As I sat in the theater opening weekend with one of my best friends and watched Love, Simon, I was surprised by how hard the simple film hit me. I’ve seen way too many LGBT themed films with miserable conclusions to expect anything other than the unhappy endings movies tend to give to non-straight couplings, so after reading the book I was super excited to see it play out onscreen with a gay happily ever after.
I was naïve about the effect the scenes prior to the kiss on the ferris wheel would have on me. And damn near offended when I read Time’s piece asking if today’s teens needed it (um, yes).
Kids like Simon, in 2019, already have a good shot of fitting in. They don’t need this movie.
I’m one of them goddamn millennials so no longer one of those teens Time spends too much time thinking about, but not so far off I don’t remember clearly what being bi and in high school and freaked the freak out about what my non-straight status meant felt like.
Feeling that way didn’t magically disappear. The bullies haven’t, either. Or the self-harm and suicide such treatment can lead to.
So don’t you dare claim it’s all nirvana, kumbaya and bro hugs. When El Presidente works to ban transfolk from the military, his extremist veep thinks gay conversion isn’t torture and various states want to legalize discrimination, you don’t get to look down from your (presumably) straight (cause how could any LGBTer make those fantastically ridic claims) loft and decree all is well.
If kids like Simon (which is apparently liberal, middle class and “brusquely masculine” whatever tf that means) are all good with the fitting in, then why are so many still taking their own lives, even in those utopian liberal paradises? Just because your nearest and dearest may support you don’t mean anyone will. Hell, they might even work overtime to drag your ass down. Coming out is freaking scary.
Just because it’s forgotten don’t mean it never was
One of the criticisms leveled at Love, Simon didn’t come from Time but from certain friends and acquaintances who claimed it wasn’t all that bad. Funny, when I can pull up those text messages from six freaking months ago where fears ran rampant. Maybe those memories were blocked out. Maybe denial runs deep. Maybe some boat explosion resulted in amnesia. Or maybe it was just a case of not wanting to remember the (recent) past. Doesn’t matter, ‘cause any of those reasons are reasons why Love, Simon is important.
Hindsight isn’t always 20/20. Sometimes it’s marred by painful scars that remain fresh and oozing even years later. Even as LGBs are finally being accepted as normal, there’s a whole past to unpack and this little film brings every single part of self-acceptance out of the closet.
Even with all I could remember, there were things I hadn’t thought about since the days of discovering myself. Seeing Simon go through the same things, I worked overtime to keep my emotions in check. If I thought I could’ve, I’d have gripped my friend’s hand the whole time (but you know how boys can be and I’ve seen no signs that any semblance of bromancing is a part of our relationship and that’s kind of sad now that I think of it). I spent a lot of time unpacking it all and still find my mind all jumbled because of it.
Just imagine what this movie would’ve meant only a few years ago. Huh. Maybe I’d be a different person. Maybe I’d have spent less time worrying. Maybe I’d have less bad things to think back on. Maybe I wouldn’t have those damn intimacy issues.
At least none of those options lead me to deny anything. I deserve a cookie for that.
Personal experience, bro; something I doubt you have in this area.
I realized I had a secret around twelve-ish. I can’t really pinpoint the moment it happened anymore than scientist can pinpoint the moment that a common ape ancestor became human. It was an evolution of sorts that I didn’t realize was happening until I saw another boy and though hm. For the record, I was raised in a pretty open-minded home where my liberal mind was able to flourish. But do ya think I ran straight to my ‘rents and announced my bisexuality?
If you said “yes” you are Jon Snow.
I hid that like my smoking habit. How could I know how they’d react? “Everyone is equal and deserves equal treatment” was drilled into my head but this bi thing… would that be included when the outside world still treated LGBTers like crap? Not saying my parents ever did anything to make me think they’d be anti-equal rights but how could I be sure?
Yes, dear Time writer whose name I care not about, it was scary. Even telling myself what I was twisted my stomach. Who tf wants to be different? Who wants to challenge societal norms by just being?
While I eventually did come out (to mom, at least; I don’t actually remember if I did to dad) I found acceptance. Not everyone does. And I didn’t find it from everyone. Even a few people who were friends didn’t have the most welcoming of reactions.
Hurts, yea? And thanks to that, every single freaking time I came/come out (which never ends thanks to the old boy/girl idea peddled everywhere from Hollywood to D.C. to you neighborhood convenience store) that fear of rejection based entirely on being attracted to more than one sex remains, floating around in the back of my head, reminding me that not everyone is cool with something completely normal and natural and harmless.
Because I’m not default. And never will be.
What it means to be L, G or B isn’t ever obvious
There’s a scene where Simon, after accepting his sexuality, wonders what it means to be gay. Does he talk a certain way? Dress a certain way?
Walk, act, think or feel any particular way now that his love of boys can be spoken of? This isn’t just some amusing little thing to draw chuckles from the audience. This. Is. Sparta Life.
Straightness is portrayed a certain way in many films. Gayness, being the opposite of straightness, is also portrayed a certain way – usually flamboyant (like Jack) or doomed (think the majority of gay romance films). Gay boys tend to be portrayed as a caricature instead of just being ordinary (is that what “brusquely masculine” means?). Sure, there are Jacks out there and that’s cool but most of the gay/bi boys I’ve known (both biblically and platonically) act like any other boy out there. Your sexuality doesn’t dictate anything else about you, something I had to figure out, too.
When I first realized my little secret, I spent some time wondering if I needed to change anything about myself. Bi boys didn’t have an expectation to live up to (well, except for being easier than a first grade vocab quiz) but being somewhere between gay and straight made me wonder if it meant something. Could I still be me if being me didn’t involve putting my sexuality on display? In time, I realized I was who I was, no matter what I was. But some inspiration would’ve been helpful, y’know?
Diversity and inclusion means more than you know
I had no role models, something I recently came to realize when Nancy Wang Yuen (super smart sociologist and author who wrote a book you should totes buy and read) went and posted a thought-provoking tweet. Thanks, Nancy.
When did you first see yourself represented on screen?
— Nancy Wang Yuen (@nancywyuen) March 26, 2018
Check out those responses and see how important her work is.
Get Real (1998). Not much H'wood love for the B in LGBT so this is as close as my young, confused, scared self got. pic.twitter.com/hUfyGVnhYl
— Will, Prince of Fetch 👑 (@willvanstonejr) March 26, 2018
When your best isn’t good enough…
After rolling it around my head, I chose the only film I could think of that maybe possibly had a normal (boy/boy) relationship that didn’t end miserably. It was the first time I could relate, even if not completely, to the boy on screen. And since then, the list hasn’t really grown, thanks to Hollywood thinking all bisexuals are hot women (trust me, we’re not. Hot, yes. Women, no).
For me, and many like me, Love, Simon is a source of hope: the acceptance he receives, the journey with a happy ending he goes on, his questioning of what it means to be true to himself are all the things real world gay/bi boys know well. And because of the realism at its core (yes, Time, blackmail over sexuality is a thing so please shut up about things you’re all Jon Snow about) Simon is someone we can identify with.
Awards don’t make a film worthwhile
This is just plain stupid.
There’s a precedent for stories about gay teens coming into themselves. At the movies, films with lofty aspirations, from Oscar winner Moonlight to Cannes favorite Blue Is the Warmest Color, have made stirring and provocative art out of growing up–both what it’s like to discover your sexuality and how to reconcile it with the rest of yourself as you becomes an adult. This year, Call Me by Your Name, a delicately made film about a teenage boy who learns valuable lessons after having an affair with his father’s assistant, was effectively welcomed into the canon when it was nominated for four Oscars.
Emphasis is mine. All mine. Because I want to stress how incredibly stupid this is. I don’t care if Love, Simon doesn’t even win one of those MTV astronaut thingies; it is fully accepted into the “canon” because a movie doesn’t need Oscar noms to be the hope the hopeless need. Things are better than they used to be but when you take a peek at the Jabba the Trump you understand how far we are from not needing – yes, needing – films like Love, Simon, so take your film snobbery and shove it deep into your sunless crevice.
Because of this film, boys have come out – including Nick Robinson’s own brother – and that speaks to the power of representation. It gave people the courage to tell loved ones their deep, dark secret. That is far more powerful than some golden naked Ken doll. That is what really matters.
Don’t go questioning the needs of me and mine again. Next time I won’t respond with such family friendly language.
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Originally Published on OTV Magazine