Feeling “Queer Enough”: Finding Authentic Pleasure as a Queer Person

I work with many queer clients who are untangling the pressures, expectations, and internalized shame that surround sex. Over and over, I’ve seen that sex is about much more than sex—it’s about belonging, survival, and the subtle rules around what it means to be “queer enough.”

Many in the LGBTQ+ community experience this as queer imposter syndrome, a quiet but painful feeling of not being queer enough to belong. It often fuels comparison, shame, and disconnection from authentic desire.

While breaking free from heteronormative expectations brings real liberation, queer culture can also create its own scripts—ideas about what “liberated” sex or relationships should look like. I’ve seen so many clients wrestle with feeling “too vanilla,” “too conventional,” or “too straight-passing.”

This post explores those invisible scripts—where they come from, how they show up, and what it means to break free. Not to perfect queerness, but to come home to your own body and truth.

Queer connection isn’t about performing identity — it’s about being seen, safe, and fully yourself.

What Are Sexual Scripts?

Sexual scripts are the social rules and internalized blueprints that tell us what sex is supposed to be like. As sociologist William Simon explained in his landmark work Sexual Conduct, sexual scripts shape how culture teaches us to understand desire, power, and pleasure.

They shape our expectations around:

• Who initiates

• What sex “should” include

• What kinds of pleasure are valid

• What roles we’re expected to perform (top/bottom, dom/sub, etc.)

These scripts often start in childhood—through media, religion, family systems, or early sexual experiences—and evolve as we move through our identities.

For queer people, the tension is doubled. Many queer folks grow up being told that your desire is wrong or invisible. Then, when they enter queer spaces, there’s a new set of pressures to contend with—ones that promise liberation but can quietly enforce new norms.

Queer Scripts That Keep Showing Up in Therapy

Here are a few of the cultural scripts I see queer clients carry—whether or not they actually believe them:

1. “You have to be friends with your exes.”

In some queer communities there’s an unspoken pressure to maintain emotional intimacy with former partners as proof of being evolved or inclusive. But staying close to someone who hurt you or with whom you’re still grieving isn’t required. You’re allowed to have boundaries—and having boundaries doesn’t make you less queer.

2. “You have to want lots of sex with lots of different people.”

This is common—especially in gay communities—but it also appears in other queer spaces. The emphasis on high sex-drive + openness can lead folks to override boundaries, say yes when they want to say no, or feel shame if their desire is slower or more intimate. But desire isn’t a performance. It’s personal. Tenderness is valid.

3. “You have to be in an open relationship.”

Non-monogamy is beautiful—and also not for everyone. There’s sometimes a quiet judgment in queer spaces that equates monogamy with internalized heteronormativity or emotional immaturity. But relationship structure should be about fit, not status. If you’re in a closed relationship that honors your needs, that’s not a failure. It’s alignment.

4. “If you want to be affirmed, you should want sex that affirms your gender.”

This script shows up especially in trans communities, but can impact anyone whose sexual preferences don’t match gender-expectation norms. For example: a trans man feeling he should enjoy penetrative sex to “prove” masculinity, or a trans woman feeling invalidated if she wants to top or enjoy genital stimulation. But affirmation isn’t about performing your gender through sex—it’s about being met, seen, and cared for—however that looks for you.

5. “You need to know exactly who you are and what you like.”

Queer culture often values clarity—about roles, orientation, preferences, kinks. But not everyone knows. Being queer doesn’t mean you fit neatly into one script. Indeed, exploring what you don’t yet fully know can be part of the journey. And yes: you might still be figuring things out—and that’s okay.

The Cost of Chasing “Queer Enoughness”

These scripts don’t exist in a vacuum. They reflect a long history of survival in hostile systems—where being palatable, desirable, or “good at sex” could be a route to safety or acceptance. It makes sense.

But when you’re constantly measuring your erotic life against what it’s supposed to look like, you lose contact with your own body. You may find yourself:

• Saying yes when your body says no

• Feeling numb during sex but not knowing how to stop

• Mistaking performance for connection

• Having sex to maintain belonging, not intimacy

Sex becomes something you do, not something you feel.

An abstract depiction of liberation from culturally mandated sexual scripts.

Reclaiming Erotic Truth: Some Queer-Affirming Practices

Therapy is one place to explore your authentic erotic self. But you don’t need to be in therapy to start shifting. Here are some practices I’ve seen help queer clients return to themselves:

1. Get Curious About Where Your Scripts Came From

What did you learn about sex growing up?
What did you learn from your first queer experiences?
What do you assume everyone else wants or expects?

Mapping these out with curiosity—not shame—can help you start noticing where someone else’s story is living in your body.

2. Try Erotic Mapping or Somatic Awareness Practices

Instead of focusing on what you “should” like, start asking:
What actually feels good to me?

You can do this alone or with a partner by slowly exploring different kinds of touch, sensation, and rhythm—without any agenda. Sensate focus exercises (from sex therapy) can be powerful here. These help you tune into feeling rather than performing, reestablishing a connection between sensation and choice.

3. Let Go of the Need to Be “Good” at Sex

This one is especially hard for high-achievers, trauma survivors, and those from marginalized identities. Being “good” at sex can feel like a way to earn love or safety. But you don’t have to perform worthiness.

Sex doesn’t have to be dazzling. It can be slow, quiet, silly, clumsy, or full of pauses. The more space you allow for realness, the more permission you give your body to actually arrive.

4. Uncouple Sex and Belonging

This is especially important if community and intimacy are deeply entwined for you.

You are still queer enough if you:

• Don’t want sex right now

• Are in a monogamous relationship

• Don’t stay friends with your exes

• Aren’t sure what kind of sex you want

• Say no without explanation

Your worth doesn’t hinge on how queer your erotic life looks. You don’t need to perform queerness to deserve your place.

A Disclaimer

What I offer in the therapy room—and what I hope this piece offers—is not authority, but attunement. My intention here is to provide relief and affirmation for those who quietly feel like their not ‘queer enough’–not to criticize the queer community. We all make norms and expectations when we’re in groups–and this process is accelerated when that community is marginalized. I witness queer clients navigating these pressures with nuance, grief, and immense strength. I see the ways cultural scripts—both heteronormative and queer-normative—get lodged in the nervous system.

And I believe you deserve an erotic life that is not dictated by fear or expectation, but shaped by your own curiosity, agency, and care.

What Queer Erotic Liberation Can Look Like

True liberation isn’t about being more queer, more open, more sexual. It’s about being more you. It’s about having the freedom to say:

• This is what I want.

• This is what I don’t want.

• I’m still figuring it out.

• I want to go slower.

• I want to try something new.

That’s queerness too: fluid, evolving, human.

For more ideas on navigating insecurity around your queerness, Anya Crittenton has some great ideas in “Am I Queer Enough?”: How to Navigate Queer Imposter Syndrome.

Therapy That Honors Your Erotic Self

I offer queer-affirming, body-based sex therapy that supports clients in unlearning scripts and reclaiming their own erotic truth.

Whether you’re healing from trauma, navigating desire changes, exploring identity, or simply wanting to feel more present during intimacy—this space is for you.

Learn more about queer-allied Sex Therapy at Aster Psychotherapy.