How women’s sport is a paradox for the LGBTQ community

When I was 12 years old my mum said to me: “Never be afraid to be different.” She was talking about dancing at a school disco, but those six words had an instant impact on me. Why? Because I felt different to other girls.

For a start, I played sport and I loved it. But as a girl, being good at sport automatically made me a “tomboy”. Tomboy by definition is, “a young girl who enjoys activities and games that are traditionally considered to be for boys”. Looking back it amazes me that gender stereotyping is a problem from such a young age. The idea that sport is for boys is still unconsciously encouraged by society, schools and parents.

Starting secondary school, tomboy suddenly became “lesbian”. Wanting to wear a pair of Adidas poppers to “no uniform” day at school made me a lesbian. Having a haircut like Phil Neville made me a lesbian. Wanting to watch and play sport with the boys, wanting to grow muscles so I could be better at sport, all added up to me being called a lesbian.

My experiences coincided with the introduction of Section 28, controversial legislation that banned the promotion of homosexuality in British schools, making it illegal for teachers to even discuss the possibility of same sex relationships. I started school the year after the law came in, and as a result we had no education about sexuality. The only thing we knew about the word lesbian was that it was used as a weapon to humiliate or offend girls who didn’t fit the norm – ugly, strange, sporty or muscly. When I was called a lesbian I denied it, rejected it with disgust. Shamefully I used it against other girls, too, because it was the ultimate insult.

As far as society was concerned, sport = lesbian, lesbian = different, different = something you don’t want to be.

The stereotypes were designed to put women off playing sport. Sporty women were not really women, in the same way that lesbians weren’t seen as proper women either. Lou Englefield, the director of Pride Sport and campaign director of FootballvHomophobia, confirms that this matches her own experiences of coaching girls in football. “I saw on many occasions teenage girls being called names by teenage boys: ‘Oh you’re a man because you want to play football’. Words like manly and butch were thrown around. The policing of gender and policing of women happens from a really young age. And in reality the reason girls gave up football was because of gender stereotypes. They didn’t want to be seen as butch or athletic or masculine because they wanted boys to fancy them.”

And there were simply no visible role models to challenge this lazy stereotyping. I didn’t know any lesbians when I was growing up, the internet was in its infancy then, and I certainly never saw any on TV.

So imagine my horror when I realised at the age of 14 that I was actually in fact ... a lesbian. Yep I really fancied girls and I played sport. I had become the one thing no one wanted to be.

Playing sport did not make me feel any more comfortable in admitting to myself and others that I was gay. Sport was a paradox. While I was desperate to play hockey for my country, playing meant I was carrying the stereotype of something dubbed so dirty. The thing I loved most in the world felt like the ugliest label in the world.

West Ham captain Gilly Flaherty said in her recent interviews that dealing with the fact she was gay and not knowing how to handle it played a role in her attempted suicide at 17 years old. It would take me until the age of 22 to finally come out to my mum. That’s roughly eight years of my life spent continuously lying to the closest people to me. It took another decade to be fully comfortable with my sexuality. As former Wales rugby star Gareth Thomas said: “I’m not sure if it was because I was gay that I felt such depression, it was just that I was lying to everyone.”

The reality is that society has attached so many stereotypes to sport that for LGBTQ and straight women it makes it frankly impossible to play without carrying some sort of prejudice with it. Yes, compared to men’s sport we are light years ahead in terms of the acceptance of sexuality, but in women’s sport we still don’t do enough to push back against the stereotypes forced on us. We might exist as lesbians, as queer, bisexual and trans women within our sports but I know that within some locker rooms and teams we are not as welcome as we think we are. Just like the school playground, the locker room isn’t exempt from prejudice.

As a result there is still a nervousness around being perceived as gay.

I’ve heard stories of gay and straight sportswomen alike going out of their way to avoid looking like the stereotype of what a lesbian sportsperson “looks” like. Dodging gym sessions to avoid developing their musculature.

Well, to be frank, we all need to start growing up a bit. The word lesbian isn’t offensive; being offended by the word is.

Thankfully, things are changing. When England women’s football captain Casey Stoney came out in 2014 it was a landmark moment. While her sexuality was not a secret in the footballing community, as the most high-profile footballer in the UK to come out it was a huge step for her to take. “I was frightened of the stereotypes,” she said at the time, “frightened of being judged, frightened of what other people might say.” Those words resonated with me.

Great Britain hockey stars Kate and Helen Richardson-Walsh becoming the first same sex married couple to win an Olympic gold at the 2016 Rio Olympic Games was another huge moment. I loved the how they spoke about their relationship, as both team-mates and partners, it was amazing to see those interviews across mainstream media outlets and it had a seismic effect in helping to normalise the idea of a same-sex marriage in modern-day Britain.

Trolls aside, social media platforms have helped educate and promote positive messages about the LGBT community. I regularly see top gay female athletes – from Billie Jean King and Llana Kloss, to Caster Semenya and her wife Violet Raseboya – share their daily life with their fans, which includes talking about and sharing their relationships. For the young people following their sporting idols they will see what I never did: women of all different shapes, sizes, races and religions being completely at ease with their sexuality.

Sport should be about representing all different types of women no matter their sexuality, or how they present themselves. It should not be about who you are in a relationship with or what you look like. Ultimately the only thing you should be judged on is your sporting performance and whether you are a good team-mate.

It’s time to rip up the rule book of gender norms and use sport as a vehicle to break down the barriers around femininity and sexuality. Let’s unshackle ourselves from a past which didn’t want us to succeed.

And to every little girl and boy out there, as my mum once told me: “Don’t be afraid to be different; be afraid to be the same.”