Autoethnography. Entry 12 — Comparing being a lesbian in Russia and New Zealand

My decision to move from Russia to New Zealand for good was significantly influenced by the lack of acceptance of homosexuality in general and me personally as a lesbian I faced in Russia. I could not clearly formulate it back then as I had very little understanding of how acceptance actually works, but I clearly felt something was not right. The constant need to monitor my behaviour in terms of not displaying affection for my partner in public, not saying anything that might potentially reveal my homosexuality to somebody who may take it negatively (which was the majority of people around), lying about my relationship status at work (I invented a boyfriend when colleagues asked me about my relationships as being single is stigmatised to a large extent in Russia, and I did not see any positive outcome of me saying I had a girlfriend). Everyday small lies, silences, lack of the ability to speak up and stand for myself — I even could not shut up homophobic jokes, which were pretty popular around. The artificially inflated moral panic around homosexuals added a lot to the stigma around them that is rooted, I believe, in the jail culture, which, in turn, is still very widespread in Russia (even high standing politicians often use jail jargon, it is considered ‘masculine’ in away). The lack of non-heterosexual role models was also critical. When my partner and I went for a vacation to Europe (when we still lived in Russia), I was very much surprised to see unconventionally looking people (very likely from the LGBT community) and same-sex couples on the streets. It is not something one could normally see in Russia (except for the capitals, perhaps).

There was quite an interesting sentiment around the need to hide one’s non-heterosexuality back in Russia, namely that “it’s no one’s concern who I am sleeping with”. I shared it to some extent but simultaneously felt that something was wrong with it. And later, already in New Zealand, I understood what it was. The thing is that homosexual — like any other — relations involve not only physical relations, which is sex, but love, attachment, care, everyday joys and issues, and so much more. It is stupid to reduce any relationships to sex (unless they intentionally and consensually involve sex only). But this sexualisation is a feature of how society often perceives relationships outside of heterosexuality. And non-heterosexuals frequently internalise this perception repeating that ‘I don’t think people need to know about my sex life that is why I don’t tell them about the fact I am homosexual’. But what about all the other aspects of one’s family life? Why do heterosexuals feel totally free to share on social media photos where they hug and kiss their partners, but homosexuals will be said to be ‘broadcasting their sexual orientation’? Why can the former hold hands on the streets without fear to be harassed but the latter cannot? Why does one need to be ashamed of saying who they are? Why does one constantly have to prove that they are not perverts and monsters molesting children? Why speaking about oneself is considered to be propaganda in one case (LGBT people) but not in the other (heterosexual people)?

Also, I get furious when heterosexuals ask why LGBT people need Pride Parades as heterosexuals allegedly don’t have them. But they do! Not only the marriage as an institution and as a phenomenon itself is a parade of heterosexuality, but all the reality around us is still heteronormative and celebrates predominantly heterosexual relationships. In Russia, it is pretty much the only type of relationship that exists in the public and media sphere (again, I am not speaking about the capitals, the situation there is somewhat different, although inconsistently). Everywhere you look in Russia (journals, TV, ads, people around you, etc.), you see a parade of heterosexuality. I think only the Internet creates some space for LGBT+ identities in the country, but it is predominantly its English-speaking sector as Russian one is dominated by government-supported messages and ideas, although there are some exceptions to it.

Interestingly, I started to understand all that only when I left Russia. When I lived there, I could not formulate what was wrong with the situation; I just vaguely felt it. But here in New Zealand, I realised how important it is to be taken just as a normal person by those who surround you. And by saying ‘normal’ I don’t mean like everybody else, no. There is an understanding here that I can feel and see that all the people are different, and it is great. Different experiences, different perspectives, views, and ideas make our lives richer and fuller. Equality does not mean sameness, rather, it means equal value/worthiness to every background, every story, every trait and aspect of one’s personality and identity. This is what is lacking in Russia, in my opinion, the egalitarian approach to all people. That is not to say that complete equality has been achieved in NZ (there are still many issues regarding that), but, to me, the most important thing is that most of the society shares the view that different people should have equal value and that difference is a good thing.

Speaking of difference, I have noticed that people here perceive me in terms of my sexual identity completely different in comparison with how it was back in Russia. Most importantly, I don’t have to hide it. I can mention my partner to a doctor or at a job interview, be happily received as a couple with her at our 65+ yo friends’ place and rent accommodation as a couple. We as partners have the same legal rights here as other couples, married and non-married, hetero- and homosexual. Being legitimate appeared to be useful for wellbeing — I feel much freer, calmer and more confident now. The only type of situation I experience here when I feel uncomfortable and have an urge to hide or twist the truth regarding my sexual identity/orientation is when I communicate with Russians in NZ. Not easy to say why. Perhaps, because of the homophobia some of them openly display. Perhaps of the stigma and shame attached to homosexuality, some of them still convey around themselves. It often feels that some of them left Russia, but Russia did not leave them. For example, I was deeply offended when an acquaintance of ours in NZ who moved here from Russia several years before us reposted on social media an ad for a conservative party (it was before the 2020 government election) and mentioned ‘traditional family’ as something she strongly supports. I sincerely don’t understand how some Russians, including this person and my mom, for example, manage to reconcile in their minds their love for ’traditional family’ and non-heterosexual people whom they know and perceive positively.