Live, Laugh, Lesbian

COLUMN | ISSUE TWO | WAIRUATANGA / SPIRITUALITY

Written by The Hot Lesbian she/they | @hot_lesbian_initiative

I’ve always had a complicated relationship with religion. When I was younger, I saw no issue with my somewhat religious upbringing. But as I grew older, the shadows became harder to ignore. As a lesbian, I carried an internal battle with internalised homophobia, something that is hard to unlearn in spaces that quietly (or loudly) tell you that you are wrong.

I think that’s why visibility feels so important to me, even in the smallest ways. Sometimes it’s just about existing. There’s something deeply reassuring about knowing you’re not the only one. Especially in spaces like a university, where so many of us are figuring out who we are in real time.

Being takatāpui adds another layer to that relationship with religion and spirituality. In much of my Māori whānau, religious beliefs sit alongside te ao Māori. It’s a blend that exists in many of our whare. When my older cuzzy came out, it was very hush-hush. Prime gossip material for the whole whānau. So when it was my turn? Let’s just say nothing gets past the aunties. The news spread like wildfire before I even had the chance to speak out on my own terms. That hurt. 

Six or seven years later, things are better. They like my partner. I think it helps that she’s Māori, funnily enough. My nan especially loves that she can kōrero Māori with her. I’ve learned that shared language builds bridges in ways that disagreements never could.

But I’ve been told by other whānau that even if the aunties are nice to our faces, some still hold their religious beliefs against homosexuality. But yeah, apparently rumour has it that they’ve been caught saying ‘it's just a phase.’ Ummm, a phase… idk I’m pretty committed to the Gay Agenda. Pre-coming out, my fave statement said to my face was, “God will still love you if you’re lesbian.” Damn, that’s wild, because apparently they clocked me before I did.

When I think about the rangatahi in my whānau (who are, respectfully, quite fruity), I feel like maybe it’s worth being the one who helps normalise it and adjust the aunties to the gays. We soften edges while quietly challenging what people think they know. Doesn’t change the fact that it still stings for both my partner and me. We’re out here doing the hard māhi. Changing hearts. Changing minds.

Then there’s my partner’s whānau. Māori, but not religious. When she came out, they said, “That’s good, bub.” That was it. Like that's so cute! Her dad regularly takes us out to dinner and the movies. Honestly, icon behaviour. Just a tradie dad taking his gay daughter and her partner out for a feed. 

Experiences like that show that homophobic views weren’t always inherent in us. They were introduced. Colonisation didn’t just take land; it imposed belief systems, including rigid ideas about gender and sexuality. Diverse identities have always existed across cultures. In ancient Greece, relationships between women were written about by Sappho from the island of Lesbos (ugh, take me there). Which is literally where the words “lesbian” and “sapphic” come from. 

Still, religion continues to feel exclusive to me. I’ve had people approach me to join church groups. The vibes are friendly until I ask about queer people. Then it gets awkward. I’ve been told they “accept” gay people, but that we’re sinners because we’re lying about who we are. That’s the part that makes me hōhā. I can’t even dip my toes in without being told my identity is deception.

So yeah. Moral of the story, religion isn’t for me.

Stepping away from the idea of organised religion pushed me to find my wairuatanga elsewhere. Being Māori means I was never disconnected from spirituality, just from a particular version of it. I feel most grounded when creating art. Through the making methods of my practice, I activate elements of our atua and the mātauranga of my tīpuna. I also feel spiritually grounded in who I am. Lesbian love is emotional and definitely spiritual. If life feels empty, convert to lesbianism today!   

At university, where life is fast and overwhelming, that grounding matters. It's rough when assignments pile up, when identity feels heavy, and you’re trying to balance who you are at home vs who you are on campus. Remind yourself that returning to whenua, art, and creativity is stabilising.

My nan reminded me that music and art are spiritual too. Creation itself is interwoven with wairuatanga. When we make something, a painting, a song, a poem, even this piece, we are connecting. To ourselves, others, and our tīpuna who came before us.

That reminder shifted something for me. Spirituality doesn’t have to mean religion. It doesn’t have to sit inside a church building. Even someone who calls themselves an atheist still has things that move and ground them in life. 

I think the heavy connotations attached to the word “spirituality” have done harm. They’ve made people feel excluded from something that is actually deeply personal and expansive. Your spirituality is what speaks to your wairua. It’s what brings you joy and reminds you that you are alive and connected.

This is just my own experience. But take it from a Hot Lesbian if there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s this: you are allowed to define your own spirituality. Especially in a university space where so many identities intersect and evolve. Allow yourself to question and build something new.

Your wairua belongs to you.

Live, laugh, love,

The Hot Lesbian xx