Masculinity and Minority Stress among Men in Same-sex Relationships

Abstract

Although previous research has examined associations among masculinity, sexual orientation, minority stress, and mental health, these studies focused exclusively on individuals as units of analysis. This study investigates how men in same-sex relationships uniquely experience minority stress associated with their perceptions and performances of masculinity, as individuals and as couples. Qualitative, dyadic data are drawn from in-depth interviews with 24 male couples (48 partners), discussing two main stress themes—Threatened by Others’ Gender Performances and Straight-acting Masculinity as Individual-level Insulation with Couple-level Challenges. Primary findings are (1) men in same-sex relationships are vulnerable to new forms of minority stress because their relationships increase visibility via others’ masculinity, and (2) being in a same-sex relationship influences partners’ self-perceptions of masculinity and their relationship dynamics. Findings improve insights regarding gender performance in minority stress processes affecting sexual minority men and their intimate relationships with one another. By virtue of their sexual minority and relationship statuses, men in same-sex relationships experience unique, masculinity-related stressors.

Previous research has demonstrated how minority stressors (Meyer 1995, 2003) affect the well-being of sexual minority men, but current understandings do not recognize how these men are vulnerable to uniquely stressful experiences related to their performances of masculinity within the con-text of their intimate relationships. Moreover, prior research on minority stress experience has focused on individuals as the unit of analysis, largely ignoring the relational contexts of minority stress experience (Frost et al. 2017; LeBlanc, Frost, and Wight 2015). In this study, we draw from two previously independent literatures: (1) research concerning social stress associated with men’s identities and performances of masculinity and (2) research concerning minority stress experiences among sexual minority men, in particular men in same-sex relationships. In doing so, we consider ways in which sexual minority men may be uniquely vulnerable to previously unexamined sources of social stress that have the potential to diminish their mental health.

Standards and Performances of Masculinity, Gay Men, and Mental Health

Existing theories conceptualize a hierarchy of masculinities, with a hegemonic masculinity functioning as the dominant and most endorsed form (Connell 2005; Connell and Messerschmidt 2005). Threatening language and acts of antigay violence (Kelley and Gruenewald 2015; Pascoe 2005, 2011) illustrate the devaluing of men who do not demonstrate hegemonic masculinity, diminishing them for having or showing feminine traits or other traits that stray from heterosexuality as the hegemonic masculine ideal (Connell 1992). The hegemonic masculine ideal may vary by context (e.g., country, geography, class), but it is typically characterized as straight, stoic, athletic, and successful (Mosse 1998). One key way that all men know whether they are meeting or failing standards of masculinity is their observations of other men around them (Schrock and Schwalbe 2009). Likewise, men validate other men and boys when they conform to masculine norms and sanction them when they deviate (e.g., Higate 2007; Kane 2006). The assessment of conformity operates not only internally but also through other people.

As Schrock and Schwalbe (2009) argue, to gain recognition as “men,” individuals must convincingly perform manhood acts—a set of conventional, signifying practices through which people establish and uphold the “man” identity in social and interpersonal interactions. For gay men, successfully signifying masculinity may be more difficult because hegemonic masculine ideals fundamentally reject homosexuality (Connell 1992,2005). Within the heteronormative heuristic of hegemonic masculinity (Chesebro 2001), men must present themselves as straight to be considered masculine (Eguchi 2009). As a result, like many of their nongay counterparts, some gay men develop a masculine identity based on straight-acting to resolve the deviation from hegemonic masculinity associated with homosexuality (Connell 1992). The term straight-acting describes gen-der-conforming traits and performances—in this case masculine ones—stereotypically linked to straight men, including appearance, dress, mannerisms, speech, and interests (Carpenter 2008; Payne 2007).

If men are straight-acting, they are primarily performing gender to identify themselves as “masculine” men and distinguish themselves from “feminine” men and men expressing gay identities. Such performances can help to protect straight-acting men—gay and nongay—from stigma and discrimination aimed at men deemed to be effeminate (Connell 1992) or otherwise gender nonconforming (i.e., outward appearance does not follow traditional gender roles) (Gordon and Meyer 2008). Clarkson (2006:192) explained, “A straight-acting gay identity is positioned in opposition to cultural stereotypes of gay men that conflate femininity with homosexuality.” As a form of sexual aesthetic—“cultural and stylistic distinctions utilized to delineate symbolic boundaries between gay and straight cultures and individuals” (Bridges 2014:62)—straight-acting gay men may conceal their sexual orientation. Some may pass for straight or reject feminine traits as a means of avoiding the stigma of homosexuality to some degree and access straight and/or masculine privilege (Kenji 2002).

Research has shown that gay men use straight acting to embody hegemonic masculinity in sports (Anderson 2007), online communities (Clarkson 2006), and dating (Phua 2002). Anderson (2007) found that former football players who have engaged in homosexual sex use straight-acting, via maintaining sexist and homophobic attitudes, to deemphasize stigma after becoming cheer-leaders. Clarkson (2006) studied interactions on http://StraightActing.com , an online community where self-identified “straight-acting gay men” discuss a wide range of issues, primarily straight-acting as it pertains to their own gender performances, preferences in partners, and what constitutes straight-acting. He found that members use the discussion board to emphasize antifemininity and homophobia and condemned gender performances they labeled as “in your face” gayness. In his study of online dating advertisements, Phua (2002) found that gay men specified wanting masculine or straight-acting partners. In all three domains, straight-acting granted privilege by marginalizing femininity.

In a general sense, American society demands that all men, including gay men, endorse hegemonic masculine norms such as pursuit of status (e.g., financial success), emotional control, and self-reliance (Mahalik et al. 2003). Failing to fulfill hegemonic masculine norms can result in distress (e.g., Lu and Wong 2013, 2014), yet successfully enacting normative demonstrations of hegemonic masculinity such as avoiding help and excessively expressing anger can also promote poor mental health among all men (Courtenay 2000). However, gay men must additionally contend with hegemonic masculinity’s central tenant of heterosexuality. Although men who publicly identify as gay or bisexual may reject heterosexuality from their repertoire of manhood acts, gay subcultures also reflect generally shared masculine norms such as valorizing muscularity and sexual risk taking (Halkitis, Green, and Wilton 2004). Indeed, some gay subcultures may reflect such norms to an even greater degree or with greater intensity, and gay men who fail to fulfill any of these varying ideals of gay masculinity appear to be at disproportionate risk for poor mental health (e.g., Fischgrund, Halkitis, and Carroll 2012; Sánchez and Vilain 2012; Sanchez et al. 2010; Siconolfi et al. 2009; Szymanski and Carr 2008).

Minority Stress Theory, Relationship Context, and Masculinity

We begin this section by introducing minority stress theory, explaining how recent research has drawn attention to the relational context of minority stress experiences among people in same-sex relationships (LeBlanc et al. 2015). In relation to known minority stressors, we further discuss the value of examining stressors associated with masculinity—as experienced by individuals, including in the context of their intimate relation-ships, which society stigmatizes.

Minority stress theory focuses on the stressors that emerge from overarching social systems that perpetuate structural, systematic, and interpersonal disadvantage for minority group members. As applied to studies of sexual minority populations, minority stress processes are (1) experiences of discrimination, (2) expectations of rejection, (3) concealment, and (4) internalized homophobia (Meyer 1995, 2003). Experiences of discrimination, specifically acts of antigay violence, are core stressors affecting sexual minorities who are disproportionately exposed to prejudice events, including discrimination and violence. Expectations of rejection describes sexual minorities’ anticipation of rejection based on their sexual orientation in a variety of contexts including family and work. The anticipation, and even expectation, of negative regard from others means that sexual minorities must constantly be “on guard,” which can necessitate significant activity and energy. Concealment of one’s sexual orientation may initially protect one from stigma, but concealment itself carries a cognitive burden. Sexual minorities must constantly monitor their behavior in all situations and sometimes use deceit to hide their stigma, which can be taxing and prevents one from sharing important aspects of one’s self. Internalized homophobia refers to gay people’s internalization of negative social attitudes about homosexuality that result in a devaluation of the self and internal conflicts (Frost and Meyer 2009). Even in the absence of overt negative events and successfully enacting concealment, sexual minorities may be harmed by directing negative social values toward the self in the form of self-stigmatization.

As demonstrated in recent theoretical writings and empirical research (Frost et al. 2017; LeBlanc et al. 2015), men who engage in romantic relationships with other men are likely to become vulnerable to unique couple-level minority stressors that they may experience individually or jointly with their same-sex partners because same-sex relationships are, in and of themselves, stigmatized or marginalized. Each partner in a same-sex relationship experiences minority stress as both a stigmatized individual and as a partner in a stigmatized relationship form. By integrating the couple-level minority stress construct, one can begin to understand the relational context of stress experience better. This applies not only to same-sex relationships but also to people in other stigmatized relationship forms, including interracial couples.

Research on shared stress experiences has examined stress proliferation in studies of generally experienced social stressors in the forms of stress spillover (via intrapersonal processes) and stress crossover (via interpersonal processes) in the context of intimate relationships (e.g., Grzywacz, Almeida, and McDonald 2002; Young, Schieman, and Milkie 2014). Couple-level minority stressors are qualitatively different from individual-level minority stressors and dyadic minority stress processes. For example, a gay man experiences stress because he hides his sexual orientation (concealment) from his homophobic father to avoid disownment (rejection) and his homophobic employer (discrimination). By comparison, two cohabitating men experience stress because they must individually and jointly manage visibility of their relationship (concealment) from their respective families (rejection of the relation-ship or partner) and might face barriers to legal recognition of their relationship (discrimination).

The extension of minority stress frameworks to include the relational context (LeBlanc et al. 2015) provides a useful heuristic to more fully examine how men in same-sex relationships experience minority stress associated with their individual performances of masculinity as well as alongside those of their intimate partners. In the following discussion, we incorporate expressions of gender that deviate from, as well as follow, traditional gender roles as a minority stressor that may function within these four processes at the individual and couple levels.

Regarding experiences of discrimination, performances of masculinity that others read as suggesting one is gay, according to prevalent stereotypes about gay men, put them at greater risk of experiencing antigay discrimination. To validate their own masculinity and/or to deny claims of masculinity from their targets, perpetrators of antigay violence and discrimination may harass sexual minorities (Bufkin 1999; Kelley and Gruenewald 2015; Tomsen 2009). If two gay men are together publically, they may be more likely to catch the attention of prejudiced men who want to demonstrate their masculinity by harassing gay men.

Although expectations of rejection are often sexual orientation based, observers may read gender performances as indicators of sexual orientation. For example, a man could be fired because he acts effeminately and is assumed gay because of his gender performance rather than on direct knowledge of his sexual orientation. Gay men may be hypervigilant about stigmatized forms of masculinity, worrying that they are acting too “gay” or “straight,” or not enough of either, which could potentially delegitimize their relationship. Likewise, gay men may be hypervigilant about possible (even if imagined) negative events. Furthermore, gay men may read others’ masculinity performances as signifiers of potential rejection. A gay couple may be extra vigilant about their gender performances because being out together may draw additional scrutiny.

In terms of concealment, monitoring of one’s own and others’ behaviors means that gay men must carefully choose how they perform masculinity and what interests and activities they publically claim if those things prompt challenges or scrutiny regarding their masculinity from others. Likewise, they must consider the masculinity performances of men with whom they interact to avoid labels of “gay by association.” Being in a same-sex relationship makes concealment more challenging and stressful regardless of how convincing their gender performances imply that they are straight because being together with another gay man suggests one is gay.

For internalized homophobia, men, from an early age, learn that others can use the gay label to emasculate and feminize other men simultaneously as a performance of masculinity (Pascoe 2005, 2011). As adults, gay men may consequently feel that their masculinity is in question or under scrutiny because of their sexual orientation or that their masculinity and sexual orientation are incompatible (Sánchez and Vilain 2012). Gay men might resent their partners or themselves if they are acting too “gay” or “straight,” which can place strain on their relationship.

In this section, we have described the basic tenets of existing theories about minority stress, identifying a previously unexamined source of minority stress that stems from performances of masculinity (at the individual and couple levels), which has the potential to diminish their mental health. In sum, both partners in a male couple are subject to unique masculinity-related minority stressors by virtue of being in a stigmatized relationship form.

CURRENT STUDY

Several studies have drawn from minority stress theory to explain the correlation between gay men’s unique experiences of masculinity and poor mental health (e.g., Hamilton and Mahalik 2009; Kimmel and Mahalik 2005). Hamilton and Mahalik (2009) explained how gay men simultaneously experience stressors pertaining to their sexual minority status, pressures to enact hegemonic masculinity, and approval from salient reference groups, which all make unique contributions to expounding gay men’s mental health. Kimmel and Mahalik (2005) showed how minority stressors were associated with body image dissatisfaction and masculine body ideal distress. Although these studies support the role of minority stress and men’s health behaviors, they ignored the relational context, focusing only on individual-level experiences of participants’ masculinity rather than couple level experiences of participants’ own and others’ masculinity performances.

In sum, previous research has shown that gay men face unique minority stressors when they are unable to fulfill masculine ideals, which may affect their mental health (Fischgrund et al. 2012; Hamilton and Mahalik 2009; Kimmel and Mahalik 2005; Sánchez et al. 2010; Siconolfi et al. 2009). However, research has yet to fully investigate the role of masculinity in gay men’s mental health because previous literature focused on individuals, largely ignoring the relational contexts in which they experience minority stress. Additional studies of stress associated with masculinity/femininity among male, female, and heterosexual couples are needed. In this study, we investigate the question, How do gay men in same-sex relationships experience minority stressors relating to their own and others’ individual or collective performances of masculinity? By addressing this question, we strive to gain greater insight into the unique ways coupled gay men experience masculinity in stressful ways that differ from unpartnered sexual minority men and men in opposite-sex relationships.

METHODOLOGY

Participants

These analyses are based on qualitative, dyadic data gathered from 120 men (60 couples, 120 partners) in same-sex relationships who self-identified as gay or queer participating in a larger study of minority stress among same-sex couples (including female and male couples) in the greater Atlanta and San Francisco Bay areas, as detailed elsewhere (de Vries et al. 2017; Frost et al. 2017). Eligibility criteria for participation were that both partners (1) be at least 21 years old; (2) perceive themselves as a couple; (3) have been engaged in a sexual relationship at some point in their shared history; and (4) could participate in English. Couples were enrolled using a modified targeted nonprobability recruitment strategy (Meyer and Wilson 2009; Meyer, Schwartz, and Frost 2008; Watters and Biernacki 1989) to increase sample diversity and minimize bias inherent in community samples (e.g., avoiding recruitment from venues that overrepresented individuals with high levels of mental health problems and stressful life events). Quota-based sampling also was used to ensure diversity by gender, study site, relationship duration, and race/ethnicity.

In the current study, we identified 24 couples (48 partners) who discussed masculinity and stress in the context of their relationships for our sample using the coding process described below. Across the two sites, 62.5 percent were from Atlanta, and 37.5 percent from San Francisco. The distribution of relationship categories was six months to 3 years (33.3 percent), 3 to 7 years (29.2 percent), and more than 7 years (37.5 percent). The racial/ethnic makeups of couples were white/white (50.0 percent), black/black (20.8 percent), Asian Latino (4.2 percent), and 8.3 percent each for white/Latino, white/black, and white/Asian pairings. The average age was 41.40 years, and the age range was 25 to 74 years.

Instruments

Each couple met with an interviewer for an audio-recorded discussion lasting approximately two hours. Interviews were organized around couples’ joint creation of a “relationship timeline,” along which they defined and discussed key events, experiences, or time periods during their relation-ship. Interviews focused explicitly on the stressors that stemmed from these key points.

We adapted existing lifeline methodology (de Vries et al. 2017) in which couples begin by jointly creating a timeline anchored with “DATE WE MET” on one end, and “TODAY” somewhere along the line, leaving space for their envisioned future, wherein anticipated stressors also may reside. They then defined, labeled, and rated the key events or periods that occurred in terms of how stressful each event was on a 0 (not at all stressful) to 4 (very stressful) scale. Interviewers then instructed participants to revisit and mark any that involved prejudice, discrimination, or other negative feelings related to being a same-sex couple (i.e., designate events involving minority stress). Next, interviewers identified and discussed four events/periods on the line—the highest-rated (i.e., most stressful) events/periods closest to the date they met, “today,” and the future, and one event/period the couple chose. These four were then discussed in detail. Up to two previously undiscussed events/periods couples designated as involving minority stress also were discussed.

We employed narrative methods for studying stigma and stress in relationships (Frost 2011) to elicit narratives revealing the subjective experiences of stress, the nature and context of those experiences, and how couples attempted to manage related relationship difficulties. Specifically, interviewers used narrative prompts to ask couples to discuss each selected event noting (1) details of what happened, (2) who was involved, (3) what they were thinking and feeling during the event, and (4) how the event affected their daily lives as a couple. The results were narrative accounts of stressful events/periods that couples jointly narrated and thus were subject to qualitative analysis of couple-level minority stressors and dyadic minority stress processes (LeBlanc et al. 2015). These procedures were reviewed and approved by the institutional review board at San Francisco State University.

Researchers who are sexual minorities and members of same-sex couples conducted most of the interviewing and coding. Concerns related to “insider/outsider” status were addressed through a standardized protocol, extensive training on interviewer sensitivity, role-playing activities, and engagement in reflective exercises during weekly project meetings (e.g., building empathy and perspective-taking; Gair 2012).

Identifying and Coding Masculinity Narratives

Drawing from the data corpus of 60 interviews of male couples, we developed a data set by identifying interviews that contained discussions of masculinity (i.e., signifying the possession of a masculine self) (Schrock and Schwalbe 2009). Signifiers included any manhood acts—“a set of conventional signifying practices through which the identity ‘man’ is established and upheld in interaction” (Schrock and Schwalbe 2009:279). These practices included behaviors, attitudes, perceptions, acknowledgments, and descriptions of self and others. We identified all data items (i.e., interviews) relevant to stressful experiences and masculinity such as gendered terminology (e.g., man, masculine, macho, butch, feminine, queen) in reference to the self (i.e., a partner’s, someone else’s, or generalized others’) and characteristics or behaviors that describe masculinity based on previous literature (e.g., strong/weak, emotional/stoic). This process produced a data set of 24 interviews of couples.

After creating the data set, we conducted the matic analysis (Braun and Clarke 2006) to identify, analyze, and report patterns (themes) about masculinity and stress in the context of same-sex relationships. Coding began by rereading interviews and noting initial ideas such as participants’ mentioning “effeminate men” and “straight acting.” Generating initial codes involved identifying data extracts that appeared interesting and noting ideas about how they revealed experiences of stress associated with gender performance. For example, we identified the extract, “We had these friends who were more effeminate than us. … If we went out to dinner anywhere and they acted too gay, he would get all uptight,” and noted that others’ publically acting effeminate or gay caused a partner to experience stress. After identifying and commenting on interesting extracts, we reviewed all extracts to search for potential themes.

Upon recognizing that extracts focused on participants’ either “expressing discomfort with others acting masculine or feminine” or “participants acting/appearing straight,” we collated extracts based on these two themes. We reviewed these candidate themes by considering the relationships across codes, between the two themes, and between differ-ent levels of themes (i.e., overarching themes and subthemes within them). For instance, the initial codes “feeling uptight around effeminate men,” “feeling uptight around queens,” “fearing alpha males,” and “men in IT [information technology] drink and visit strip clubs” construed the broader theme “threatened by others’ gender performance.” After devising the broader themes, we assessed relationships among codes collated under each theme to determine subthemes. To illustrate, we developed the subthemes “effeminate” and “hypermasculine” from the previously mentioned initial codes and theme. We then created a codebook that operationally defines differences among codes and (sub)themes.

RESULTS

We identified two themes of couple-level experiences related to masculinity and stress: (1) Threat-ened by Others’ Gender Performances and (2) Straight-acting Masculinity as Individual-level Insulation with Couple-level Challenges. Extracts illustrate each theme (names are pseudonyms).

Threatened by Others’ Gender Performances

Several couples observed others’ gender performance and perceived it as threatening. Others’ behaviors did not need to be directed at participants for them to feel threatened. Participants merely had to witness others and imagine how those behaviors might put them at risk. For example, some participants thought other men’s effeminacy would jeopardize their efforts to conceal their identities or their relationships, whereas others interpreted indications of others’ hegemonic masculinity performance as indicative of homophobia or a propensity toward antigay violence. Participants considered these possibilities based on others’ gender performance even though other men did not show any intent to harm. Participants described these gender performances as exaggerated, either very feminine or hegemonically masculine.

Some participants experienced anxiety when other men acted effeminately around them in public. In the following example, Larry (38, white) discusses how Karlos (39, Latino) felt when they encountered gay men he deemed to be effeminate. Their exchange illustrates how some couples worried that other gay men’s effeminacy might out them as gay if others associated them.

Larry: He was a big old closet case. We couldn’t even hold hands in public. We had these friends who were more effeminate than us, If we went out to dinner and they acted too gay, he would get all uptight. I was emotional at the beginning, all uptight. It was not the issue for our relationship, but I felt—

Karlos: I was terrified.

Larry: Yeah, I felt like my closet had been incinerated by how flaming a homosexual I had become.

Karlos had not come out, so he was adamant about concealing his sexual orientation in public. Karlos’s noneffeminate gender performance had protected him from potential stigma and discrimination, but showing affection in his same-sex relationship challenged his efforts to conceal his sexual orientation. Moreover, other gay men’s feminine gender performances conformed to gay stereotypes and put Karlos’s concealment at risk because observers would likely assume they were all gay. Not only did Karlos experience anxiety when effeminate gay men interacted with him when he was in public with Larry, but Larry would also feel anxious. As a result of their relationship, Larry also experienced stress when the distress of an effeminate gay man affected Karlos. Addition-ally, Larry became self-conscious about his own gender performance and his ability to conceal his sexual orientation.

Karlos and Larry recalled an incident in which Larry policed their friends’ feminine gender performances.

Larry: If we were in Midtown [Atlanta], he was fine, and everyone could act how they wanted to act but we would go to Buckhead or wherever and some-body would act the queen. … He would be uptight.

Karlos: When we went to New Orleans with Liam and Kyle, I didn’t want them going up to the counter with me when I checked us all into our hotel rooms. … In general, when out in regular public without any consequence, you don’t. You used to be the butch police. You were always like, “Butch it up” boys.

Karlos felt comfortable around effeminate gay men when he was with Larry in gay-friendly areas such as Midtown Atlanta, where his sexual orientation would be more accepted. Karlos’s discomfort in less gay-friendly locations, such as Buckhead, illustrates how geographical context matters. To avoid adding to Karlos’s anxiety and, by extension, his own distress, Larry pressured their effeminate gay friends to “butch it up.” They, particularly Karlos, who was closeted at the time, felt anxious around feminine gay men because audiences could more easily or more likely identify them as gay. Although Karlos as an individual gay man risks being assumed gay when around effeminate men, the risk multiplies when Larry is present because Larry’s presence supports the hypothesis that Karlos might be romantically/sexually involved with men, whereas Larry’s absence does not support this hypothesis. For example, Karlos and Larry’s checking into a hotel together while interacting with feminine men implies they are a gay couple sharing a hotel room whereas Karlos’s checking in alone leaves more ambiguity about his sexual orientation. Being in a same-sex relationship exposed Karlos and Larry to couple-level stressors, including risks of unveiling concealment, rejection, and discrimination; relationship strain; and managing one another’s distress. Larry experiences stress from managing Karlos’s emotions and their effeminate friends’ gender performance. Both partners experienced distress from both effeminate gay men and efforts at managing others’ gender performances.

Compared to couples who felt threatened by others’ feminine gender performances, some couples described feeling threatened by others perceived as “very masculine.” Participants were under the impression that such masculine others might harass or avoid them if they learned of their sexual orientation. Participants implied that others might not infer or express interest in their sexual orientation as individuals, but if others saw partners together, others would likely determine participants were gay. In these cases, others had not actually displayed signs of homophobia, but the possibility of negative reactions induced anxiety in both partners.

George (32, white) and Henry’s (41, white) narrative illustrates how gay couples may be hypervigilant about antigay violence and worry that being together could make them a target. They discussed a camping trip where they witnessed a group of teenagers acting in hegemonically masculine ways that scared them.

Henry: This group of teenagers was on the same hiking path, and they were hooting, hollering, and drinking… There’s that moment of fear you see in the movies…I think the big thing was that there were clearly some alpha males in that group. They’re literally just teen-agers. … You get that kind of flash of fear … what if they decide to—

George: I mean there are 10 of them and 2 of us.

Henry: What if they decide to show their asses—

George: What if they see two guys camping and just instigate something.

Henry: Right…we never even crossed paths with them… It’s not like we had rainbow flags and disco balls up at the campgrounds. So they wouldn’t have looked over and said, there’re two gay guys, but still you get that initial—

George: Just from being gay and hearing stories of the Matthew Shepherds, you don’t know the moment that someone capable of doing that looks and says, Hmm, I think those guys are gay. Let me go kick their ass.

Henry: Right. That’s why this [study] is actually really cool ‘cause we weren’t discriminated against in any way. It was just an actual moment of stress because the thought of something that you know the probability of it happening is very small, but it was stressful just to think about the “what if.”

Interviewer: So nothing actually happened?

Henry: No, it was just anticipation.

George: No, it was more of like it happened between us… Nobody said any-thing nor did anything. We had a conversation about it because I was terrified.

Although the teenagers did not direct their “hooting and hollering” at them, Henry emphasized that the presence of “alpha males” triggered their fear of an attack. George also mentioned that the teenagers outnumbered them 10 to 2. George and Henry acknowledged that they had not interacted with the teenagers nor displayed any overt indicators of their sexual orientation, yet well known stories of hate crimes against gays made them more cognizant and vigilant of potential attacks. Their fear stemmed from alpha males’ seeing two gay men together rather than just one.

The teenagers’ manhood acts facilitated couple-level stressors in several ways. First, George and Henry did not actually experience dis-crimination, but the “hooting and hollering” of the group’s alpha males initiated the vicarious experience of trauma by prompting them to imagine themselves as victims of violence (Lu 2012, 2016) akin to Matthew Shepard. As George noted, this vicarious trauma “happened between us,” which highlights the couple-level experience of stress. Second, they acknowleged that they did not project any symbolic signifiers of their sexual orientation but explained that being seen together put them at risk of the teenagers’ identifiying and harrassing them. Given that perpetrators of anti-LGBT hate crimes are primarily younger, poorer men (Tomsen 2009), George and Henry perceived the teenagers as potential assailants intending to prove their masculinity through anti-LGBT violence. Despite any explicit intentions to harm, they were hypervigilant about the teen-agers’ identifying them as gay because they were camping together rather than individually.

Isiah (41, black) and Jeffrey’s (45, black) narrative illustrates how working in an environment with hegemonically masculine men can be stressful for same-sex couples. Isiah works in the male-dominated sector of IT. Isiah and Jeffrey explained how Isiah’s hegemonically masculine coworkers may feel uncomfortable with his sexual orientation.

Isiah: My coworkers are just that, I don’t socialize. I don’t even have their phone numbers. Because I work in IT, and it’s a bunch of guys, and they all drink, going to the strip clubs and all that stuff, and I don’t.

Jeffrey: That’s why I feel in his environment, it may be looked upon in a different way.

Isiah: Yeah, they assume I’m straight.

Most, if not all, of Isiah’s coworkers engage in activities associated with hegemonically masculine, straight men, so Isiah and Jeffrey assumed that his coworkers would probably feel uncomfortable or think of him negatively if they were to learn he is gay. Isiah’s coworkers’ involvement in these particular manhood acts excluded him from forming social relationships with them. Isiah’s coworkers assumed he was straight, so he felt some pressure to behave in ways that maintain their perception. The masculine environment affects Isiah directly as an individual but has broader implications that their subsequent elaboration illustrates

Isiah: In IT, it’s a very masculine—

Jeffrey: Environment.

Isiah: They’re all married, still talking about women and strip clubs and going out… what they did last night. … They just assume I’m straight. … I don’t know why because all them have pictures of their wives on their walls. … I have a picture of him, but with my family on one of our family portraits on my wall. …It’s never come up. I would definitely tell them if one of them asked, but no one has ever bothered to ask.

Interviewer: But there’s this underlying assumption they would be uncomfortable with it because of the type of environment you work in?

Isiah: Exactly.

Interviewer: Does that have an effect on you as a couple?

Isiah: If I wanted to go to Christmas parties and the social stuff they did, and wanted to bring him, it may. But I don’t even want to go, so that solves that.

Jeffrey: Do you think that you don’t want to go because you want to avoid that?

Isiah: No, because I really don’t want to socialize with them. I don’t like them. [Laughs] I just don’t like them. … They’re hypocrites.

The intense hegemonically masculine organizational culture of Isiah’s workplace prevented him from fully cultivating his social life both with his coworkers (i.e., socializing and fully disclosing his sexual orientation) and with Jeffrey (i.e., integrating Jeffrey into his work life). Isiah’s work-place stress also distresses Jeffrey because his partner suffers. Isiah’s work environment additionally prevents them from attending work-related social events together, an activity that symbolically and publically affirms a couple. An inability to participate in relationship-affirming activities could potentially strain their relation-ship. Isiah was not against admitting he is gay if his coworkers asked, but he did not choose to do so because he assumed that they would reject him for being gay. Isiah did not want to socialize with his coworkers because of their behavior, but he acknowledged that bringing Jeffrey as his romantic partner would overtly signal his sexual orientation to his coworkers. Being in a same-sex relationship potentially jeopardizes Isiah’s occupational relationships. Isiah also disapproved of his coworkers’ hegemonically masculine behaviors because he considered them hypocrites, yet he could not confront them about their womanizing without the risk of outing himself (i.e., pointing out their philandering draws attention to his own sexuality), potentially alienating his coworkers.

Straight-acting Masculinity as Individual-level Insulation with Couple-level Challenges

In a heteronormative society, perceiving others as straight is the default (Connell 2005). Men must deviate from hegemonic masculine norms to be read as nonstraight. Several participants discussed how their masculinity concealed their sexual orientation. They did not intentionally act in ways to give others the impression they were straight, but many people assumed they were straight because they performed a straight-acting masculinity. Straight-acting had insulated them from individual-level minority stressors, but being in a same-sex relationship nullified the protective aspects of straight-acting and placed them at risk of couple-level minority stressors.

Marvin (41, black) and Neville’s (53, black) narrative illustrates how gay men can pass, thereby avoiding stigma, but being together publically voids the protection that straight-acting offers. As individuals, Marvin and Neville both had a gender performance that led others to assume they were straight. However, others often realized they were gay when others saw the men together as a couple. Although both partners would tell others they are gay if others asked, neither proactively brings the topic up.

Neville: Why do you think that you’ve never experienced negativity for being gay?

Marvin: I think a lot of people—unless we are out as a couple, we go places to eat—might say, Oh, damn, I didn’t know they was gay. On my job, I had more women want to talk to me than anybody! I don’t present myself as gay, not that I was trying to hide it, but sometimes it doesn’t make a difference.

By saying, “I don’t present myself as gay,” Marvin implied that he straight-acted. In fact, his presentation of straight-acting masculinity was convincing enough that several women considered him a viable romantic/sexual partner. Even though his goal was not concealment, as an individual, Marvin’s masculinity masked his sexual orientation, thus protecting him against individual-level minority stressors. When alone, Marvin’s likelihood of experiencing sexual orientation—based rejection or discrimination would be similar to hegemonically masculine straight men’s. Effeminate gay men might experience stress from rejection, discrimination, or concealment, but Marvin hypothesizes that he did not because his straight-acting hides his sexual orientation. However, going out as a same-sex couple could unveil Marvin’s concealment and put them at risk of stigma.

Moreover, Marvin’s emphasizing, “I had more women want to talk to me than anybody!” is notable because others are not validating his identity, and he is aware of it. Hypothetically, as someone who identifies as gay but unintentionally conceals his orientation, Marvin could potentially experience distress because others are not interacting with him according to his actual identity. When women treat Marvin as a potential romantic or sexual partner rather than an unavailable man due to his orientation, their perceptions of Marvin are incongruent with his sexual identity. Likewise, Marvin might perceive women’s advances as unwelcomed attention. Although Marvin did not explicitly discuss it, disconfirmation of one’s gender identity (as masculine) can be another source of stress for straight-acting gay men in same-sex relationships.

Oscar (27, white) and Paul’s (29, white) story illustrates how being together can nullify the concealment that an individual’s straight-acting maintains. They recounted ordering food at a gas station deli. Both partners acknowledged that they looked “gay” but admitted it may not be obvious to others. This ambiguity emerged when the deli clerk tried to determine their relationship based on their sexual aesthetic and presence together.

Paul: I guess once you’re fine being openly gay for a while, you tend to think it’s written on your forehead, so when people don’t get it or just assume you’re straight you’re like, Oh yeah that’s right, I’m in a straight world, forgot about that. I think we look übergay sometimes, but apparently we fool people.

Oscar: I was wearing camo shorts.

Paul: Your hair was—

Oscar: It was shorter.

Paul: She looked at us … we’re standing right next to each other getting lunch. … She’s like, “You boys from the base?” We look at each other. “No.” Then she was like, “Are you brothers?”

Oscar: I’m like, “Nope.”

Paul: “No, no, not brothers.” You just don’t feel comfortable. Oscar visibly walked away from the conversation.

Oscar: ‘Cause I was gonna start laughing.

Paul: You don’t know what to say ‘cause you don’t want to make people feel bad, but there’s also the bigger risk of pissing ‘em off.

Oscar: Yeah, they’re also making our sand-wich. [Laughs]

Paul: [Laughs] It was secluded, we were just with our friends that weekend. Oscar: It was four gay men.

Oscar: It was four gay men.

Paul: We’re out together—it feels obvious…No stranger did or said anything but … going to a restaurant … people look.

By stating, “I think we look ubergay sometimes, but apparently we fool people,” Paul implied that they had a gay aesthetic, but it was unconvincing because others did not automatically assume they were gay, likely due to society’s heteronormativity. Although unintentional, their de facto straight-acting masculinity had sufficiently concealed their sexual orientation in previous encounters. However, their presence together raised the curiosity of the lunch clerk. They did not explicitly state exhibiting intimacy, but the clerk likely noticed closeness atypical among straight male friends. Trying to determine the nature of their relationship, she guessed other intimate relationships (i.e., military, siblings). Rather than overtly state they were romantic partners, Oscar and Paul chose to answer the clerk’s direct yet misguided questions with unelaborated responses. They did not want to offend her because they worried about repercussions such as making the clerk feel foolish for not realizing they were gay or triggering possible homophobia. Oscar and Paul acknowledged that vacationing with another gay couple likely exposed their concealment.

Like George and Henry, Oscar and Paul also recognized that “no stranger did or said anything” but iterated, “We’re out together—it feels obvious. … People look.” Oscar and Paul’s concern illustrates how gay couples who are together in public are hypervigilant about rejection and discrimination and suffer distress by imagining themselves as potential victims (Lu 2012, 2016). Being together publically put them at risk of couple-level stressors—rejection and discrimination—against which their individual straight-acting masculinities had shielded.

The previous two couples explained that their masculinity had concealed their sexual orientation among strangers, which protected each individual partner against individual-level minority stressors. However, Ron (27, white) and Quincy’s (29, white) narrative illustrates how one’s masculinity may be insufficient among acquaintances and in organizational, particularly work, contexts. Ron agonized over telling classmates in his nursing program about Quincy because many male class-mates overtly indicated they were straight.

Ron: I think there is the general school part of meeting new people and always the awareness of Do I mention my boy-friend right now? I just met you. I don’t know you. How do I just get that out there? I don’t know what our interactions are going to be for the next year. I’m also in nursing, so it’s a very stereo[typical]—I actually think that a lot of the males in the pro-gram who are straight made it very clear that they were straight in some ways. So I felt an expectation that either you came out as straight or you didn’t and were obviously gay.

In female-dominated professions, men are cognizant of the gendered connotations of their labor, so they tend to seek out specialties perceived as more masculine (e.g., emergency room nursing) (Snyder and Green 2008). By overtly straightacting, the male students, whether straight or gay, were asserting their masculinity and dismissing perceptions of femininity associated with being gay. Likewise, Ron’s classmates might have wanted to avoid any risks of others’ assuming their sexual orientation was gay. In this con-text, Ron did not have the option of passively passing, remaining silent about his sexual orientation, and consequently worried about whether to emulate his classmates’ straight-acting or mentioning his partner. Ron’s statements imply that others would likely perceive a gay man, especially one in a same-sex relationship, as feminine, and thus perceive him negatively in a female-dominated profession. Any insulation against minority stressors that straight-acting provided a single gay man would be nullified if Ron admitted being in or was observed in a same-sex relationship.

Like Ron’s statement, Elvin (46, black) and Freddie’s (32, black) narrative illustrates the imposition of organizational expectations of hegemonic masculinity. However, their narrative also shows how straight-acting may violate some people’s expectations for how gay men should act, how that violation may invalidate their relationship according to others, and how their relationship may expose them to couple-level minority stressors. When Elvin discussed workplace stress, he stated that many gay men are flight attendants, so his airline wanted him to act straight. Because of his sexual aesthetic at work, most people assumed he was straight. However, upon learning that Elvin had a husband, others who had assumed he was straight became upset because Elvin did not fit what they considered the appropriate masculinity of a gay man.

Elvin: Because a lot of gay men are flight attendants … they want me to show I’m straight. Most people assume I’m straight and then, oh, it’s my husband. It’s weird how that happens because then we get a different set of discrimination. It’s like, No, you can’t be. It’s not plain, so you can’t be gay. We almost have to prove we’re gay, so that’s an interesting weird dichotomy because among gay people … you’re not gay enough.

Freddie: Yeah, my mom asked, “Are you sure he’s, you know,” because when she met him, he didn’t set any signals off in her head. She thought he was a friend.

As an individual, Elvin performed masculinity in such a way that most people, including his coworkers and mother-in-law, assumed he was straight. Elvin’s masculinity conformed to a straight ideal, protecting him against individuallevel minority stressors at work. However, revelations of his same-sex relationship put Elvin and Freddie at risk of couple-level minority stressors. In a same-sex relationship, Elvin’s straight-acting masculinity no longer concealed his sexual orientation, subjecting him to the possibility of work-place discrimination. Moreover, Elvin’s straight acting had protected him in a heterosexist work environment, but it was a liability in his same-sex relationship because others had not perceived Elvin as gay, so they did not acknowledge Elvin and Freddie as a couple (e.g., “She [Freddie’s mom] thought he [Elvin] was a friend.”). This lack of acknowledgment can induce couple-level minority stress because it implies that their relationship is illegitimate. Elvin did not exude masculinity that conformed to a gay ideal of masculinity, so he and Freddie faced discrimination in the gay community: “Among gay people … you’re not gay enough.” Within straight expectations of masculinity, being in a same-sex relationship invalidated straight-acting as a protective factor against couple-level discrimination, and against ideals of gay masculinity, straight-acting served to delegitimize the same-sex relationship.

DISCUSSION

This study elucidates the lived experiences of shared stress related to masculinity among gay couples. Our primary findings are (1) men in same-sex relationships are vulnerable to new forms of minority stress as a result of others’ hegemonic manhood acts evoking vicarious experiences of minority stressors and their relationships, making them more visible by virtue of others’ effeminate performances of masculinity; and (2) being in a same-sex relationship influences each partner’s self-perceptions of masculinity and their relationship dynamics. The two themes participants discussed illustrate how hegemonic masculinity provides the context in which minority stress processes unfold.

The theme Threatened by Others’ Gender Performance showed how participants experienced others’ masculinity as a source of potential minority stressors. The manhood acts of “hooting, hollering, and drinking” and “talking about women and strip clubs” that participants cited were manifestations of hegemonic masculinity. Even though others did not direct any hostility at participants, they associated these manhood acts with antigay violence and homophobia as alternate heteronormative demonstrations of masculinity. Participants vicariously experienced the minority stress processes expectations of rejection and experiences of discrimination by imagining that others would commit violence or discrimination based on the observation that they performed manhood acts indicative of hegemonic masculinity. This finding demonstrates that men in same-sex relationships experience minority stress when observing hegemonically masculine behaviors that suggest potential for violence and discrimination even when these acts did not actually occur. Moreover, this finding is important because it not only shows how direct experiences of masculinity can be stressful for gay couples but also reflects stress emanating from vicarious and imagined experiences (Lu 2012, 2016).

Participants also felt threatened at times by other men who are seen as effeminate because participants were concerned that association with these men might make visible or unveil their own concealment of their identifies or of their relationships when their partners are present. In other words, associating with feminine men (stereotypically gay men) carries a risk of being presumed gay and thus being open to rejection and discrimination by association not just for indiviual men but especially for partnered gay men.

Performing straight-acting masculinity may grant participants straight privilege at the individual level but is less likely to do so at the couple level as being together in public increases the likelihood that others will perceive either partner as gay. Thus, straight-acting men in same-sex relationships likely experience the minority stressor of concealment in unique ways, distinct from when they are out on their own. Although straight-acting may deflect rejection and discrimination, it has the potential to induce stress when others misread a gay man as straight because others are disconfirming his identity as a gay man. The data in this study did not illustrate stress emanating from disconfirmation of one’s masculine self, but previous work by Lu and Wong (2013, 2014) found disconfirmation was a significant source of stress among racial minority men. Furthermore, straight-acting may be an unconscious reflection or manifestation of internalized homo-phobia, or at least an internalization of the stereo-types stemming from hegemonic masculinity. For example, a straight-acting partner—whether intentionally or unintentionally straight-acting—may devalue his relationship, considering it inferior. Straight-acting may also diminish relationship quality, creating conflict between partners.

Our findings are relevant to the work context. Several participants discussed anxieties about introducing or even mentioning their partners to professional colleagues. Attending work-related social events together symbolically and publically affirms couple status in an important life domain. Attending these events alone or avoiding them altogether with the intention of concealment devalues and delegitimizes the relationship, thereby distressing both partners. This finding builds upon research on enacting masculinity in female-dominated professions such as nursing, wherein, against the backdrop of feminized labor, straight men might feel added pressures to enact hegemonic masculinity by asserting a straight identity, thereby dismissing perceptions of femininity associated with being gay (Snyder and Green 2008).

In sum, we found that men in same-sex relationships are more cognizant of their relationships’ stigmatized status when they observe other men’s gender performances. Hegemonically masculine behaviors might seem more threatening to men in same-sex relationships because being seen together makes them more obvious targets of antigay violence compared to an individual who may or may not be perceived as gay. Effeminate performances might draw attention to one’s “couple” status. For example, others may assume two men are platonic, straight friends, but an effeminate performance might trigger suspicion that they are gay, and together as a couple. Single straight-acting men may benefit from straight privilege at times, but the straight aesthetic grants less privilege to those in same-sex relationships, and consequently they may feel more prone to unique minority stressors. Examining masculinity and stress at the couple level reveals findings that other levels of analysis do not.

The innovation of this study is integrating research on minority stress (Meyer 2003), the relational context of minority stressors (LeBlanc et al. 2015), experiences of masculinity-related stress among minority men (Lu and Wong 2013, 2014), and marginalization of gay men (Pascoe 2005, 2011) to enrich understandings of gay men’s experiences of minority stress in the context of their intimate relationships and their own and others’ masculinity. In short, we highlight the significance of gender performance to both individual and couple-level experiences of minority stress and related stress processes affecting relationship quality and mental health (LeBlanc et al. 2015).

Our findings coincide with Lu and Wong’s (2013, 2014) research on masculinity and minority stress among racial/ethnic minority men. They posit that others perceive minority men’s masculinity as inferior because they, and others, internalize negative stereotypes about minority men (e.g., Asian men are nerds and therefore unathletic). As a result, racial/ethnic minority men are exposed to unique stressors associated with their performance of masculinity. In this study we found that straight-acting men were at times insulated from others’ disconfirming appraisals of their masculinity because others assumed they were straight, and therefore, they were not subject to the stereotypes and discrimination faced by gay men deemed effeminate.

Additionally, building on Pascoe’s (2005, 2011) work on gay youth and their peers, our findings suggest that the gender performances of others can provoke fears of pending potential rejection or discrimination. Gay couples might even perceive hegemonically masculine behaviors among men around them as cues or proxies for more heinous behaviors, raising the threat of antigay violence. Gay men’s straight-acting can maintain concealment, whereas effeminate gender performances can unmask it, which also can evoke anxieties about possible rejection and discrimination. Observers might surmise a man is gay if he, his partner, or other men with whom he inter-acts behave effeminately but not realize or con-sider his sexual orientation if he is straight-acting.

Findings of this initial qualitative, dyadic study are more relevant to—of the four minority stress processes—expectations of rejection and concealment than experiences of discrimination or internalized homophobia. Participants were threatened by others’ gender performances because they were concerned about being outed and the potential rejection that may result. Straight-acting maintained concealment, thereby avoiding rejection. Participants discussed imagined experiences of discrimination based on their masculinity but not actual experiences. This absence might be attributable to the sparsity of feminine or gender-nonconforming men (self-perceived) in the sample or the fact that our sample was drawn from the relatively gay-friendly cities of Atlanta and San Francisco. Future research should attempt to better understand couple-level minority stress processes involving internalized homophobia and negative feelings about one’s lack of hegemonic masculinity.

LIMITATIONS AND FUTURE RESEARCH

This study is a first step toward studying masculinity and stress among male couples. Indeed, these data were drawn from a study focused on minority stress in relational context, broadly defined, and not on masculinity or gender performance among gay men perse, so one would not expect masculinity to be an issue discussed as “most stressful” by all couples. The larger study’s focus on an array of unique sources of stress could explain why only 24 of the 60 couples discussed masculinity-related stress. However, despite the fact that the broader study was not centered on masculinity, almost half our sample’s couples discussed masculinity as a significant stressor. We also highlight that the presence of masculinity as a couple-level stressor across multiple cases is more informative to our understanding of minority stress than the frequency of its occurring. Indeed, an array of couple-level minority stressors have emerged in recent research (Frost et al. 2017), demonstrating that—like all types of social stress—they vary in frequency and severity across populations at risk for them. More broadly, focused research on masculinity and stress among men in varying contexts and relationships (e.g., heterosexual relationships) is needed to uncover deeper understandings.

In addition, our reliance on qualitative data from this purposive sample of same-sex couples in two of America’s “gayest” urban areas limits generalizations to the broader population of men in same-sex relationships. We might expect the negative experiences our participants conveyed to be more frequent and pronounced in less accepting locations. All the men in this study, and the larger project, self-identified as gay or queer, so we cannot disentangle how bisexual men may experience masculinity-related stress in unique ways. This study primarily focuses on men in same-sex relationships, and we recognize that variation exists in how men in same-sex relationships describe their sexual orientation. Our analyses of these data did not identify any findings relating to ways in which bisexuality may be associated with masculinity and minority stress, although future research should. Moreover, although our data did not suggest it, participants might have used straight-acting to conceal their identities. The topic of gender performance and identity concealment warrants deeper study. Experiences of minority stress are likely to vary depending on one’s historical cohort or generation, as well as by one’s age or stage of the life course, and emerging research is beginning to address this diversity (Hammack et al. 2018). As this work develops further, research should consider cohort and age variation in the experience of both individual and couple-level minority stressors. Finally, this study focused on men in same-sex relationships, and future research should also examine gender performance and minority stress among women in same-sex relationships.

CONCLUSION

In conclusion, unlike previous research on masculinity and well-being, this research focuses on men in same-sex relationships. With qualitative, dyadic data from 24 couples, we show the significance of gender performance, as well as the complexities of couple-level experiences of minority stress processes. We link masculinity and minority stress by illustrating how men in same-sex relationships are vulnerable to a novel form of minority stress rooted in their own, their partners’, and others’ performances of masculinity. Given the interrelatedness and conflation of gender and sexual orientation, our findings are important because they show that gay men in same-sex relationships experience masculinity-related stressors that single or unpartnered gay or bisexual men and men in opposite-sex relationships, do not. Our findings also highlight the importance of studying couples, which highlights differences in individual-level versus couple-level minority stressors. Being in a same-sex relationship increases the likelihood of experiencing individual-level minority stressors and moreover contributes to unique stress experiences stemming directly from being in a stigmatized or marginalized relationship form (i.e., couple-level minority stress). Furthermore, individual-level minority stressors experienced by one partner tend to proliferate between partners (LeBlanc et al. 2015), further illustrating the larger constellation of social stressors affecting men in same-sex relationships.