What does the ‘plus’ stand for in LGBTQ+

— And what is the history of the acronym?

by Adam Bloodworth

If you’re wondering what the “plus” means in LGBTQ+, you’ve come to the right place.

LGBTQ stands for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer/questioning and “plus” represents all other sexual identities including pansexual, asexual and omnisexual – amongst many others.

It’s the accepted and inclusive way to refer to the queer community, who can be grouped by one common theme: the fact they don’t identify as straight or cisgender, and the “plus” signifies that all other sexualities are also included, not just lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and queer/questioning.

It is, of course, good practice to become well-versed at understanding each of the subsects of sexuality and gender, so you can be prepared socially for people who identify as something other than lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgender.

What does the “plus” in LGBTQ+ stand for?

The “plus” is the least obvious part of the LGBTQ+ initialism, and stands for those who aren’t questioning their sexuality, but identify as part of a group that might not be so well known or understood.

We’ve outlined the definitions of some of the “plus” terms below.

GLAAD, or the Gay & Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation, has explained why we needed to add the plus at the end of LGBTQ.

“Coverage of LGBTQ issues has moved beyond simplistic political dichotomies and toward more fully realised representations, not only of the diversity of the LGBTQ community, but also of LGBTQ people’s lives, their families, and their fundamental inclusion in the fabric of… society,” the organisation states.

And this has made a tremendous difference, GLAAD adds.

“Today, LGBTQ people’s stories are more likely to be told in the same way as others — with fairness, integrity, and respect. Journalists realise that LGBTQ people have the right to fair, accurate, and inclusive reporting of their stories and their issues.

“Fair, accurate, and inclusive news media coverage has played an important role in expanding public awareness and understanding of LGBTQ people”.

A run through of some key LGBTQ+ identifiers covered by the “plus”:

Pansexual

Somebody who identifies as pansexual experiences feelings of attraction (physical, emotional or sexual) towards more than one gender identity. Similarly, omnisexual people can be attracted to all genders, although they can tend to date a higher percentage of one certain gender.

Sometimes, pansexual people will refer to themselves as “gender-blind”.

Asexual

A person who identifies as asexual typically experiences little or no sexual attraction to anyone else. The asexual scale can differ from those who have a low sex drive, to those who don’t desire sex whatsoever.

Pomosexual

If you are pomosexual, it means you refuse, avoid, or don’t fit into any particular sexual orientation label that we already have. The idea is that pomosexuality (or being pomoromantic) aims to challenge strict categorisations of who you love or are attracted to and aims to show that the world is full of many people that you may want to be with.

Abrosexual

Abrosexuality is when you have different levels of sexual or romantic attraction to various people and genders throughout your life.

The strictest dictionary definition for someone who is abrosexual is someone who has “a fluid sexual orientation”. For example, you could be gay one day, asexual the next, then polysexual the day after that.

Intersex

A person who is born with variations in sex characteristics including chromosomes, gonads, sex hormones, or genitals that don’t fit the typical ‘male’ or ‘female’ definitions. This can include genital ambiguity. Intersex people, like everyone, can identify as any gender.

Genderfluid

People who are aware of the flexibility of their own gender, and may change their gender throughout their life.

A brief history of the LGBTQ+ acronym

People hold rainbow flags as they take part in the annual Gay Pride Parade in central Sofia on June 10, 2017.

The term ‘LGBTQ+’ aims to be as inclusive of as many groups of people as possible. However, the ways we describe the kaleidoscopes of sexual and gender orientations are always changing and evolving.

The sexual revolution of the 1960s gave birth to a train of thought which insisted that those who identified as non-straight should have their own term. The upshot of that was the term gay, which was positively adopted by the community in the 1970s. It was paired with the term “lesbian” and the two gendered terms became the norm.

The term LGBT came to the fore in the late 1980s, as activist groups rallied for an inclusive description of all those who identified as non-straight. In the 1990s, the term was accepted by those inside and outside the community.

However, tension between various factions of the community has sprung up over the use of the term.

To some, LGBT no longer seems representative of one community, with people identifying as identities which couldn’t be defined within the LGBT mould.

This thought led us to our current incarnation of LGBTQ+, which importantly includes those questioning their identities, as well as a ‘plus’ for the raft of others who feel different in a variety of ways. However, a debate still rages over how we should define our community, and whether or not we are truly one “community” after all.

The academic Eleanor Formby has even said: “I’m not sure that community is a very suitable word for such a diverse group of people.”

Eleanor’s research, conducted at Sheffield Hallam University, studied 600 responses about the phrase “LGBT community”.

She insists that “the concept is important but when it is used in the singular, which it so often is, this is not helpful to many LGBT people, not least because not all feel, or wish to be, included within a singular uniform community”.

“The word community is rarely, if ever, used for people identified as part of majority groups, for example, white community, able-bodied community or heterosexual community, so why do we use it for so-called minority groups?”

What other variations of LGBTQ+ are there and what do they stand for?

Nepal's Pride parade.
Nepal’s Pride parade.

The ever-evolving term LGBTQ+ has two common variants, although we can expect these to grow and evolve.

One is LGBTQIA, coined at the University of California, which introduced intersex and asexual to the fold.

There is also the even heftier LGBTTQQIAPP – lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, transsexual, queer, questioning, intersex, asexual, ally, pansexual – but there has been an inevitable backlash to that super long name.

For now though, it’s pretty safe to assume that LGBTQ+ is an inclusive and respectful term for all those who don’t identify as straight, although it’s important to respond to the requests of minority groups who may prefer to be called by another, more specific name.

Complete Article HERE!

How a survey of over 2,000 women in the 1920s changed the way Americans thought about female sexuality

In the 1920s, many women became more comfortable in their skin. But the facts of life remained in short supply.

By

American women still have fewer orgasms than men, according to new research that suggests that decades after the sexual revolution, the “orgasm gap” is still very much in effect.

One of the study’s lead authors at the Kinsey Institute for Research in Sex, Gender, and Reproduction told The New York Times that the gap persists because many Americans continue to “prioritize men’s pleasure and undervalue women’s sexual pleasure.”

As my research shows, these attitudes toward sexual pleasure have a long history.

But so do efforts to push back against them.

Almost a century ago, a pioneering American sex researcher named Katharine Bement Davis challenged the prevailing view that respectable women did not – and should not – experience sexual desire or have sex, except to please men or to have children.

Davis’s 1929 book, “Factors in the Sex Life of Twenty-Two Hundred Women,” completely upended this thinking.

By surveying everyday American women, she was able to show that it was completely normal for American women to have sex for the sake of pleasure.

An unlikely advocate for sexual liberation

Davis spent the first half of her career policing women’s sexuality, not promoting it.

In 1901, after earning her Ph.D. at the University of Chicago, Davis became superintendent of the New York State Reformatory for Women at Bedford Hills. While there, she studied the women in her care. Most female convicts, she concluded, were “immoral women.”

Davis’ efforts to enforce sexual morality drew the attention of philanthropist John D. Rockefeller Jr. In 1917, he invited her to lead his private agency, the Bureau of Social Hygiene, founded to study and combat prostitution and venereal disease.

During World War I, Davis promoted sex education to curb sexually transmitted infections among soldiers and civilians. Through this work, she became convinced that sexual ignorance – not sexual immorality – posed the greatest danger to women’s welfare.

Davis had long criticized the sexual double standard, which condoned men’s sexual experimentation but condemned women’s sexual experience.

Now, she also recognized that this double standard promoted women’s chastity at the expense of knowledge. She complained that discussions of women’s sexuality were “taboo,” which resulted in “distorted views, baffled speculation, and unfortunate experiences.”

Tackling a taboo topic

Insisting that Americans needed accurate information to achieve “a sane outlook on all matters pertaining to sex,” Davis made it her mission to teach women about sex.

But first, she needed to learn about women’s actual sexual experiences. Davis decided to undertake a large-scale study of what she called “the sex life of normal women.”

Davis’ approach was a dramatic departure from existing studies of “abnormal” sexuality focused on institutionalized populations. “Except on the pathological side,” she remarked, “sex is scientifically an unexplored country.”

Woman in white blouse seated in chair posing for a portrait next to a bouquet of flowers.
Katharine Bement Davis was frustrated by the double standard that celebrated men’s sexual experiences and condemned those of women.

By contrast, Davis explained, she wanted to understand “the woman who was not pathological mentally or physically.”

To that end, Davis distributed a detailed questionnaire to what she called “women of good standing in the community” from 1921 to 1923. The resulting study sample of 1,000 married women and 1,200 unmarried women was not representative – it skewed white, well-educated and well-to-do. But their responses allowed Davis to redefine female sexuality.

America’s first sexual revolution

Davis launched her study of women’s sexuality during what historians now refer to as America’s first sexual revolution. The second – and more well-known one – would take place in the 1960s.

In the 1920s, as one commentator noted, a “revolution in manners and morals” was underway. Sex suffused popular culture. Contestants in beauty pageants displayed their charms in skimpy bathing costumes and short skirts. Actresses flaunted their sex appeal on stage and screen.

New attitudes about sex affected the daily lives of average Americans, too. Young women throughout the nation adopted the sexy look of “flappers,” the term used for women who sported short skirts, rolled stockings and bobbed hair.

Prior to the 1920s, courtship often took place in the home, allowing parents to closely supervise couples. But the ubiquitous automobile – which one juvenile court judge had dubbed “a house of prostitution on wheels” – rendered adult chaperonage obsolete and granted young people unprecedented sexual freedom.

Meanwhile, birth control activists like Margaret Sanger and Mary Ware Dennett distributed contraceptive devices and disseminated sexual information in defiance of the Comstock Act of 1873, which had defined birth control and sex education as “obscene” and made circulating such materials a federal crime.

Sex, secrecy and shame

Even amid the nation’s first sexual revolution, the facts of life remained in short supply.

According to surveys Davis distributed to married women, only about half of the respondents believed that they had been “adequately prepared … for the sex side of marriage.”

After expanding her study to include unmarried women, Davis found that fewer than one-third of all participants received sex education from their parents.

Many women didn’t know how pregnancy occurred. Some had been unprepared even for menstruation. One recalled that when she experienced her first period, “I naturally thought I was bleeding to death.”

In place of information, many women imbibed shame. “Having acquired the feeling as a small child that any sex pleasure was shameful and a great sin,” as one respondent put it, some could never overcome their discomfort with sex. Another woman regarded all sexual thoughts as “something to be shunned like the devil.”

One response succinctly summarized the problem: “Our present secrecy, fear, and repression are responsible for most of our sex ills.”

Challenging the conspiracy of silence

Many women were eager to challenge what one called a “conspiracy of silence” surrounding female sexuality.

Study participants ended up providing Davis with over 10,000 pages of handwritten responses. She used this information to produce the nation’s first major study of women’s sexuality, a 400-plus page book brimming with both statistical data and personal stories.

Factors in the Sex Life of Twenty-Two Hundred Women” covered a wide range of topics, ranging from sex education to sex play. Running throughout the entire work, however, was one central idea: Women liked sex.

Davis included data on birth control, same-sex relationships and masturbation. At the time, these practices were universally stigmatized and often criminalized. Yet significant proportions of study participants engaged in all these activities.

Nearly three-quarters of married respondents reported using contraceptives. Many probably took advantage of state laws allowing physicians to prescribe diaphragms to protect patients’ health. Surprisingly, nearly 1 in 10 women admitted having abortions, even though the procedure was illegal in every state.

More than half of unmarried women and nearly one-third of married women stated that they had experienced “intense emotional relationships” with other women. In each group, approximately half described those relationships as sexual. This was a remarkably high figure, given prevailing views of homosexuality as sexual deviance and state laws criminalizing homosexual acts.

Nearly 65% of unmarried women and more than 40% of married women reported masturbating. Since nearly all physicians and pastors condemned the practice, Davis assumed the actual numbers were even higher.

Davis’ data demonstrated that “normal” women experienced what one called “natural sex feeling.” In short, her study showed that many women enjoyed sex for its own sake.

Davis believed that reliable data would lead to “more satisfactory adjustments of the sex relationship.” In other words, better information would lead to better sex.

Davis paved the way for future studies that validate women’s sexual pleasure. While researching female sexuality, she established the National Research Council’s Committee for Research on the Problems of Sex. The Rockefeller-funded committee later subsidized Alfred Kinsey’s studies of human sexuality.

Davis’ legacy lives on. The findings from the Kinsey Institute’s latest study show that discussing sexual pleasure still matters, particularly for women. It also suggests that Americans’ understandings of sex have improved over the past century.

When Davis conducted her study in the 1920s, she found it “advisable” to define “orgasm” for participants who were unclear on the concept. Now, a generation of better-informed Americans ponder how to address a persistent “orgasm gap.”

Complete Article HERE!