Saying: ‘I don’t care that you are queer,’ to a queer person is not allyship. Here’s why

When I came out to my friend she told me, “I don’t care that you are queer. You are my friend and I will always love you.” At first, I was elated by the show of support, thankful that her love was present nonetheless, especially because I knew that many queer people lose friends and even family when they come out. 

But in subsequent times, I have begun to think long and hard about this statement and I have become conscious of how though well-intentioned, it can be unsupportive. 

Much of my thought process was inspired by how frequently I started to hear it being used among friends and allies and the unintended nuance that is communicated. 

When you say that you do not care that I am queer and you love me regardless, the statement implies that although my queerness is not something lovable, you love me anyway.

It goes further to cast the ally as doing a great job of acceptance whereas neglecting the role and effort LGBTQ+ persons play in summoning the courage to come out. In that instance re-calibrating the situation and making acceptance seem like a favor when it shouldn’t be. 

While the context in which friends and allies make this statement is not lost to me, and while I know that it is said to assure and support us, we must reckon with the fact that good intentions do not exonerate a person of the ability to cause harm. 

One of the many reasons why this statement is problematic is this: loving me without regard for my sexuality attempts to distance me from my queerness, to see me outside of it, again feeding the notion that queerness is something to be avoided at all costs. 

I am composed of many parts, including my sexual and gender identity, all parts are as relevant as the other and it is impossible to love me without acknowledging them.  

What is a love that is open to not caring about the very part of me that makes me vulnerable to violence and discrimination? 

When you say that you do not care that I am gay or trans and that you love me anyway, it is erasure and this is dangerous because this sort of erasure culminates in creating a non-issue wall around my gender and sexual identity.  

And when something is a non-issue it means that whatever problems or challenges affecting the matter will not be addressed. Correspondingly, if my queerness is a non-issue, you will be blind to the struggle and oppression I face as a queer person.

The harm this avoidance does to us filters into the availability of social amenities. In Kenya where I am from, research shows that widespread homophobia, biphobia, transphobia, and targeted sexual and gender-based violence continue to hamper access to HIV services among gay men, men who have sex with men, female and male sex workers, and transgender people.

See Also

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It is important for allies to recognize and accept us, to not jettison our sexual and gender identity from conversations. This recognition is crucial both to our mental wellbeing and to our demand for access to non-discriminative services, whether in healthcare, employment, or elsewhere. 

It is crucial in asking for legal reforms for LGBTQ+ persons, signing petitions, keeping our jobs, and living a standard life. Unless our sexuality is seen as a part of us in the same way heterosexuality is, then progress will always be stunted.  

Loving me regardless of my being gay or trans is as harmful as not loving me at all. It is why I am asked to ‘tone down my sexuality,’ as though it is something I can be removed from, as though there exists a switch for it. It is why I am expected to shrink myself, to hide parts of my queerness in certain spaces so as to fit in. No more. 

Dear ally, I need you to see me as all my parts, as whole, as complete, I and my queerness.

This post is published under our Voices category and as part of our Language series. It is solely the opinion of the writer and does not reflect Minority Africa’s editorial stance. Read more from this series here and contact the editors with ideas or thoughts on language@minorityafrica.org.