Beyond the Stereotypes: The Need for Authentic Lesbian Stories in Media

By Lhea Smith |

Imagine this: you're cozied up in bed, ready for a relaxing night in, scrolling through options to find the perfect show or movie. You're in the mood for something romantic, heartwarming and centered on queer women. But as you search, frustration sets in—you can’t find anything that checks all the boxes, or at least nothing worth watching. This is the unfortunate reality for those seeking quality stories featuring queer female characters. While some media representation exists, more often than not it’s plagued with problems of oversexualization, male-dominated perspectives, lack of diversity and premature cancellations. These issues highlight a glaring disparity—queer women’s stories still fall far short of the nuanced, abundant representation given to heterosexual relationships. 

Queer Women in Film

When reviewing popular WLW (women loving women) films, patterns emerge in the types of marketing and representation of these films. Many movie posters displayed—exclusively—White women and scenes of sexual undertones. However, Black women have been at the forefront of creating healthy images of queer women in film—namely, with Dee Ree’s film Pariah and Cheryl Dunye’s The Watermelon Woman, which were both selected for preservation in the National Film Registry. The Watermelon Woman also became the first US feature directed by an “out” Black lesbian. Even with the accolades collected by Black queer female filmmakers, there is still an oversaturation of films that tell stories of White women, neglecting a large majority of women that seek representation. 

This lack of representation accompanies one of the biggest critiques associated with WLW films: the oversexualization of the protagonists—often depicting nothing but sex—and rejecting a plot completely. This critique is commonly associated with a film popular with the LBGTQ+ community called Blue is the Warmest Color. This film is notoriously remembered for its focus on White women, sidelining women of color and the intersecting identities that shape their relationships. For many young viewers, it served as their first introduction to a WLW relationship—one that unfortunately failed to emphasize the importance of portraying healthy relationships on screen. “My main problem was the unnecessary sex scenes. I mean, they do nothing for the plot. That's when you know it was directed by a straight man for straight men…this is not the representation we deserve,” reads a movie review on popular review site Letterboxd. 

This review brings me to another pertinent issue that seeps into WLW representation in film: male directors.

Men have long dominated the film industry, particularly in directing, influencing films depicting WLW relationships. While talented queer female directors, like Alice Wu—known for Saving Face and The Half of It which highlights Asian women within the LGBTQ+ community—are creating meaningful representation, problematic films persist. Movies like Duck Butter and My Summer of Love continue to perpetuate harmful tropes about women, often prioritizing sex over authentic storytelling. 

While it is very important to depict desire in WLW films, it must be done without objectification and neglecting the humanness of the characters. Many male directors cater to the fetishes of straight men, framing queer women’s stories through the male gaze. This approach perpetuates harmful stereotypes and reinforces damaging tropes about queer women in media. The continuous killing off of queer female characters on screen, forbidden love tropes and making women sex robots can play a large part in the way viewers respond and see themselves. Queer women should be allowed positive representation of themselves in the media, where a happy ending is given, and they can feel empowered—yet, they’re often left feeling unimportant due to the lack of space granted to them.

While queer women in the film industry continue to make strides in representing queer women with happy endings, such as in the newer queer film Bottoms which features a lead Black lesbian, they still fall short when considering LGBTQ+ representation as a whole. When looking at the media produced and aired in 2023-2024, lesbian representation has decreased on both cable and streaming platforms, gay men make up a larger percentage of representation on streaming platforms, and 36% of series that featured LGBTQ+ characters would not return. The cancellation of series that feature queer women begs the self-esteem-destructing question of the worthiness of queer women on screen.

Queer Women in Television

In comparison to queer women in film, the representation of WLW relationships in television is quite slim. Only a handful of shows have lasted more than two seasons while genuinely centering queer women, The L Word being a part of the very few. This show lasted for six seasons and was the first show that featured dynamic lesbian characters. It even received a sequel but was canceled after the 3rd season due to the merger of Showtime & Paramount+ and low viewership. Shows—presented on streaming services—like I Am Not Okay with This, Everything Now, and First Kill featured diverse casts, were well-received by audiences and spotlighted queer female leads. Despite their promise, all were cancelled after just one season, which makes it the least bit surprising that frustrated viewers would flood the social media accounts of streaming platforms like Netflix, demanding the renewal of these shows and calling for more WLW representation on-screen.

This constant cancellation makes it seem that queer women are not worthy of screen time and do not need representation. While there are shows that haven’t been cancelled and include lesbian characters such as teen shows Heartstopper and Heartbreak High, shows that focus specifically on a WLW relationships and doesn’t treat them as a subplot must be created and survive more than a season.

It’s long overdue for shows featuring queer women to portray them as more than side characters or figures bound for tortured love. Time and time again queer women have been written by men or straight creators, perpetuating misrepresentation. Without pressure from audiences on streaming platforms and the film industry—or without queer female writers being given the space to create authentic stories—we’ll continue to struggle to find meaningful queer female media to cozy up to.