Young Queer Boys & Female Pop Stars: A Relationship That Transcends Generations and Isolation

It was 2009. I was 6 years old sitting in the backseat of my parents’ car. We were driving in the car on the freeway, and all of a sudden I heard a sound. ‘Mum mum mum mah’ filled the space around me while I was traveling 70 miles per hour. I heard the sound a few more times and then the lyric ‘I wanna hold ‘em like they do in Texas, please’ captivated my attention. 13 years ago I was being turned into a Little Monster, and am still one to this day. 

Lady Gaga’s “Poker Face” Music Video on behalf of Sony Music Entertainment

Me singing “Poker Face” by Lady Gaga on the freeway, while passing through the city of Santa Clarita, is something I always go back to in my head. Maybe it’s because it is the first time I remember being excited about music? Or maybe it’s because I knew the icon, legend, and mother of all slays Lady Gaga would eventually become by the time I was 19 years old. I knew just at 6 years old I had a connection with her, but I could not put into words why or how—and I wouldn’t actually know until I was 18 years old.

I am a man who likes other men, if it wasn’t obvious by the opening anecdote, and since I was 8 years old I think I knew those feelings rang true. Honestly all I remember from that period of my life was having a crush on the actor who played Max on Wizards of Waverly Place. As the years went on, those feelings only grew stronger, but they were also kept to myself. People speculated, but I did not actually tell anyone about me being gay until 2 days after my high school graduation when I told my group of friends. I still remember the date in my head: June 11. 

I felt restricted. Those levels of restriction loosened up as I got older, but at one time or another: my mind, eyes, hand, and tongue were all trapped by my own doing. I felt isolated, as if I was trapped in a room I repeatedly tried to escape from but kept getting the code wrong. 

Some remarkable musicians helped me while I was trapped in that room: Taylor Swift, Britney Spears, Avril Lavigne, Lady Gaga, Lorde, Lana Del Rey, Katy Perry, and Adele. All of these women have at least one song you probably know the chorus of. They are pop legends, and if you’re part of Gen Z, then they probably dominated the radio in the 2010s. Or maybe they held a bigger role in your life than just listening to them in passing? For me these were the musicians I found comfort and solace in. When I was busy thinking of the fact I would only hang out with the girls at recess, while the rest of the boys would hang out with each other, I would find joy in these pop icons’ music. They brought me peace and a place to reside, without actually having to confront myself.

Photo of Beyonce via Getty Images

Gen Z was not the first generation to have young queer boys like me find comfort in female pop stars. You had Judy Garland in the 1940s, who brought much needed relief to a world dealing with the aftermath of a cruel war. Janis Joplin, Aretha Franklin, and Diana Ross in the 1960s, who started the trend of women in Hollywood breaking the mold of the perfect straight white woman star. Cher and Barbra Streisand in the 1970s, who each sprung their own musicality and vision into a rapidly growing relaxation of society. Madonna, Janet Jackson, and Whitney Houston in the 1980s, whose impact on the mainstream spread of dance-pop can not be stressed enough, even 40 years later. Mariah Carey, Alanis Morissette, Gwen Stefani, Selena, and Shania Twain, whose lyricism and defiance created a place for future women to speak their mind and stories in music. Beyonce, Christina Aguilera, and Amy Winehouse in the 2000s, whose voices can make an angel weap out of mesmerization. Ariana Grande, Rihanna, and Nicki Minaj in the 2010s, whose vocal/rap delivery about their lived experiences empower numerous people. And now Billie Eilish, Olivia Rodrigo, Megan Thee Stallion, Dua Lipa, and Doja Cat in the 2020s, who are all taking inspiration from past decades and creating a Gen Z voice that speaks their mind in creative ways.

All of these women, along with the ones I named before, were names everyone knew from that decade, and, most likely, still know now. They made pop music, which is basically short for popular music. Obviously a number of these artists took from various genres, such as rock, hip-hop, R&B, etc. but they were popular for a reason. These artists were relatable, whether that be the persona they held, the lyrics they wrote, or the way they were viewed in the press. People found themselves in these women. One particular group who found comfort in these pop stars throughout the decades: queer men, or rather young boys who, like me, did not know why they had feelings for other boys growing up. Having the realization a decade later that you probably liked that one boy in elementary school because you would always want to sit next to him in class certainly does hold a lot of weight. 

Art by Sarvla Bao

I remember wanting to disguise myself from this thing I felt everyone could tell I had. I thought they knew I didn’t have a close male friend in my life, and the assumptions my young self created for them to have were enough to bury the feelings deeper. I just wanted to feel joy. The type of joy everyone else seemed to have, but I didn’t. I thought I had to force myself to go hang out with other boys who I didn’t feel myself around. I remember sometimes looking over at them and thinking of myself over there with them. I would walk and they would do something. My childhood mind was already scared by that point and didn’t think of what they would do. I also wanted to be well liked by everyone because in my head, if I was liked by everyone, then they would forget to think about the part of me that was different. They would not wonder why I was the only boy in a class of 25 students who didn’t sit with the other boys. They would not think to ask why I liked watching Shake It Up, when only “girls” watched that kind of show. They would not have these things in their mind if I was polite, got good grades, and behaved. And that’s what I did.

Photo of a high school football game by Brent Milam via The Daily News Journal

Pop music is the same. The reason why so many young queer boys gravitate towards women in pop music is because pop music, at its core, is supposed to be well received and have some aspect of joy. Whether that joy be coming from a place of feeling, or seeking after, pop music centers around it in some way. And young queer boys want to feel that. I cannot speak for all, but I would say most of us felt isolated for an extended period of time compared to our straight male peers. We did not feel the typical, in my case, American school dream. You would have a crush on a girl in elementary school and your friends would tease you. You would go on your first date in middle school and maybe have your first kiss before ninth grade; if you didn’t you were a loser. You would have a girlfriend in high school and go to the dances together; slow dancing to the love song of the year. Well I did not have that. I did not fucking have that and I am still pissed about it. I thought about it every day when I would go to school. I would see couples together at a table and fire would fuel my eyes. I suddenly had no iris once I saw them because that should be me. Why did no one ask me out to prom with a huge stupid sign during lunch with everyone watching. I would have hated it but still: I wanted that and I never got it. And that is why I enjoyed listening to so much pop music when I was younger. It distracted me from the bitter jealousy I held in my heart towards the experiences I knew I would not get to live out. Pop music gave me an outlet for all of my emotions and I only have those artistically gifted women to thank. So this is an eight year old me thanking all of you for making me feel safe and myself within your music.

Article by Adrian Ceja

Featured Image of Bar Boy by Salmon Toor