“Bury your gays” – How media affects the LGBTQI+ community

WARNING: This post contains spoilers.

I just finished watching Wentworth last night and I am livid, heartbroken, and enraged. At first glance, Bea Smith’s death just seems like the termination of a main protagonist, but for anyone emotionally invested in the show, they know it was much more than that. I get it – main characters have to die occasionally. Whether it’s merely for added drama or because of an actress’s obligations with another show, some good things must come to an end. I can accept that. What I can’t accept though, is the overrepresentation of deaths to openly gay or bisexual protagonists who are already underrepresented in the media.

Some of you might be rolling your eyes at my last sentence and responding with, “Get over it,” or “It’s just a television series, don’t take it so seriously,” but how can we not? (And by we, I’m referring specifically to the LGBTQI+ community). Media, specifically television, has an undeniably powerful influence on our beliefs of the world. How many of you believe in a “happily ever after” with specific reference to relationships? Almost everyone does on some subconscious level. Have you ever wondered where this concept originated from? Probably from those Disney movies you adored when you were a child - the hero always got the girl and it was always a happily ever after. It’s not unreasonable to suggest we have all been brainwashed into adopting this same unrealistic expectation of relationships. Except for gays. What have they learned from television? That there is no happily ever after.

This statement might seem like an exaggeration, but it’s not. Ever since 1976, there have been 166 recurring and open lesbian and bisexual characters that have died in television series (See: Autostraddle). Although that number might not initially seem like a lot, take into consideration that gays represent less than 4% of total characters on screen (which is a gross underrepresentation of reality). Not only is it an issue that these characters are being killed off, but it’s the manner in which they are being killed. Frequently their deaths proceed a long-awaited exchange of intimacy or an extremely joyous occasion, all of which heightens the heartbreak of their death.

All of this was first brought to my attention earlier this year when I was watching The 100, a television series on the CW. Part of my motivation for watching this series was because of the “ship” (relationship) between Clarke and Lexa, an openly gay female protagonist in power. Their first exchange of intimacy occurred in Season 2, Episode 14 and the media world went crazy. Individuals from all over the world started to ship these two characters and the director, Jason Rothenberg, capitalised on this. He continued to build suspense and sexual tension until Season 3, Episode 7 when Clarke and Lexa became intimate. FINALLY! Nearly nine episodes after their first kiss they finally solidified their connection in a highly anticipated sex scene. Everyone, particularly the LGBTQI+ community, was relieved. Excited. Joyous. Ahhh all the feels! But that ended less than two minutes later when Lexa died. And not heroically either. She died by a stray bullet.

The same situation rings true for Bea Smith in Wentworth. For numerous episodes, the directors built the sexual tension and excitement of something new and foreign between Bea and Allie Novak. This consequently created audience members to start “shipping” their relationship, i.e. rooting for them to be together. And in Episode 11, Season 4, they were finally open about their relationship. In Episode 12, we saw a beautifully sensual and romantically intimate exchange between these two characters; Bea’s first time. Less than five minutes later though, and Allie was fighting for her life after Ferguson (the Freak) gave her a “hot shot” (drug overdose). When Bea received news from Maxine (a prominent transsexual character who is dying of cancer) that Allie would never breathe by herself again, Bea was shattered and distraught. She took it upon herself to attempt to kill Ferguson which ultimately led to her own demise. And the demise of her and Allie’s relationship. After countless episodes of impatiently agonising over their ship, we were granted a measly few moments of pleasure. Seems reasonable right?

So why is this all a big deal? Well, when we are constantly being influenced the images we see on television, how is the LGBTQI+ community ever supposed to believe in a happy ending for themselves when it doesn’t even exist in a fictional world? When these significant deaths occur, moments after very passionate, intimate exchanges, it subconsciously communicates that sex between two women is “bad”. Again, you might be rolling your eyes at this statement, but this is easily explained through trace conditioning. When the neutral stimulus (NS) is proceeded by an unconditioned stimulus (UCS), and the interstimulus interval (ISI) is extremely short, the UCS will then become associated with the NS. In this example, sex is the neutral stimulus and death is the unconditioned stimulus. Because the time lapse (ISI) between the two is extremely short, the UCS, death, becomes associated to the NS, sex. The audience, specifically the LGBTQI+ community who is invariably significantly invested in one or both characters, will associate lesbian or bisexual sex with death, or at the very least, with something “bad”.

After the death of Lexa in The 100, the fans revolted. There are also claims that some fans were driven to harm themselves and even consider suicide. For many, this might seem extreme. But Lexa’s death was not an isolated incident; this demise of openly gay and bisexual protagonists has been occurring since 1976. And just recently, between June 1, 2015 and May 31, 2016, there have been 26 lesbian and bisexual women killed off. These include, but are not limited to, Sara Harvey from Pretty Little Liars, Poussey Washington from Orange is the New Black, and Helen from Masters of Sex (See: LGBT Fans Deserve Better).

When members of the LGBTQI+ community so heavily identify with other like-minded characters in television series, the characters’ deaths can not only be heartbreaking, but can also be emotionally traumatising. Because they see themselves in and live vicariously through these characters, they begin to mirror their emotions and feel what their screen counterparts feel. So when a character has just had sex, the elation experienced is not isolated to those on the screen, it overflows to its audience. But to proceed such a liberating, sensual, and positive experience with a death? Yeah, that might fuck a few people up.

For many who are not yet open about their sexuality, witnessing LGBTQI+ protagonists offers a sense of community and belongingness, albeit fictional. Additionally, the LGBTQI+ community is grossly underrepresented in the media so whenever an openly gay or bisexual character is a protagonist, individuals latch on because, well, they don’t have a lot to choose from. Another reason individuals of the LGBTQI+ community readily identify with LGBTQI+ protagonists is because of this “Bury Your Gays” trope. Because maybe, just maybe, this time will be different. Maybe there will be a happy ending. Maybe there is hope for all of us after all. But, that maybe is still yet to become a reality.

So what effect does killing off gay and bisexual protagonists have on individuals in the LGBTQI+ community? Well I cannot speak for anyone else, but I can speak for myself. Bea Smith’s death was not just about a protagonist dying; the hope of her relationship with Allie died with her too. The hope of any kind of enduring lesbian relationship in this show was terminated along with her death. People might argue, well there’s still Franky Doyle and Bridget Westfall, but they are no longer main protagonists. Nor is their relationship a primary focus. I was devastated last night upon watching the series finale. The heaviness in my chest was not just isolated to this fictional event; it brought back feelings of former personal relationships that have ended. I found myself saying things like, “Fuck love,” and, “What’s the point in loving if there’s never a happy ending, even in a fictional world?” Some might argue that I’m too attached to characters in this fictional world, but our subconscious uncontrollably projects our beliefs about reality from this world. Although I can consciously remind myself that television is not an accurate representation of reality, subconsciously I internalise all of these emotions; the heartbreak, the disappointment, and the emotionally shattering realisation that there is and might never be, a happy ending for characters I so heavily identify with. This leads me to question; what chance do I have?

LGBTQI+ Fans Deserve Better.

Autostraddle: http://www.autostraddle.com/all-65-dead-lesbian-and-bisexual-characters-on-tv-and-how-they-died-312315/

LGBT Fans Deserve Better: http://lgbtfansdeservebetter.com/blog/2016/06/01/all-dead-lesbian-and-bisexual-women-on-tv-2016-2017/

Negative charge

Have you ever found that no matter how pure your intentions seem, people still react adversely to whatever it is you’re trying to explain? It could potentially have something to do with this concept of being negatively charged. So although consciously our intentions seem integral, subconsciously we have an ulterior motive; we are projecting childhood insecurities through a seemingly subtle, but obvious negative charge.

This post is in response to my most recent post titled Be yourself and be okay with it. I had an awakening discussion with one of my mentors who challenged my intentions for pursuing an authentic life and encouraging others to do the same. He admitted that his desires for pursuing an authentic life and coaching others to do the same stems from years of having to suppress his true self because of the religious environment in which he was raised. And then something clicked in me. My desire to live authentically, openly, and freely is charged by the years I have had to suppress my sexuality.

Whenever I meet a girl I am potentially interested in who claims to be private or who is not open about her sexuality, my heart contracts and a subconscious tension arises within me. Instead of feeling openness in my heart, I feel charged, constricted, heavy. My intentions are not pure, but I am unaware of this reality. On the surface, I believe that my encouragement to be open and free is logical, reasonable, and desirable. But that’s not how it is perceived or received. Subconsciously, my heart panics. My heart refuses to experience the suppression that caused so much suffering throughout my childhood. So although I appear to be tolerant of my partner’s desires, there’s a subtle resentment towards them because I feel they are forcing me to become something I fiercely oppose becoming again: suppressed.

I realise and admit that my former post was negatively charged. My desires for expressing authenticity and wanting the same for others was not simply because it’s liberating and I dislike living a private life, it’s because I have an aversion to suppression. And this aversion is fuelled with emotions. Negative emotions. Because of this, it instigates barriers within others and activates their defence mechanisms. Albeit what I’m saying might make perfect sense, it is the way in which I am saying it that causes this defiance and opposition. It is the charge that is associated with these words that hinder their receptiveness.

It is also easy to detect this charge in others. There are times when people will question your actions because of a genuine desire to understand and other times when your answer will be completely irrelevant. Although there is no verbal recipe for detecting the latter, it is invariably something you will feel. No matter the answer you give, their dissatisfaction and charge will persist. At that point, it might be best to acknowledge that whatever answer you provide is irrelevant and to proceed to another topic.

So any time you find yourself feeling passionately about a particularly topic and desiring that for others, yet it seems to be creating adverse reactions - question your intentions. Question what is fuelling that passion. Why do you feel so strongly about this topic? Is it because of a preference or an aversion? The latter being associated with a negative charge. Being able to detect this within yourself will not only eradicate the charge, but it will consequently create a space of acceptance for those who willingly prefer whatever it is you oppose. And it is in that space where understanding is discovered and love is experienced. It is in this space where intimate relationships are created.

Be yourself and be okay with it

I have this phrase tattooed on me. Well, not tattooed, but I have it engraved on the dog tags that I wear all the time in remembrance of my Opa. He epitomised this phrase. He remained his quirky, stubborn, authentic self with not a care in the world for what anyone else thought. Liz Gilbert articulates this brilliantly in Big Magic, “We all spend our twenties and thirties trying so hard to be perfect, because we’re so worried about what people will think of us. Then we get into our forties and fifties, and we finally start to be free, because we decide that we don’t give a damn what anyone thinks of us. But you won’t be completely free until you reach your sixties and seventies, when you finally realize this liberating truth – nobody was ever thinking about you, anyhow.”

Being your inauthentic self is draining. You’re constantly evaluating yourself and adjusting your behaviour and speech to conform to those that you are around out of fear of not being liked. Instead of focusing on enjoying your company, you become so consumed with yourself and others’ perceptions of you, which is something you cannot control anyhow. And chances are, the people you are with are also consumed with the same thoughts because we attract what we elicit.

A large part of my heart dies whenever I see someone living inauthentically or living via their representatives. And it’s easy to recognise. These people are always “on”. Always focusing on accommodating others. Always consumed with upholding this idealistic image of themselves. Always filtering what they say, what they do, and how they might be perceived. Just talking about this is exhausting. If you find yourself acting differently around anyone in your life, you’re living a lie. When you fail to act true to yourself, you attract the “wrong” kind of people. You attract people who don’t love you for who you are. They love you for the image that you are. Or for what they think you are. Wouldn’t you rather be loved for being yourself than hated for who you are not?

I struggle when people tell me that they’re “private” individuals. What is it about your life that is so private that you cannot share with others? Is there really anything in your past that can inflict that much damage on your present? Or is it the fear that sharing such information will alter the perceptions of those closest to you? If you cannot be your authentic self because those closest to you will not accept it, then those aren’t your people. And that isn’t love. And yes, I am referring to family too. If your family cannot accept you for all that you are, they don’t really love you. They love this idea of you.

Perhaps you feel content with living your life vicariously through your representatives. Perhaps you don’t even know who the real you is anymore. Perhaps you don’t even think this is a problem that you need to fix. Perhaps you are perfectly okay with living a lie. Being a lie. Perhaps then you are okay with only experiencing mediocre love. Fake love. Superficial love. Because I assure you, being private doesn’t just affect you. It affects anyone you become involved with.

Some people might say that I am extremely fortunate because I can live a life so openly and freely and people just accept me for who I am. That is not fortunate. That is intentional. I’ve created this environment for myself. I only surround myself around those who do just that, accept me for all that I am. In my entirety. Sexuality and all. If they can’t accept me, they don’t love me. And I consciously choose not to associate with them. This may seem harsh and abrasive, but it’s not. It’s about preserving yourself and your energy. When you can’t be your beautiful, raw, authentic self because you feel you need to uphold this image of yourself, that’s wasted energy. It’s draining. Exhausting. Restricting. It’s also essentially lying.

I once was seeing someone who claimed to be a private person. At first, I accepted this. That was who she was. But then it started to affect me negatively. I had to watch what I said to friends, I had to watch the way I behaved in person, I had to essentially live a lie. And I was not comfortable with that. I’m so open that when something is good in my life, I want to share it with people. I don’t want to spend excess energy on filtering what I say or what I do, but I was unable to do that with this person. And she was unable to share me with anyone in her life. Why? I suspect out of fear of how she was going to be perceived. She feared that others might judge her, or that they wouldn’t understand, or that they wouldn’t accept her – she feared rejection of herself. So what did she do? She upheld the image she knew they would accept. She lived a lie. And I was forced to live that lie alongside her. Until I decided this was not what I wanted and that I wanted better. I wanted freedom. I wanted authenticity. And not just selectively behind closed doors. I wanted it openly. Consistently. Always.

If you find yourself having to filter what you say around your friends and family, I suspect it stems from fear. Fear of being judged or fear that what you tell them will make its way back to someone you aren’t wanting to be privy to that information. If you have these fears, these aren’t your people. Good friends don’t gossip. Nor do they judge. Instead, they accept. They understand. And they love. And in regards to the fear of an individual finding out this information, withholding this information from them means that you’re lying. You’re manipulating them. People often think that it’s out of kindness that we withhold information from others; we’re saving them the pain, but who are you to determine what will hurt someone? To determine what they can and can’t handle? Often times we lie not because we don’t want to hurt the other person, but because we fear being judged. We fear that our image will change. We fear that this victim mentality we have so clearly narrated for years and garnered support for will suddenly be dismantled and discredited. So instead, we lie. We live a lie. And we become a lie.

So I challenge all of you. If you consider yourself a private person, ask yourself why. What is it about your life that is so private you do not wish to share it with others? Or is it that you do not trust the people you are sharing it with? If it is the latter, I challenge you to ask yourself if those are the people you want to surround yourself around. People who will judge you. People who you have to be “on” around. Being your authentic self all the time is the most liberating experience you can encounter. Don’t do things to please others, do it to please yourself. Because the only person you were brought into this world to please was yourself. Being yourself is not just your birth-given right, it’s also your responsibility. The world needs more of you – the complete, unique, authentic you that is hidden under layers of images and representatives of you. So I encourage you; choose freedom, not fear.