Autoethnography. Entry 6 — Denial of lesbian identity’s worth in Russia
Today I would like to reflect on situations that happened to me back in Russia when I did not have enough dignity, confidence, knowledge, or courage to stand up for the lesbian part of my identity. Actually, there was no even one situation when I did stand up for it. Perhaps, I am just naturally a pretty shy and conformist person, or I simply was led to believe that LGBT people were second-class — as mass media and heterosexuals reminded us so often about — but for whatever reason, back in Russia, I did not understand how to defend myself in these terms.
Firstly, I remember a very unpleasant situation when I happened to walk around my neighbourhood with several people, a couple of them were female collages of my partner, and there was also a husband of one of these women, let’s call him D. All of them were aware of my partner and me being in a relationship. So quite suddenly, D. started to ask me some weird, really impolite questions about how homosexual people have sex and commenting on how this is disgusting and unnatural. I literally did not know what to say in that situation, so I did not. I just felt angry and a bit ashamed. The two young women felt awkward but also said nothing, trying to change the subject. Now I am asking myself — why did not I shut him up? And the only answer I have is that I did not feel any legitimacy to do that. As if what he was saying was true to some extent. The common perception I was surrounded by was that being non-heterosexual is shameful and better not to be exposed. The most progressive people (and I had several in my social environment) accepted homosexual friends, but even with them, the topic was nearly never discussed, although — believe me — there were lots and lots of issues to discuss.
I also remember another situation, when I was walking along the city centre with a girl holding hands. Some passer-by aggressively screamed lesbukhi at us (it is a derogatory version of lesbians in Russian). Another time, when I was sitting in a café with another girl laying my head on her shoulder, other people sitting by the opposite table were staring at us very attentively, if not aggressively. And this sort of thing seems to be pretty common — for some reason, it is ok for many Russians to comment on other people’s behaviour that does not concern them. Actually, the concept of personal boundaries was broken in the Soviet Union (or even did not exist before it in the first place), and the trend is continuing today, in my opinion. Even the notorious anti-propaganda law looks exactly like that to me as common sense — at least the one I live with — suggests that holding hands, hugging, kissing, wearing piercing, unusual clothes or haircut as well as articulating your own identity is just your own business, but Russian president and lawmakers obviously think differently.
Also, there were repeated situations with doctors — including gynaecologists — whom I never had enough courage to say I was a lesbian even though it was clearly important for my health. I felt bad after these consultations since I was not fully myself, and I knew I would not be accepted as I am. All the doctors were thinking in strict heteronormative terms, asking me why I had not had a baby (I was under 30 then, by the way) and that the clock was ticking and quite aggressively trying to encourage me to get pregnant, saying that later it would be much more difficult.
Another situation — that did not involve me directly but still was unpleasant — related to my mum mentioning words of my cousin (whom she met back then and who lives in allegedly more progressive Moscow) that my current relationships were not serious and natural. A few years later (when I was already in New Zealand), mum mentioned that the cousin accepted my way of life. I was pretty furious. It looked to me as if my relationships were considered by her second-class, deviant by default, but she became kind enough to agree that they also have the right to exist. This hierarchy is a bit sickening, to be honest. The whole idea of dividing people vertically is horrible, but it seems that it is being reinforced in Russians today by the government, which monopolized the sources of information and occupied the scene of ideas production. When people have a need to survive, to fight against an enemy, they pay much less attention to the corruption of those who designated and labelled some groups into enemies.
Finally, I cannot but mention the very similar feeling of my lesbian identity being second-class when I read some posts in a Facebook group of Russians in New Zealand. The scale of unreflective heteronormativity is astonishing. Initially, I tried several times to enter a discussion, but the views of some participants are beyond understandable for my common sense, logic, and sanity. So, I gave up. From time to time, I still see some homophobic ideas in the group and feel a hit of hopelessness that was so familiar to me back in Russia. This is too much’, “This gay tolerance is dangerous”, ‘this gay pride is a perversion’, ‘what about children?’, ‘we stand for traditional values, and gays don’t fit into them’, and other shit of that sort is pretty common in the group. I don’t understand how and why these people bring their homophobic views with them from Russia. As if this group is a small branch of Russia in New Zealand — several aggressive people push their homophobic ideas, and the rest just keep silent, not willing to be ‘accused’ of being gay or being ‘left’ or being sinful, or something else. Even feminist views are largely not supported in the group, which is also quite demonstrative, I think. This is exactly the understanding of what a proper nation should be like, from the point of view of those group members who support the patriarchal model. They are, unsurprisingly, overwhelmingly white, cisgender, heterosexual, middle-class, middle-aged men with no disabilities.
