I cannot count how often I’ve heard straight women say “I wish I were gay; it would be so much easier,” or “I know sexuality isn't a choice because if it were, no woman would be straight” whenever queerness comes up in conversation. These statements are often said in a lighthearted, half-joking tone, but this is the problematic heterofatalism speaking.
Heterofatalism is the all too common confession by often straight women (but also straight men) that heterosexuality is embarrassing, hopeless and imprisoning. This is coupled with the performative disaffiliation with heterosexuality and straight culture. The term was coined by Asa Seresin in 2019 in their excellent article “On Heteropessimism.” The term can refer to serious abusive relationship dynamics but most commonly relates to the mundane disappointments of the heterosexual experience. The concept is problematic both for its performativity but also for its emphasis on heterosexuality rather than on misogyny and gendered socialization processes. Furthermore, the fatalistic view taken by those in heterosexual relationships and/or with heterosexual attraction undermines any attempts at rethinking and reshaping heterosexuality.
Heterofatalism is performative because it seldom, if ever, is coupled with a genuine renunciation of dating and sleeping with men. Even if it were, and political lesbianism would see a second wave, that too could be problematic. Political lesbianism deserves its own post, but in sum: lesbianism is not and should not be centered around disliking men, but instead should be about loving and being attracted to non-men. Moreover, the notion that the solution to this house of heterosexuality being on fire is just to run off and let it burn feels less than progressive. By expressing a newfound self-awareness of how bad heterosexual relationships can be and performatively distancing themselves from heterosexuality, straight women may feel absolved of responsibility and the role they play in the reproduction of harmful heterosexuality.
This distance and disgust for men, and for relationships with them, likely makes their (hypothetical) male partners feel terrible and unloved. Moreover, as pointed out by Serensin, this distancing and performative attempt at redemption is, in actuality, just a renunciation of responsibility.
There is undeniable value in looking to queer relationships for feasible alternative relationship structures and dynamics. Especially now, during Pride Month, we should amplify the voices and knowledge of the queer community. However, straight people placing queerness on a pedestal above heterosexuality is problematic in many ways. First off, straight women wishing they were gay “because dating women must be so much easier” dismisses the fact that only 46% of people feel they can be open with their sexuality around family and close to one in four have seen or experienced LGBTQIA+ discrimination by healthcare workers. The queer experience can be wonderful but is seldom easy; heterofatalistic statements often ignorantly dismiss this. These statements also enforce the notion that women are somehow better and more empathetic lovers than men and wrongfully suggest heterosexuality as the villain and lesbianism as the hero. Lesbian divorces accounted for 72% of same sex divorces in the UK in 2019 and were also among those most common to dissolve their civil partnerships before same sex marriage became legal in the UK.
Neither men themselves, nor heterosexuality, can therefore be the issue that sits at the core of the pessimism women feel in their straight relationships. The downfall of heterosexuality can be traced back to the downfalls of gender and gender roles which are often enforced and performed more distinctly in heterosexual relationships. Especially under capitalism, where women now often take the second shift, doing most or all the unpaid care work alongside their paid labour, the maintenance of gender roles is exhausting. When we strip away the layers of heteropessimism, at the core is gendered socialization, misogyny, and the way men have been socialized to behave in relation to women and in relationships with women. In many cases, this is expressed as “toxic masculinity,” which can be but is not limited to unconditional physical and emotional “toughness,” violence, and a rejection of “feminine” tasks and behavior. Realizing that constraining and hierarchical gender roles are damaging to relationships among the genders doesn’t exactly require that much in-depth thought. However, as Seresin critically points out, heterosexuality should not become “shorthand for misogyny”—specifications need to be made as to what the problem really is so that it can be assessed and confronted.
By posing men as the issue, rather than rigid gender roles, women may be blamed for liking men and thereby also for heterosexuality. Straight women’s heteropessimistic remarks are often tainted with embarrassment, as if they were pathetic for being attracted to such an immature and annoying gender—as if women’s desires weren't already being shamed and repressed. Blaming women for somehow upholding heterosexuality because they continue to date men also reflects the popular social current that places the onus on the individual rather than wider social structures. Women’s individual choices aren’t going to solve gender roles and the problematic ways they show up in heterosexual relationships.
If this heterosexual house is on fire, running away and letting it burn isn’t a sustainable, forward-thinking solution. Straight women aren't the only ones to discuss this path: MGTOW (Men Going Their Own Way) are a subsection of the incel community who are also disillusioned with straight relationships and the opposite gender and believe a boycott is the best option. (If the incels are doing it, it probably isn’t the mature path to take.) Forcing people to repress their love and desires has never been successful or progressive, and shaming women for liking men may also suggests that men would not be worthy of being loved or desired.
Seresin also uses the burning house metaphor and asks us: what is worth saving? If you’re attracted to men, what is attractive about them? What qualities about men are lovable and desirable to you? This is an interesting question. I had to pause in my tracks, unsure if I had ever reflected on this question, or even ever been asked it. The fatal in heterofatalism marches heterosexuality towards an inevitable fate—but as with any social construct, heterosexuality, and the gender roles within it, can too be deconstructed and rebuilt.
Rather than accepting that we don’t like how women and men are conditioned to behave particularly within the boundaries of a straight relationship, we should reflect on how this can change. Unfortunately, this emotional labour is likely to be done by women in heterosexual relationships who often need to educate men on masculinity and its problematic behaviours. We’ve all heard the phrase “I can fix him” and the jokes about raising fully grown men. Transformative change must also come from men’s self-reflection regarding their masculinity. It, of course, takes two to tango, and women should also reflect on female gender roles and how they appear in their heterosexual relationships.
Not all masculinity is toxic, and we can perhaps again turn to queerness to reflect on ways in which masculinity might not mean violent or unconditionally “tough.” It is important to note, however that positive masculinity—like toxic masculinity—is a set of gendered expectations that can be damaging and restrictive too. We should perhaps instead seek to move away from gender roles and gendered expectations altogether.
Heterosexuality is not the inherent problem at hand: it is the way gender roles and gendered performances show up and are reinforced in straight relationships. Rather than dedicating energy to mourning or performatively boycotting heterosexuality, we must believe that heterosexuality and gender roles can change.
Written by Ellen Gisto.
