Seeing myself in Love, Simon
And the importance of storytelling

By Jacob Dwyer

Back in 2018, I got into a fight with my boyfriend at the time. I had suggested that we go and see Love, Simon - a story of a teenage white boy coming to terms with his sexuality amidst the hijinks that accompany every American high school movie. After dragging him to Call Me By Your Name the previous year, he, a Filipino American, was tired of constantly seeing white gays portrayed on the big screen. He had a point. GLAAD’s “Studio Responsibility Index,” which maps the quality and quantity of LGBTQ representation in productions by major studios, had not identified a single LGBTQ character of Asian or Pacific Islands descent in movies released in 2017. Representation of people of color in blockbuster movies had always been low and was even more pronounced for LGBTQ characters of color. 

While I understood his perspective, I couldn’t not support a blockbuster movie with a prominent gay character and storyline. I felt compelled to support the first movie produced by a major studio featuring a gay teenager and their coming out experience. As a child, I could have never imagined having an opportunity to see such a movie - how much it would have helped with my own experience - and wanted to experience it firsthand. So I went with a friend instead. 

What I saw was very similar to my own experience (bar the more dramatic details) - a white boy living in the suburbs, going to a decent high school with a small group of friends, and navigating the inner turmoil of self-discovery. His clumsy and confusing first messages to an anonymous boy online matched my own experience seeking to better understand my sexuality through online forums and blogs. His fear of being outed reminded me of my looming dread that some slip of the tongue or flick of the wrist would reveal me. Regardless of how much you try to fit in, the mocking by others was also my fate in school. The acceptance given by his friends and family after coming out paralleled my experience, where the most difficult person to come out to in the end was myself. And the movie’s climax evoked the feelings of excitement and freedom I had when I kissed a boy in public for the first time. 

I left the movie that evening feeling overwhelmed with emotion. Representation of gay characters in movies had been increasing, but I had never felt seen on screen. As LGBTQ acceptance grew in the US, more and more movie studios began sprinkling their productions with sidelined and stereotypical gay characters that didn’t provide any insight into what it means to be gay (GLAAD’s 2018 and 2019 reports found that more than half of the LGBTQ characters in major productions had less than 3 minutes of screen time). 

And in the few instances where LGBTQ characters are at the forefront, the storylines are often shrouded in tragedy. This was the storyline fed to my parents as well. Boys Don’t Cry and Brokeback Mountain showed that violence, and even death, can await you because of your identity. Philadelphia and other stories born of the AIDS crisis highlight the trauma of being gay in a society that neglects you and your health. These stories are true, necessary, and valuable, but when I came out to my parents, one of the first reactions was fear. Fear of violence, pain, and harm because of who I am and because those were the stories portrayed.

Love, Simon presented an alternative to that narrative - a storyline focused on, but not overwhelmed by, a gay theme with a happy ending. It was amazing to think that this movie played in every theater around the country, giving the next generation an alternate road toward happiness and joy in their identity while also showing parents of that generation that there are also positive moments ahead. Even though I had seen many movies featuring gay characters in the past, it was only when I saw this movie that I felt my own experience coming to terms with who I am had finally been told. 

Feeling seen is one of the best experiences. It’s the reason why so many people continue pushing for greater diversity in stories presented by the media today. It’s something we should continue to do, and movies like Love, Simon, which closed with a box office revenue of $66.3 million, proved that subversing the standard narrative could succeed. And this narrative continues to succeed. A spin-off series based on the movie, Love, Victor, brings viewers a similar experience with a young boy of color as he seeks to understand his identity and place in the world. And since Love, Simon’s release, I can’t help but look to other prominent LGBTQ characters, such as David Rose in Schitt’s Creek and Amy in Booksmart, that continue this tradition of subverting what had been the traditional LGBTQ narrative. 

However, later reflecting upon the movie, I realized my boyfriend’s initial comment was still right. While this was my story, so many stories still remain unheard (like the character Bram’s own coming out story, which was only briefly mentioned in the movie). Stories need to be told, and we need to listen to all of the stories. We cannot and should not choose what stories to hear and which ones to ignore. Instead, we must stay curious, seek out new stories, all while pushing Hollywood and other media outlets to shed light on those stories still yet untold.  

Do watch Love, Simon, if you haven’t already, and share with us the stories you are enjoying currently.