I’m a cis-gendered, heterosexual, white male. I’m completely ok with all of these things, and I do not feel like any of them make me lesser or better than anyone else. They are just facts about me, no different than the fact that I have blue eyes and shave my head on a daily basis, and they are not things I am proud or ashamed of. They just are.

I’ve recently realized, however, that I have a major problem with being referred to as “straight.”

I grew up in the 80’s during the height of the HIV/AIDS crisis. When I was in my early teens I was very much impacted by the culture of fear that was aimed towards the LGBTQ+ community at that time. My peers and I called things that we did not like “gay.” If a male did something even remotely effeminate, they were ridiculed for being a “homo.” I could quickly elevate my voice to a “girlish” pitch, loosen my wrist, and evoke peals and peals of laughter from my companions by pretending to be a “fag.” Along with the laundry list of N-word jokes I knew, I had an equal number of “gay” jokes in my arsenal that I could whip out at a moments notice to any unwitting audience that was willing to listen.

I started to change in high school. I attribute most of that to the fact that I was in an arts magnet program and was actually exposed to, and became friends with, LGBTG+ people as a result. One of the most influential teachers I had at the time, Jay Marley, died after developing AIDS during my sophomore year in the program, and his loss absolutely devastated me. Like many people of my generation, I also attribute becoming part of the Rocky Horror Picture Show crowd to have opened my eyes in many ways about lifestyles and people that were different from those I had been exposed to growing up. My Mother also got a job in a restaurant that was owned, operated by, and largely catered to an LGBTQ+ crowd, so I had additional exposure as a result of that. As all of this was happening, I did a lot of self-evaluation and did not like what I saw so I attempted to do something about it. One of the things I had to work the hardest on was not referring to things that I disliked as “gay.”

At that time, where I grew up, “gay” was a slur. Something that was “gay” was never, ever, good. Moreover, any time the word “straight” was used it was generally in terms meant to express superiority over being “gay.” You never heard someone describe themselves as being “straight” unless it was to directly disabuse someone else of the notion that you were “gay.” Even the “straight edge” movement that went through the punk scene was flavored with homophobia, with the proponents typically being racists and homophobes on top of being against the use of drugs and alcohol (a trend that continues in groups like the Proud Boys today).

The more my social circle expanded, the more I came to realize that the term “straight” had been co-opted by people whom, as a general rule, were not the kind of people I wanted to associate with. So much so that even using the term to give directions became something I jokingly asked people to do (“We go forward in this car. Never go straight. It will kill you.”)

Obviously, times have changed. Being labeled as “straight” is, more often than not, seen as the “bad” thing these days. “Straight” has become synonymous with boring, inflexible, close-minded, uptight, and/or some other word that basically describes lame. Whenever someone in my social circles use the term now, it’s not because they are describing something they consider to be a positive trait of the individual in question. I cannot recall a single time in recent memory when I have heard someone describe another person as “straight” without it being done so in a manner that implies the person is “less than”. At it’s most charitable, it comes across as being almost pitying. Like the poor souls can’t help the way they are because they are just so “straight.”

The result of all this is that when the term is used to describe me, I bristle. In a way that even I find surprising. It’s a visceral reaction I physically feel, and it immediately puts me on the defensive. Even as I write this, I realize my reaction isn’t logical and this is one more thing I should add to the list of issues to talk about with my therapist, but for now it is what it is. Part of it is also because of the fact that while I’ve become very accepting of the fact that I am, in almost every way, utterly and completely average (and I’m happy with myself in that state), I still haven’t quite gotten over the hurdle of being OK with other people denigrating me personally for being so. I have found great comfort in the fact that many aspects of my life are routine, predictable, and unexciting. I’m not so good with people looking down on me as a result of it.

Before I wrap this up, I want to make something perfectly clear. I ascribe no ill intent to anyone who has ever referred to me as straight or to people who use that term to describe others or themselves. The whole reason I wrote this post is because I knew that my reaction to the term was not something that was necessarily rational, but one I needed to figure out for myself so that I could clearly express it. I’m also not going to hold it against anyone who designates me as straight in the future, whether they have read this post or not (although I will reserve the right to ask that they not if it happens). This is really just a data point I needed to sus out for myself and one I thought might be interesting to share.