I identify as a queer, bisexual, gender-fluid member of the Sikh community. This means I am part of the LGBTQI+ community, not romantically attracted to just one gender and don’t identify exclusively as either male or female. To some, it may seem confusing to identify both as queer and Sikh, and people may even be opposed to such a person, but as a queer Sikh, my mere existence not only contradicts ideas of heteronormativity within the Sikh community but also reinforces the need to illuminate the fear and homophobia that is so prevalent and accepted in a proportion of the Sikh community, especially among the older generations.
Having lived most of my life in hiding, as many queer Sikhs do, I was once unaware of the oppression other queer and transgender people face. Through discovering my place in the LGBTQI+ community in alignment with my spiritual beliefs, it has meant liberation for me. I no longer wish to maintain a duality in my personality, and I choose to live truthfully for myself and no longer only act and behave as I am expected to according to my family’s perception of what Sikhi should be for a formerly female-identifying individual, while being queer and believing in equality for all individuals This is a core pillar of the Sikh teachings. I wish to empower those who may be questioning their sexuality in conjunction with religion and share my journey and experience on how I came to terms with this myself.
Growing up and being raised as female, my behavior and actions didn’t always align with what was expected of a little girl. I would often push away dolls and play with cars and trucks instead and preferred traditionally what would be considered to be boys' clothes rather than girls' clothes. I was loud and boisterous, often being told that I should have been a boy instead, and for the most part, as a child, I agreed. Whether this was related to gender-bias and preference for males in Punjabi culture or my family commenting on my personality through comparison of gender stereotypes, these were the first instances of me questioning my gender and the gender divide within the Sikh and Punjabi community. In later years, my desire to act in any way “boyish” was quashed by me being shamed, especially by the male members of my family, which caused a lot of dysphoria and feelings of rejection for me. It took me many years after this to recognize that I possess both traditionally male and traditionally female qualities, and realizing that I didn’t want to be limited or defined by this binary gender complex, so I began identifying as gender fluid.
It took me more time, struggle, and denial of my own sexuality to finally accept myself as bisexual. Up until this point, I had completely rejected the notion of a loving relationship between any couple, whether they were straight or queer, the idea of love itself to me was non-existent. In learning to love myself again, I began to move past the internalized homophobia I had, and during my time in college, I met new people and friends who were comfortable in expressing their sexuality, something I’d previously associated with shame.
I began questioning who I was as a person, especially during my gap year before university, in which I felt very isolated and truly began to understand what it meant to be lonely and without a support network. However, it was a time of self-reflection, and I developed into a much more open-minded and accepting person. By the time I left home for university, I was excited to be exposed to completely new experiences and the ability to express myself as an individual, away from my family’s values, which was important to me, because I had felt so shackled to associate with a culture that I didn’t believe was morally correct in some aspects or in agreement with what it means to be a Sikh. The distinctions between what it meant to be Punjabi and what it meant to be Sikh became very apparent, in which ideas related to acceptance in Sikhi were contradicted by the backlash from the Punjabi community around me. It was clear that from the sexism and homophobia so openly expressed in my family, that I would be considered delusional for confiding in them. Being introduced to a whole culture surrounding queerness, different opinions, the ability to think freely about my likes and dislikes, and exploring what the LGBTQI+ community had to offer, finally made me understand that love isn’t explicit and exclusive between a man and a woman. This was the catalyst that led me to come out to my best friends in my first year of university and become empowered to navigate the world by living my own truth.
But I am still the only Sikh queer person I know, which is why it has been so important to me to build a great support network of queer religious friends and allies.
Gurmukẖ ek ḏarisat kar ḏekẖhu gẖat gẖat joṯ samo▫ī jī▫o. ||2||
As Gurmukh, look upon all with the single eye of equality; in each and every heart, the Divine Light is contained.
Guru Nanak Dev, Raag Sorath, Ank 598 of Sri Guru Granth Sahib.
I am now in my fourth year of university and continuously building on what it means to be spiritual alongside being queer. As a queer person, you never stop coming out to people, and everyone I trust to tell has been loving and understanding. However, I have not felt comfortable enough to come out to the majority of my family.
Despite my experiences, this isn’t the case for everyone, so I would advise only coming out if you are safe and comfortable within that environment. Many believe being queer is a choice, but I always think that it’s not a matter of choosing to be queer but choosing to accept yourself. I never intend to express myself as something that I’m not and that choice is liberating for me. I am valid the way I am, as is anyone who is queer or doubting themselves. I admit to struggling to accept Sikhi for a while after fully realising myself, due to misconception and disbelief of what Sikhi had to offer and what I had been told by certain members of the Sangat, but the messages of equality in Sikhi have kept me faithful.
ਮਾਟੀ ਏਕ ਅਨੇਕ ਭਾਂਤਿ ਕਰਿ ਸਾਜੀ ਸਾਜਨਹਾਰੈ ॥ਨਾ ਕਛੁ ਪੋਚ ਮਾਟੀ ਕੇ ਭਾਂਡੇ ਨਾ ਕਛੁ ਪੋਚ ਕੁੰਭਾਰੈ ॥੨॥
Mātī ek anek bẖāʼnṯ kar sājī sājanhārai. Nā kacẖẖ pocẖ mātī ke bẖāʼnde nā kacẖẖ pocẖ kumbẖārai. ||2||
From one clay has the Creator made countless shapes, sizes and colours. Neither are the vessels badly made or does the Creator lack any skill.
Bhagat Kabir, Raag Parbhati, Ank 1349 of Sri Guru Granth Sahib.
Under Waheguru’s command, I am queer and deserve the same right of respect equal to any human being, as Waheguru created everyone as equal under their command. Nobody has a right to judge you as you have done nothing wrong. Your existence isn’t up for debate and the stereotypes around queer people being lustful, criminal and sinful are untrue. I’m here to say that these stereotypes don’t define your right to live a full, spiritual and free life. Being queer doesn’t deny your right to have a family, and to those who are uncertain and afraid, your voice is not unheard, you are among a network of like-minded people.
The truth always prevails, and love always wins.
About the Author
Harpreet Kaur
Harpreet Kaur identifies as a queer, bisexual, gender fluid person in the Sikh Community. She loves to cook, sketch and explore nature on their trusty bike. Their preferred pronouns are she/they and she is currently studying for their Masters in Chemistry at university.