Back at Dragon*Con 2009 a panel I was on was addressing LGBGQ characters in YA lit, and someone asked a question about whether the topic was just viewed as too sexualized by some audiences. I went on at some length about how being queer isn't just about sex. Another panelist (who is a gay man) objected, and went on at some length about how sex is a part of being queer and YA books should reflect that (but not more or less so than other YA books, was what I was trying to say!), and the whole thing left a bad taste in my mouth -- less about what anything anyone said, and more about the pre-constructed argument we were both flailing around in.
As a gay woman, I hate having to convince people I actually have sex: messy, dirty, filthy, sticky sex (when I am presenting in any sort of genderqueer way, it is less hard or "necessary" to convince people of this -- sex becomes "more real" again to some audiences when a butch/femme dynamic seems to be present).
As a gay person, I hate having to convince people that how I fuck doesn't define me any more than it defines a non-gay person. And ultimately, I loathe being trapped between these two arguments, which, when you add traditional gender expectations and what happened at this panel on top of it, implies to the eyes of most viewers that women are squeamish about sex and aren't that into it, and men are just about pounding whatever they can (Dan Savage rightly notes in the piece that many arguments against gay marriage ultimately revert to discussions of anal sex. Do the lesbians of the world need to stand up and note that some of us like to have anal sex too?).
I hate this stuff. And I hate that even if we're not bought into it, we're still engaged in it.