As a Baby Queer, Australia’s Under-16 Social Media Ban 100% Would Have Harmed Me

‘As a Baby Queer, Australia’s Social Media Ban 100% Would Have Harmed Me’ is an opinion piece by Star Observer Managing Editor Chloe Sargeant, about the social media ban for young people under 16, which was introduced into federal Parliament today.

Content Note: This article discusses suicide, suicidal ideation, depression and mental health difficulties.

Look, before I start — I do get it. The internet can often be a horrible place, and there are some well-intentioned reasons for the under-16 social media ban that the federal government introduced to Parliament today. 

From misogynist Andrew Tate convincing young boys that women are property/sex toys/generally inferior to men, to a constant 24/7 news cycle of devastating global news, to the major impact that cyberbullying can have on young people. I get it, I really, really do. 

But despite all the negative elements of the internet — in the noughties when I was a teen, my shaky dial-up connection to the world, to LGBTQIA+ people all over the globe, saved me. 

I was a baby queer living in a regional area of South Australia — I had a safe and loving childhood, but where I grew up was far from a LGBTQIA+ area or safe haven. There wasn’t LGBTQIA+ events everywhere like there are today, especially not people under the age of 18, and especially not outside of the major cities.

As a young teen, despite being surrounded by friends and a dedicated and loving family, I was confused about myself, and it made me feel very alone. This was compounded when, shortly before my newly-raging hormones kicked in and my brain started asking questions about my sexuality, I started experiencing symptoms of clinical depression. It runs in my family, but that doesn’t mean I was prepared for it. 

Suddenly, I was constantly sad and angry, I felt deeply alone and I felt like I wanted to die. Suicide was something I thought about often. With all those confused thoughts battering around my head and with how lonely I felt, it sometimes felt like the only option. When I look back and truly think about how close I came to ending my life back then, it scares me.

I started antidepressants almost immediately and my wonderful parents took me to psychologists to get me support, but professional help could only help so much — I still felt confused about my sexuality, and there was simply no way to find community in my everyday life. This wasn’t anyone’s fault, it was just a reality of life – but that didn’t make it any easier.

So, my ONLY safe haven, the only relief to a confused young kid trying to figure out who the fuck they were, was on the internet. 

Online was where I found community, and it was where I learned about LGBTQIA+ issues and history. Without it, I don’t know where I would be — or if I would even be here. 

And pearl-clutchers will undoubtedly clutch pearls at this — yes, it’s where I learned my first information about queer sex. I don’t mean porn (it took about four hours to load a single jpeg, let alone video with our shaky regional dial-up connection, then add to that your parents yelling to get off the internet because they need to use the phone? Let’s just say porn wasn’t exactly high on my list of priorities), I’m talking information about sex. As a curious and confused baby queer, I just wanted to know How It All Worked, y’know? I wanted to understand how people like me walked, talked, related to each other, lived, but also how we loved one another – clothes on AND off. 

I used the internet to get the lay of the queer land, to help me figure it all out. I used the internet to connect with other kids who were going through the exact same situation. I needed information on whether I was alone in the world with how I was feeling — and when I found out I wasn’t, and there was a whole community out there for me to discover, it gave me hope. It gave me a sense of relief. It gave me a light at the end of my tunnel, knowing that a day will come where I would be old enough to go out there and find that community in real life. 

While awareness and acceptance is better than ever, our community still faces a huge amount of discrimination. And even if that wasn’t the case: being a hormonal tween and trying to figure everything out about your diverse sexuality and/or gender identity in a heteronormative world is, to put it simply, just generally fucking DIFFICULT. It can be bewildering and confusing and overwhelming, and kids need support from people community; people who understand.

I don’t want LGBTQIA+ youth, particularly those in regional or rural areas where there isn’t a strong community presence, to be banned from this same relief. 

It was one of the things that educated me and comforted me. It was the thing that gave me a sense that things might be okay, that they might even get better, that I wouldn’t always feel the way I was feeling. Aside from my family, it was the only thing that kept me going in my darkest moments. 

I truly believe that access to queer spaces and online community is essential for LGBTQIA+ young people. And with the social media ban for people under 16 that was introduced in Parliament today, I am scared for them. 

If this passes, our community will need to step up and be there to support our LGBTQIA+ youth. We will need to make sure we’re doing our best to create support options and spaces elsewhere for them — because they will need us more than ever.