Pants and white sneakers, both H&M. Shirt and rings, model's own. Picture by Alisa Zaira Reznick. All rights reserved. This article is published in collaboration with MyKali
Photographed by Alisa Zaira Reznick Make-up by Sara ArarStyled by Fadi ZumotCreative directed by Khalid Abdel-HadiModeled by Elshab elauthentic (check full shoot here)Amman - Jordan
Queer personas not encouraged. It’s a trend that some say is becoming increasingly apparent in Jordan, where a homogenous masculinity is diluting the diversity of the gay community as more and more men aspire to fulfil a gendered ideal. “People are changing to fit in,” says Khalid Abdel-Hadi, creative director of My Kali magazine. “I see it on my social media feeds all the time. Men adopting overtly masculine poses when I know they have a feminine side.”
Ayman Y*, a writer focusing on gender issues in Jordan, says there is an “epidemic” on the apps of the ‘straight-looking’ ‘straight-acting’ demand. He sees it as a self-hating mechanism within the LGBT+ community, “as if being straight is the idealistic ‘normal’ situation.” The phrase ‘no fems’ has also become familiar: “The issue here is that there is no awareness of the distinction between definitions of gender and sexual orientation. They say they only want a straight-acting, non-feminine guy, but why is the word straight associated with masculinity?”
Fear of the feminine
Exaggerated masculinity is also a form of self-preservation. In a society that collates womanhood with weakness and concentrates power overwhelmingly in the masculine space, there’s little scope for building a strong identity on female traits. “Any feminine expression is more likely to be looked down upon than any masculine expression,” Ayman says, pointing to the inferior status of women in Jordan.
It’s not just men that benefit from quelling any ladylike qualities. “Sadly, acting in a feminine way in public is unsafe for both men and women,” says Fadi Zaghmout, a well-known blogger, novelist and campaigner for sexual freedom. “With sexual harassment of women widespread, the less they flaunt their feminine attributes, the safer they are,” he says.
Men, meanwhile, are expected to maintain a macho authority befitting their superior social status. “This overly masculine culture swallowed the natural balance of masculinity and femininity that is needed in any healthy society,” says Zaghmout, pointing to the pressure placed on Jordanian men to fulfil a hyper-masculine ideal. “Feminine gay men challenge this shallow understanding of gender and make people feel uncomfortable,” he adds.
The gay community perpetuates this prejudice internally with terminology designed to derogate those who fall outside gendered ideals. A gay man with an effeminate air or flamboyant mode of dress is derided as خالصة or khalsah (over the top), referred to as إنتِ or ‘inti’ (the feminine form for you) and accused of being a بوتمة or ‘bottom’ in bed. “Using feminine language in the gay community is for two reasons; either to be funny or to shame another person, we don’t use it to celebrate female identity,” says Abdul-Hadi, an openly homosexual male.
