I Want To Hold My Girlfriend’s Hand In Public; People Need To Stop Being Weird About That

The first time my girlfriend and I left the house as a couple to go for a walk, she grabbed my hand and I was very excited about it. I really love holding hands with the people I care about. I liked to hold my niece’s hand when she was younger and we were crossing the road, I like to hold my gran’s hand on the couch when we’re talking and I (really) like holding my girlfriend’s hand. A lot.

This is my first queer relationship so it took me a few times holding her hand out in public to work out why people were acting so weird. I noticed it immediately — the staring and the sensation of being constantly watched. As the hand-holding continued, the pervasiveness and corrosiveness of the leers, double takes and stares caught me totally off guard. I felt suffocated.

Over the past few weeks, leading up to Mardi Gras, my Facebook feed has been full to the brim with videos of hands — hands being held, hands being brushed past one another, and fingers lingering with hesitancy. As an avid hand-holder, I paid attention. But as the #HoldTight video played automatically, the point of the campaign dawned on me and I quickly scrolled past. I felt panicked and emotional at the thought of having to face a message that had been breaking my heart on a daily basis.

Having only been ‘out’ for less than a year, this time last year I would have called myself an ally. It feels strange to know that had I watched this campaign a year ago I would have had a totally different reaction. I probably would have eagerly shared the video captioned with rainbow hearts and felt very happy about this outcome. I would have thought, ‘yeah! you hold their hand and you damn well enjoy it!’ But I didn’t understand what it really means to #HoldTight and how the wider community lets you know how they feel about it every bloody time you do.

I’ve noticed my relationship with hand holding in public changing. Sometimes I find myself holding my girlfriend’s hand in defiance rather than out of joy. The double-takers and the people who stare are taking hand-holding away from me.

When I finally got the courage up to watch the #HoldTight video, it stirred lots of feelings, but not the ones it was looking for. I don’t need inspiration to hold my girlfriend’s hand. The video told me that when I felt othered, unsafe or even sexualised in my own community, what I needed was bravery and pride. Instead, what I need is a community that makes me feel safe and included.

Last year, Beyond Blue released The Invisible Discriminator video. This campaign, in support of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people, not only pointed the camera back on to colonisers and migrants to reflect upon casual and insidious racism but also highlighted the impact it has. However, the campaign could have gone further and not only told viewers what they need to stop doing but also what they need to actively do to create an inclusive and safe community.

This is the kind of campaign I want to see next Mardi Gras. We need to point the camera at allies. There is only so much defiant hand-holding that can make the community get used to us and allow us to live out our love in the public eye without it being taken from us in some way. And sometimes we don’t want to continually out ourselves to the public to create space for our love. It can be scary and exhausting.

What we need is a campaign calling on allies to out themselves as just that — our friends, family and supporters — and actively create a safe and joyful space for all forms of love. Small things that help would be not doing a double-take if you see a queer couple holding hands, businesses and cafes designating themselves safe spaces for queer people, and public support of Safe Schools so young people begin building these spaces from childhood. These are just a few ideas. Reflecting on how you can build a safe and inclusive community should be a lifelong process.

It is a very vulnerable thing to know that you actually need allies to win battles for your future. We do need allies to create a safe community for queer life and love and all the expressions of it. When I grab my girlfriend’s hand in the street, our hands are politicised and I want them back.

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Dana Affleck is an organiser/campaigner from Melbourne. You can hear about the projects she’s working on and what she cares about on Twitter @danamariesa.