Beyond Norms and Definitions:
What It Means to Be Queer

To explore the term, we didn’t turn to queer theory books but instead spoke with real people who live here and now and identify as queer.

Maybe Defining It Isn’t Necessary

No matter how many opinions are expressed in this article, it can never capture the full diversity of approaches and interpretations. If queer eludes definition, maybe defining it isn’t necessary. Discussion is an endless journey toward rapport and understanding. I am open to discussing queerness in any way — whether in search of truth or in generating new meanings. When I grow tired of it, I take a break until a fresh idea comes my way — then the process of re-defining queer begins again. What I write now is merely my second-to-last understanding of queer, one that transforms through articulation and the very act of explanation. This doesn’t mean that tomorrow I will say the exact opposite, but some nuances and shades of meaning will never remain the same as they are today. Queer is a postmodernist category — its ever-expanding meanings are both inevitable and beneficial.

For me, queer is, first and foremost, a body of academic theories that began with Michel Foucault’s “History of Sexuality” and took shape primarily in the 1990s. It is not a single theory, but a collection of sometimes contradictory ideas that continue to be debated today. Engaging with this subject academically, I deliberately project these ideas onto my own experiences and identity, questioning concepts of gender and sexuality that many perceive as natural and unshakable.

A Beautiful and Rather Abstract, Utopian Idea

Whenever possible, I try to avoid using fixed identity categories for myself — man, gay, queer, pidor — all of these impose certain boundaries and expectations. If a form I’m filling out includes a gender field with the option “Prefer not to answer”, I select it; even better when such a field doesn’t exist at all.

From one perspective, this is what queer is — an utopia where such questions don’t arise because there is no division of people into men and women, cisgender, transgender, and non-binary, hetero-, homo-, bi-, pan-, and *sexual. The list could go on endlessly, yet never encompass everything. It is a beautiful and rather abstract, utopian idea. It is interesting to discuss, but few believe in its implementation.

For this to happen, everyone and no one must be queer — queerness would have to disappear along with other identity categories. Trying to make it happen only results in adding queer as just another option among many. As a result, queer takes on definition and normativity, becoming one of the established options and rendering the utopia unattainable. However, the utopian nature of the idea does not mean it lacks potential — striving toward an ideal can still be productive.

One Is Not Born a Man or a Woman, but Becomes One

I work with queer theories in a much more grounded interpretation. The idea that identity is socially constructed is fundamentally important to me. Although we acquire some identities in childhood, they are not granted by nature but are shaped by culture.

In the maternity ward, identical swaddled newborns are tied with blue or pink ribbons, emerging already as boys and girls. Later, boys are given toy cars and guns, while girls receive dolls and hair clips. In school, boys carve wood and sweep streets, while girls cook and sew. Boys are drafted into the army to become “real men”, while an entire beauty industry is dedicated to crafting “real women”. These differences are not natural — they are produced. One is not born a man or a woman, but becomes one.

Queer is often positioned in contrast to LGBT+ politics that promote the “born this way” narrative. Most LGBT+ initiatives ideologically support the belief that sexuality is innate. In my opinion, this approach should be reconsidered. This argument is unnecessary for advocating LGBT+ rights: like all human beings, we have rights simply by virtue of our existence — it makes no difference whether we were born this way or became this way.

The Word ‘Man’ Doesn’t Make Me Uncomfortable

For self-identification, I use the word queer not as a noun — an identity, but as an adjective — a critique of identity. This emphasizes that identity categories are not natural, universal, or exhaustive for me.

The word “man” doesn’t make me uncomfortable, but what defines me as one is not secondary sex characteristics or chromosomes. Rather, it is experience, upbringing, and culture — the very forces that divide people into men and women, granting them unequal opportunities and imposing different expectations. I acknowledge the cultural influences that shape me while recognizing my right and ability to resist them. If certain traits or behavioral patterns assigned to men do not suit me, I may not follow them.

It May or May Not Be Reflected in How One Looks

I can also disregard expectations that others associate with queerness. Identities often imply a certain visual representation. I fully support people’s right to look however they choose and easily accept variations in appearance. However, for me, (queer) identity is a matter of self-awareness — it may or may not be reflected in how one looks.

I don’t associate self-expression through clothing or makeup with queerness, though for some, these things are deeply connected. I appreciate style experimentation, but I don’t pursue it myself — I have neither the inclination nor the talent. If I feel like trying something new, I do, but I rarely like the result. Maybe these skills can be developed, but for now, I don’t find motivation for doing so. Reflecting about queer brings me much more joy.