Content warning: homophobia, hate crime. The author has asked to remain anonymous.
A few years ago, my wife and I were the intended victims of a neighbour’s pre-meditated but thwarted homophobic attack. Because of a variety of circumstances, we ended up isolating for three weeks whilst the police and others held an investigation.
It had been many years since I had come out, and over that time I had a long journey with my lesbian identity that has included reluctance, shame, intrigue, pride, confidence, and acceptance (not necessarily in that order!). By the time this incident happened, I’d settled into a nice place of self-acceptance and happy visibility. I was happily married, an LGBT network representative at work, and had spoken about my lesbian identity in various media outlets.
But because of the incident, I became all too aware of my identity in another way—it was my visibility as a lesbian that nearly led to physical harm. My ownership over my identity, and thus the visibility surrounding it, was taken away from me – I didn’t have control over how people, even those helping, saw me.
I didn’t want to be The Lesbian Who Escaped the Hate Crime. I wanted to go back to being my office’s LGBT Network role model, the woman who proudly wore her #LwiththeT shirt at Pride, and the team sport coach with the Rainbow Laces, creating a safe space for young players to come out. But that was not safe to do.
Facing new circumstances, my wife and I realised that the best way to regain this ownership – to be safe, at that moment, in the best way possible – was to support each other. In the very acts of loving each other, we were visible, even if only to each other. Even if she was only one who saw me cooking dinner, finding new shows on Netflix, sorting out paperwork, and being me, it was still impactful.
Facing new circumstances, my wife and I realised that the best way to regain this ownership – to be safe, at that moment, in the best way possible – was to support each other.
I realised something important during that time, something that has helped me a lot over the last few weeks: being visible varies. Visibility does not need to be a big public profile or social media post. Sometimes, in some crucial moments, being visible is simply to be. You are visible simply by existing – and that visibility is worth celebrating.
In whatever form it takes, positive visibility can bring huge benefits. Having visible role models in professional fields, entertainment, sport, politics gives us something to aim for. Knowing that other people have survived the same struggles you’re facing can be empowering.
And being celebrated for who you are is an amazing feeling. But all these benefits can only be accessed if there is safety. That’s why Lesbian Day of Visibility is so crucial this year: whilst we want to enjoy all the benefits of being visible as a community, we must be safe in doing so.
As the world battles Covid-19 and adjusts to the challenges it brings, many of us are finding our traditional ways of being visible impossible.
Prides and other community events have been cancelled. Sports clubs or theatre groups which may usually provide us with friendship and safe space cannot meet in person. University classes are cancelled, ripping many LGBT people from safe living spaces. Many LGBT people are isolating in households where it is unsafe to be themselves.
As the world battles Covid-19 and adjusts to the challenges it brings, many of us are finding our traditional ways of being visible impossible.
Visibility takes on a different meaning in these times. Visibility can be writing a blog post. It could also mean reading an article and taking in its points—but it doesn’t have to mean sharing it. Visibility can be checking in with friends.
Visibility can be reaching out to LGBT groups, joining a webinar, participating in online spaces, or accessing aid. It could be leading discussion groups, volunteering in your community, or donating. It could simply be self-care.
Visibility takes many forms. Whatever form it takes for you, your visibility, your pride, and your identity are still valid.