paved the way for us and those younger to express as freely as we can now.
Just as women’s basketball has been inspiring me to view my body differently, many who are raising the visibility of queerness in our culture are inspiring me in how I could adorn and decorate and clothe my body in ways that truly come from within, like how I’d make expressive art…
…but are we dressing for ourselves or for each other?
Recently, Kristen Stewart’s Rolling Stone cover photo (below) received so much criticism for violating public expectations of female sexuality by wearing an open shirt and a jockstrap. For being “explicit” for having her hand in her pants. In an interview with Steven Colbert, she points out the societal double standard in it all by saying,
“Well, it’s a little ironic because I feel like I’ve seen a lot of male pubic hair on the cover of things. I’ve seen a lot of hands in pants and unbuttoned… I think there’s a certain overt acknowledgment of a female sexuality that has its own volition in a way that is annoying for people who are sexist and homophobic,” and Colbert replies, “I’ve certainly seen more revealing covers on Rolling Stone or Sports Illustrated for that matter.”
I’m all for this type of gender-expansive self-expression, challenging whatever archaic and confining norms we’ve been operating under. Finally, a magazine cover with a woman on it that was not specifically designed to appeal to men! In reporting the story of the criticism of this image, the LA Times said that Stewart is “doing it for her own gaze, not anyone else’s view of gender or sexuality,” and I’m honestly not so sure about that either…
While it’s admirable in terms of activism and visibility to challenge the norms as she (and her team) are doing here, it feels like Stewart and lots of other queer women are pandering to the queer gaze rather than catering to the male gaze. When I observe this, it sometimes feels like they’ve adopted a presentation that queer women and non-binary people find attractive at this moment in the queer zeitgeist — like the trends of wearing more masc clothing (even though clothing should never have been gendered in the first place) or in having the trendy millennial/GenZ queer mullet haircut (my non-binary kid has the very same hair style right now). Stewart’s vest, her sporty clothes, her arm tattoos. She totally knows what’s hot, and this photoshoot makes it look like she’s having fun playing with it all. In the LA Times article, Stewart talks about something I, as a queer mom to a queer teen, encounter often — the generational gaps among queer people:
“I look at these kiddos that are so chilling on all of those fronts, and can have [gender] be like an accessory, can actually play with the novelty of that — have [femininity] one day, not have it the next. I’m so aware of these things.”
I love the growing flexibility, the adaptability, the freedom so very much! Though portrayals that adhere to queer trends make me wonder if, while fleeing the traditional cage of gender expression, we are locking ourselves into a cage of a different color? Glennon Doyle wrote the following in Untamed, and I feel like it applies to so many parts of life, but certainly feels appropriate in the context of my quandary:
“Rebellion is as much of a cage as obedience is. They both mean living in reaction to someone else's way instead of forging your own. Freedom is not being for or against an ideal, but creating your own existence from scratch.”
Given this, I’ve been considering what it might look like to shape my own self-expression and beauty from the inside out. Is it even possible for us not to be influenced by culture, trends, and who might be looking? I’m still mulling this over and experimenting — perhaps I always will be. I’d love to be in conversation about how you hold these nuances in your own expression, if you’d like to share. (If you’re a paid subscriber, you can do so in the comments. If not, email or DM me!)
learning from: ALOK! My friends, this whole friggin’ episode will help you explore and discover beauty in a way that is even more free than you’d previously considered. It moved me so:
…and if you’d rather read it than listen, click here.
planning: an inspiring, free event for Lesbian Visibility Week, where I’ll be a member of a panel alongside two other queer award-winning memoirists, sharing the power of storytelling. Mark your calendar now, and join us on the evening of April 24. No registration required; all you’ll need to tune in is the Zoom link shown at the bottom of the graphic below:
thrilled about: My book earning a first place award from BookFest in three, fun, non-fiction categories: LGBTQ+, personal memoir, and transformative self-help
🫶 Whether you’re an unpaid or paid subscriber to prism, having a spot in your inbox is an honor I don’t take for granted. It gives my art and writing a place to breathe. Thank you.