Understanding what it’s like to be LGBT+ is hard. So is understanding what it is like to be heterosexual, but trying to learn is a good start in revealing what makes us so engrossed in people’s romances. Sexuality is a complex spectrum that no one person could ever accurately draw and it is not my intention to try and do so. Nevertheless, James Casey picks three principles to follow in an amazingly concise, humoured explainer of ‘how not be homophobic’:

Keeping in mind those three traits of sexuality — its complexity, fluidity and individuality — will probably help you avoid a lot of awkward conversations with people on a topic you’re hopelessly and self-consciously ignorant about. Their sexuality is their business; don’t assume you can gauge their interests from it, don’t impose a single sexual identity onto each individual you meet, and don’t make everything worse by putting people into neat, rainbow-ribboned boxes, because you, as a straight person, are in no position to do so.

Most people see gender and sexual orientation as binary, which leads to the stereotypes, but I challenge you to find one straight person without a same-sex crush, celebrity or otherwise. Once we break free from that simplistic view, and realise that everyone is not specifically gay or straight and may fluidly move between them, it becomes easier to empathise.

I understand why there may be confusion here. As a consequence of defining sexuality as something that can change, there is a risk of portraying it as a choice. Many compare gay rights to race rights, which is an easy way of clarifying that we are born with our sexual orientation although what that simile fails to illustrate, is that changing preferences are out of our control too. It is a vexing concept to decipher, so no wonder confused, deluded and unintentional homophobia is built into so many of our subconsciouses.

Owen Jones, one of my journalistic idols, calls homophobia “doomed” in a brutally informative article about just that, our subconscious:

British students who were asked to imagine borrowing a phone from a gay man came up with significantly more words about cleansing in a word-completion task. In another study, Portuguese students were offered either a yellow pencil or yellow disinfecting wipe after the experiment; those who imagined borrowing a phone from a gay man were more likely to choose the wipe… …But actually the findings intrigued me, because prejudice can only be washed away (if you will) when it is understood.

He more optimistically concludes:

A society free of sexism and homophobia won’t just emancipate women and gay men: it will free straight men, too.

Clearly, studying sexuality is an intricate craft, and we are inadvertently entangled in its convoluted controversy. We are trapped. We are in a dark box of our own misunderstandings, and are too busy looking for a key the that we ignore the unlocked door. We can’t escape until we stop paying attention to what doesn’t matter. We are slowing progress by trying to progress.

How do we stop ourselves? By ignoring it. Maybe we should be defining people how they define themselves. What is someone passionate about? What is important to them? If the answer is food, think of them as a chef; if the answer is family, look on them as a parent; if the answer is sport, they are an athlete. If they want being LGBT+ to determine who they are, then it is fine to care. If not, it is irrelevant.

I asked at the beginning what is ‘important’ when you meet a person. That question was intentionally misguided and I am sure your answer was too. Because the key to shaking our instinctive homophobia is to forget what is important and concentrate on what is relevant.