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A recent TikTok trend revealed a growing frustration in queer communities. A few weeks ago the debate over the presence of straight women in Queer clubs grew until it dominated my “For You” page. I have seen several LGBTQ+ content creators speak on the experience of entering queer spaces and being rebuked by straight women and/or harassed by straight men. It’s a conversation that continues to cycle amongst queer folks and speaks to a problem of entitlement from our so called “allies”.
The gentrification of the queer bar happens like this:
Straight women go to queer/gay bars because they don’t want to be harassed by straight men,
Straight women feel entitled to occupy and dominate queer spaces
Queer women go to these bars and expect to meet other queer women and grow increasingly frustrated by the overwhelming number of straight women OR straight women are overtly and loudly disgusted by their advances
Straight men start coming to the gay bar in order to meet straight women there and the space becomes unsafe for it’s intended crowd
The common experience that these TikTokers are communicating is the overwhelming inability to express oneself and flirt freely, now even in their own spaces. Although I cannot speak to this specific experience since there are so few queer spaces where I live, I can identify with the experience of being unable to explore, flirt, and cruise freely as a lesbian. Queer bars and clubs offer a haven for single, and even partnered, queer women in a world that wants to demonize and sexualize them. I've been at a regular bar or club before with a partner while horny ass men took iPhone videos, tried to separate and grope us. That’s not even trying to mention what happens when two people perceived as men share a kiss or dance together; the freedom to be who we are is why Queer bars and clubs exist. It can be incredibly frustrating to lose those spaces when the dominant group feels entitled to them as well as the uninhabitable places they already have.
I was surprised to go to the comment sections of some of these videos and find so many arguing against these creators; several heterosexual women were coming to the defense of themselves and others, claiming that gay bars were a safe space for them and that they had a right to be there. There is a lot of irony in this argument considering the presence of straight women often makes queer bars unsafe for queer people, but I’m not discounting their experiences. Women are harassed and endangered in heterosexual spaces because of the ways our culture glorifies straight male sexual aggression. Straight women could definitely benefit from bars and clubs created specifically for them, and women-only bars do exist in the world. Even if there aren’t any near you that doesn’t mean you can’t start your own Girl-Power space, or even a girls night at your local club. It’s a lot to ask heterosexual women to create bars as if that doesn’t take work, time, energy, money, etc. but how do y’all think gay bars started? The community saw a need and folks put in the work to create spaces where we could be safe.
Queer bars and clubs aren’t exclusive, anyone can go and there’s no special badge to verify your queerness. I don’t foresee anyone stopping straight women from entering; they’re paying customers too. The problem lies in the way straight women feel justified to use queer spaces for their own benefit without checking their privilege on the dance floor. Being queer-phobic and taking up room in a space that isn’t yours is not what allyship to the LGBTQ+ community looks like and I’d certainly hope that if you frequent gay bars you count yourself as an ally.
What this specific conversation exemplifies is the reality that not everything is for everybody. When a traditionally marginalized group creates something to benefit themselves, filling a need that isn’t being met by what already exists, it’s important to critically question how we engage that resource as outsiders and as allies. That’s not to say that queer clubs should be exclusive to queers and queers only, rather we must understand that when we are allowed to enter a space that isn’t for us it is a privilege and not a right to be included, and in some ways we should expect to be excluded. Additionally, there is absolutely nothing wrong with communities demanding that the things they create for themselves be exclusive so that they can maintain the safety of their people and the sanctity of their resources (or for any reason it doesn't have to make sense to us).
This extends past the need for dedicated spaces to include clothing, language, hairstyles, traditions, and everything else: respect for each other and our boundaries are what make equitable engagement across difference possible. To deny each other the right to define boundaries for ourselves and our communities only re-enacts the oppressions that marginalize some and privilege others in the first place.