How Appearance Ideals Impact Queer Identity
In this blog, Butterfly Collective member Lumen discusses how society’s harmful appearance ideals can impact queer identity.
I recognise that I hold immense privilege as a white, middle-class, educated person, which significantly influences how the world responds to me.
Appearance ideals are more than just socio-culturally derived pressures; they dictate access to safety, belonging, and basic respect. As is the case for so many people, I was born into a world that expected me to conform to cis-hetero-normative, ableist standards and assumptions. Many of these were (and continue to be) centred around appearance, conflating an individual’s worth and character with how well they meet certain beauty standards.
As a queer, trans, Autistic, ADHD, chronically ill, disabled person, I have spent a significant portion of my life contending with society’s rigid appearance ideals and the discrimination that comes with defying them; this began before I even had the language for my identity.
From childhood, I absorbed a very clear message from the world: that difference was not necessarily acceptable. I also rapidly learned – consciously and subconsciously – that a surefire way to avoid (or at least reduce) discrimination was to blend in; that is, to look a certain way. It wasn’t that I wanted my body to meet society’s standards; it was that I wanted to erase any possible aspect that could render me more vulnerable to being criticised, othered, or targeted. The pressure to fit in was relentless, not just for others’ approval, but for protection. The closer I adhered to cis-hetero-normative ideals – which dictated how I looked, dressed, behaved, and lived – the easier it was to move through the world. However, this came at a high cost, with profound disconnection from self, enormous amounts of internalised shame, countless efforts to bend myself into whatever shape fit society’s mold while simultaneously attempting to mitigate gender dysphoria, and a deep belief that any acceptance or love I received was conditional.
Disentangling my identity and coming into my queer, trans self has made things feel immeasurably more cohesive internally. It’s also involved significant changes to how I look (tattoos, piercings, clothing, hairstyle, top surgery, going on testosterone, etc.), as that’s what’s been affirming for me personally.
Throughout this reclamation of self and body, however, there has also been a parallel intensification in the way my appearance (and, by extension, existence) is policed and judged. In a society built on hierarchy, oppression, and conformity, I am now far less compliant and palatable (I have always been somewhat of a menace).
Appearance-based discrimination shapes so many aspects of life: my safety in public, access to medical care, access to secure accommodation and employment, whether I’m responded to with dignity and respect, and my ability to move freely in certain spaces. Unless I’m in an environment that is genuinely safe and affirming, the more ‘visibly’ queer or trans I am, the greater the risks. This is becoming ever more relevant, as far-right, anti-LGBTQIA+ rhetoric, policy, and violence have recently surged in a manner that is escalating and ongoing.
The Butterfly Foundation’s recent report on the social and economic costs of appearance ideals highlights what many of us already know: that body dissatisfaction (alongside eating disorders, anxiety, depression, and trauma) is disproportionately high in the LGBTQIA+ community. Appearance ideals significantly harm LGBTQIA+ people, reinforcing a hierarchy of who is viewed favourably, and often creating a dissonance between authenticity and self-preservation. Historically and at present, our bodies (how they look, what they do, what we do with them, how they deviate, and what that means) and identities are scrutinised, pathologised, fetishised, stigmatised, politicised, sexualised, mocked, and objectified. This occurs in a manner that’s insidious and pervasive, impacting our opportunities, relationships, security, autonomy, treatment, and safety (just to name a few things).
The minority stress model – a framework which describes how marginalised groups experience increased stress due to being othered, stigmatised, and discriminated against – helps explain these impacts. LGBTQIA+ people face chronic stress due to factors such as societal discrimination and prejudice, internalised shame/stigma, and social disconnection. For those who hold multiple marginalised identities, and/or whose bodies exist at multiple points of social exclusion, these effects are even more pronounced. This chronic stress results in poor physical and mental health outcomes, including body dissatisfaction. The need for safety and inclusion also means appearance ideals take on heightened significance, shaping access to things like healthcare, housing, education, social connection, and employment. For example, in professional settings, there persists an unspoken expectation that “professionalism” aligns with cis-hetero-normative aesthetics. Dress codes, hiring practices, workplace cultures, and the conflation of appearance ideals and competence reinforce this idea, making it even harder for those who don’t fit the mold to be treated fairly, seen as credible, or even considered. This links directly to employment status, financial security, housing security, and access to basic needs, and can force people into extremely vulnerable positions.
Appearance ideals, standards, and pressures also exist within the LGBTQIA+ community, as does related lateral discrimination. People might feel they need to look a certain way – such as “queer enough,” “trans enough,” “androgynous enough,” etc. – to be recognised and validated in the community and/or by broader society.
Queer subcultures hold stark expectations of what certain identities – bi, masc, femme, butch, nonbinary, pillow princess, otter, twink, bear, and more – look like, and these are heavily reinforced. Trans individuals are often held to extremely high beauty standards, expected to meet cis-normative ideals even more than cis people are; this pressure comes not just from cis community, but at times also from fellow trans people. The policing of queer bodies within queer spaces mirrors the same oppressive structures that LGBTQIA+ people are fighting against, and the way that different LGBTQIA+ identities are judged across a multitude of contexts shows just how heavily ingrained and impactful appearance ideals and expectations are.
Addressing appearance-based discrimination is not just an individual process; it requires collective, systemic change. Governments have a responsibility to invest in policies and programs that affirm and protect LGBTQIA+ individuals. LGBTQIA+ people need more access to affirming, anti-diet, weight-inclusive, intersectional, anti-oppressive support and care that acknowledges the specific impacts of appearance discrimination, sociocultural pressures, and systemic factors on LGBTQIA+ people’s well-being. Medical professionals must be educated on to how to provide competent, affirming, person-centred care that does not pathologise queer and trans identities, and that does not place weight restrictions on people seeking to access gender-affirming puberty blockers, hormones, or surgeries (the BMI is b*llshit, and there is no evidence that supports having weight cut-offs for gender-affirming medicine or surgery). Gender-affirming medical care needs to be covered under programs such as Medicare, and other national health insurance systems. There needs to be funding for peer support and accessible, safe, inclusive events/spaces, to facilitate connection and mitigate the harm caused by appearance/body-based discrimination, marginalisation, and isolation.
We also need greater education and awareness overall – through curriculum, programs, trainings, resources, and funding of research – that challenges such discrimination, and supports safety, representation, and inclusion, whatever the context.
There must be strong anti-discrimination policies that explicitly address appearance-based biases in employment, healthcare, and public spaces, ensuring that LGBTQIA+ individuals are not penalised for presenting authentically. Government support must go beyond surface-level funding; it must actively work to oppose and dismantle anti-LGBTQIA+ narratives, policies, and actions that perpetuate harm. Structural change is essential to ensuring that LGBTQIA+ individuals do not have to choose between authenticity and survival. We deserve a society where body diversity is normalised and embraced, our identities are affirmed, our safety is protected, and our right to exist without fear of discrimination is upheld.
Get support
For support with eating disorders or body image issues, connect with the Butterfly National Helpline for confidential and free support, by calling 1800 ED HOPE (1800 33 4673) or visit www.butterfly.org.au to chat online or email, 7 days a week, 8am-midnight AEDT.
For LGBTQIA+ specific support, connect with QLife Australia by calling 1800 184 527, 3pm-midnight, 7 days a week or visit www.qlife.org.au. Our friends at Minus 18 also have great resources for LGBTQIA+ youth.
About the author
Lumen Gorrie (they/them) is a queer (aro-ace), trans, Autistic, ADHD, chronically ill, disabled person, working as a clinical psychologist, speaker, and advocate in Naarm, on unceded Wurundjeri Land. They recognise that they hold immense privilege as a white, middle-class, educated person, which significantly influences how the world responds to them.
