And relevant to that last reply, I certainly feel A Way about how the present online culture encourages– or even mandates– the disclosure of personal details, with the promise of better treatment. Or the implication that sharing this information is What Good People Do.
You don’t have to go far on Twitter to find people asserting that everyone should have pronouns in their bio, and that if you’re cis, it’s the bare minimum you can do as an ally, don’t even think of claiming to support trans people if you don’t have them. IRL, I use the pronouns associated with my assigned sex, and disclosing them means disclosing my assigned sex, which I don’t necessarily want to tell to every random stranger I talk to about video games. So I say “any pronouns” which is what I’m honestly comfortable with, but I wouldn’t be surprised if there are trans and non-binary people who feel like I’m a cis person trying to conceal my status and privilege and/or get extra queer cred.
Because that’s the other thing– identities have become a form of credibility. And, while the base idea that you should listen to people within a group about issues that affect that group is a very good one, it seems to have resulted in a culture where identities are listed to give additional credibility to anything anyone says. So you get posts like “Help an [LGBTQ identity] afford rent!” even though people should not have to out themselves to deserve help with rent (and indeed, cishet people also deserve shelter), and of course, people claiming identities they don’t actually have to gain internet clout. Not just that, people in a grey area (say, questioning their sexuality, or unsure if they count as disabled) are pushed to either claim an identity they aren’t yet sure of, or be excluded from the discussion.
But apart from the moral pressure, there’s also a creeping normalization of sharing personal details– here’s an app that will add a pride flag colored border to your Twitter profile pic, here’s a meme that requires your birthdate, post your selfie next to your art, etc. Of course some people genuinely enjoy participating in this sort of thing, and none of them are bad in and of themselves.
But not everyone on the internet takes these things in good faith. You may put a pride flag around your profile pic only to see your wider social circle sharing an “informative post” about how that identity is problematic, and wonder how many hostile people you’ve just outed yourself to. You might, as someone I know did recently, post about your depression and anxiety while a fandom argument is going on, and be accused of using “white woman’s tears” to sway people to your side (even if you weren’t talking about the argument). And while “Fuck you, I will be myself louder,” is a valid response to things like these, it can be genuinely distressing and uncomfortable if you shared that information to a community that seemed to promise sympathy and support in exchange for disclosure, but instead turned it into some weird form of social judo.
Personally, these days, I prefer “Fuck you, it’s none of your business”. Being yourself does not obligate an explanation, in fact, it requires you to be true to your own comfort level before anyone else’s.
jacobvanloon
