This kind of post has been done before and a thousand times more on Youtube, but because I felt like it here is just a little collection of the voice actors of the Homeworld Gems we’ve seen so far and the Off Color gems singing/talking.
I unfortunately was not able to find any videos of Jasper, Aquamarine, Topaz or Rhodonite’s voice actors singing, so instead I provided links of them talking.
Here’s the thing about the Ramona Blue controversy: when I told people that I was dating a guy (after being and “out and proud lesbian” for 10 years), I was scared. Honestly, I found it harder than coming out as gay (because I am privileged enough to live in a very accepting environment, and because I had this “If you don’t like it, fuck you” confidence behind it when I came out as gay). It was nerve-wracking to have to come out again and feel like I had to explain every nuance of my emotional and sexual feelings, because people had no representation of an identity like mine. I wasn’t scared of physical harm. I wasn’t scared of losing my family. I had that privilege! But I was scared of losing my community and my identity.
When I came out to most of the people I knew, the reaction was shock. And laughter—almost everyone asked if I was joking. And confusion. And I expected that. What I didn’t expect was the reaction from my gay friends.
I choose my friends carefully, and I knew that my gay friends weren’t going to judge me, because they’re awesome. But I had two reactions from them I didn’t expect:
1) “I have worried before about what would happen if I was attracted to another gender.” I was surprised to find that my other gay and lesbian friends had thought about this threat to their identity themselves. Had thought about how difficult it would be to come out again. Whether their sexuality would be respected. These are people who are “out and proud”. Who have accepting friends and family. But they’ve worried. They’ve been scared of falling in love with the wrong person. Worried that if they unexpectedly fell for someone of another gender, that it would be an identity crisis. I shouldn’t have been surprised–before I fell for my partner, I had worried about it myself. What if I became interested in a guy? How would people react? How could I come out to everyone again? Where would I fit in the community I have devoted so much time to? Would I be seen as a betrayer of the cause, somehow?
2) “Oh, yeah, that happened to a friend of mine.” The other reaction I got from my in real life gay friends was recognition: they knew other lesbians who had ended up with men. Or, sorry, people who had identified as lesbians until they ended up with a guy. A woman who called herself a “one-man lesbian”. Women who were attracted to women 99% of the time, or all of the time with the exception of one dude. They were pretty blase, these friends. It’s not that uncommon, they told me.
And then I read Sexual Fluidity by Lisa Diamond, which described the same thing. Women who called themselves lesbians for many years, who ended up with a guy. Or who occasionally slept with men. Most then dropped the label of lesbian. Some didn’t.
But what stuck with me, more than the sheer relief of I am not alone was Diamond’s recounting of her events. How she’d talked about sexual fluidity in queer spaces and had people line up afterwards to say “Oh my god, this has happened to other people?? I’m not alone?” Who talked about how they felt like freaks. Who talked about how their family or friends had experienced sexual fluidity and how they didn’t know how to deal with it. People who felt like betrayers. Like frauds. Like fakers. Like the wrong kind of queer. People who felt like they couldn’t trust their own emotions or attractions, because they didn’t fit into the traditional narrative.
So what was the takeaway?
1) Sexual fluidity is not unusual. It is not that unusual for a woman to identify as a lesbian and later date or sleep with a dude. Sorry! I know that’s not the narrative, that’s not the story we want to tell, but that is the literal truth. It happens.
2) People are unaware of this, and they feel like freaks when it happens to them. We have almost no representation of sexual fluidity.
3) We need more depictions of a diversity of sexual and romantic identities and experiences so people don’t feel alone and wrong and broken when they experience anything other than “this is my label, this is who I have always been since I was born and this is who I will always be.” Some people always know! That’s awesome! Some people’s sexual or romantic identity never changes! That’s awesome! But some people have different journeys, and some people’s attractions and identities shift, and they don’t deserve to feel like freaks or like they’ve betrayed the cause because of who they are romantically and sexually attracted to. It’s cruel to sacrifice those people just because they are inconvenient to the narrative you want to tell.