34 Public Displays of Affection That Straight People Take for Granted

Above: Real-life couple (and friends of the author) Norge (left) and Jeramy (right) consented to taking cute couple pictures at various locations across Atlanta, Ga.
ADVOCATE: Straight people may never fully understand the bravery it takes to be an out LGBT person, because their relationships are recognized and affirmed with every TV ad, romantic comedy, and Top 40 hit. LGBT people have to fight for representation and carve out spaces where “two men kissing” is not a frightening image but a celebrated one. In the face of sexual oppression and antigay violence, fearmongering and queer erasure, our public displays of affection are acts of revolt.

Browse these 34 PDAs that straight people take for granted, many of which still come with safety concerns for many people in the LGBT community. Those of us who are able should engage in them as much as possible, now more than ever. Show the world the power of #TwoMenKissing. Love each other, and dance all night.

1. Holding Hands
You’ve probably seen it: two gay men holding hands at a theme park, walking briskly, with rigid arms and cold expressions. They almost seem like militants, cutting through the crowd, matching stride, never cracking a smile.

“Look at the joyless couple,” a friend and fellow homo said, nodding at one such couple the last time I was at Disney World. Whenever I see one of these “joyless couples,” I feel like crying or cheering or screaming or some variation of the three. They are usually young. This may be the first time they have ever held hands in public, and they are determined to do it, goddamn it — but they’re scared.

Their body language betrays their fear. Other gay men spot it easily because we have all been there. I have been there. My first time holding a man’s hand was at a theme park, and I could hardly breathe. My palms were sweating, and after a few minutes I let go. Almost immediately I felt angry at myself for being unable to last longer. Around me, straight couples were walking by, fingers interlocked. It seemed so effortless for them, so comfortable. Why was I so terrified?

The wrongness and unfairness I felt in that moment was heteronormativity and gay oppression. These words might seem academic and sing of protest, but they describe very real problems. As gay men, we are taught to fear public displays of affection from day one — because the little animated boy dog falls in love with a girl dog; because Spider-Man swoops down to save Mary Jane, not John; and because, in the first story I was ever told, God created Adam and Eve, not … well, you know the rest. » | Alexander Cheves | Undated

Author ALEX CHEVES encourages you to leave your own suggestions for sex and dating topics in the comments. Hungry for more? Follow him on Twitter @BadAlexCheves and visit his blog, The Beastly Ex-Boyfriend.

The Tightrope of Gay PDA*

SALON: Even in the most progressive of neighborhoods, I find myself looking over my shoulder

With my boyfriend’s cousin out of the house on the second day of our visit, we decide to take a public bus to downtown Seattle from Shoreline, where she lives. It’s largely empty, though the space at the front of the bus is occupied by three 20-ish, husky white guys in baseball caps and flannel shirts. They seem around my age and remind me of guys I last talked to in high school but am still friends with on Facebook -- the kind who post pictures of themselves with their arms around each other, captioned “no homo."

They’re already there when we walk in, and as the bus leaves the stop, I wonder whether they paid attention to the way I walked on or to the sweater my boyfriend was wearing. A couple minutes on, my boyfriend reaches for my hand, and I nod him a silent “no” as I shuffle over, putting a few inches between us.

Not while they’re sitting there.

I can’t really remember the exact circumstances of when I first held a man’s hand in public. The emotions that preceded it have all faded, along with the person, in the ensuing years. What I do remember, throughout the five or so minutes that I grasped that boy’s moist palm, is anxiously searching every face around us, every person that passed us by, checking for any sign of potential trouble or disapproval. The simple act itself -- of taking my date’s hand -- seemed less a simple sign of affection than an open dare to voyeurs, an exercise in what my grandmother would have called “making a spectacle of yourself.”

In the five years or so since then, this anxiety at public affection has eased somewhat. In the course of our two-year relationship, my boyfriend and I have, naturally, made countless little public demonstrations of our affection for each other, made easier by the fact that we live in and generally frequent the more LGBT-friendly parts of generally LGBT-friendly Los Angeles. While holding his hand at the art house theater we regularly go to in Pasadena, or cuddling with him at the wine bars I like in downtown L.A., or even kissing him at the restaurants we frequent in Silverlake, I’ve learned to look around in suspicion a little less and to go with the moment a little more. » | Christopher Records | Published: Saturday, July 21, 2012

This essay originally appeared on Christopher Records’ Open Salon blog. [Sorry! I can't link to it; the server couldn't be found.]

* Public Dispays of Affection.