We are now, after some delays, moving towards the end of this amazing project. For a project about sexual identity, we have not actually talked at all about sex at all. This is understandable from the perspective of the research design – we were interesting in LGBT+ identities. Sex is only one tiny part of those identities, and among our trans participants we did have a number of heterosexuals. However, it is also probably partly down to our general societal shame around talking about sex.

However, some of our participants did talk about sex. And we need to be explicit (pun intended) that part of sexual identity is sexuality and having sex with people you want to, in the ways you want to. For our participants, their low incomes excluded them from this basic act.

For younger participants, this could be the result of the LHA rules for under-35s. As discussed, this means that people can only get the single-room rate for LHA, and for some participants this forced them to live with their parents. This was an obvious barrier for them dating or having sex with existing partners. Other participants spoke of not being able to go out dating because a basic assumptions of direct reciprocity in norms of dating. Armando talked of this in terms of his luck, that he had managed to date and find his current partner while he could still afford to do so:

I been dating in my current financial position I don’t think I would have ended up in a relationship.  But because we’ve been together now for kind of six months or whatever, it doesn’t feel- I mean I’m kind of embarrassed when he pays for things and I feel slightly awkward about it but as I say that’s not because he’s paying for things, it’s because I couldn’t afford to pay for it if he didn’t

Armando, 25, Birmingham, gay, he/him

Our social embarrassment around sex, and the moral sense that it is something nice to have, pervaded other reflections on this, as though having an active sex life is not something you should expect. Thus, Mrs Franks was:

unsure if it really counts, but there are also travel expenses (i.e. bus and train tickets around the local area) that I incur when travelling to meet hook-ups. I would not be engaging in these sexual activities if I were straight and if I wasn’t unemployed I would likely have a private home into which to invite sexual and romantic partners. None of these are major financial outgoings but they are spending choices I wouldn’t be making were I not queer.

Mrs Frank, 24, the Wirral, gay, they/them

This was the way Mrs Frank got the sex they wanted, but they did not think it counted as a legitimate need. Amanda (one of our best participants) had to laugh in embarrassment when she talked about spending money on sex toys:

INT            : … do we spend money any differently than non-LGBT people?

Amanda:          Well I’ve certainly spent a lot of money on sex toys but- [laughs]

INT:           [laughs]

Amanda:          And possibly people who are heterosexual don’t spend as much. Or that not as many of them do. Do we spend money differently just because of our sexuality-? [pause] Well I think we possibly could be argued to have to spend more because certainly in the olden days you had to get everything imported from America, if you wanted a book

Amanda, 61, Buckinghamshire, queer, she/her

She then felt the need to justify these costs as shared, or possibly similar, to the costs of heterosexuals. But we do need to explicitly acknowledge that the physiology of queer sex often does require toys and accessories (dildos, lubricants, douches etc.) which are not costs that heterosexuals generally have to incur, and that are necessary for the enjoyment of sexual pleasure through specific acts.

In the UK we have a social security system that produces such levels of income poverty that even this basic need for self-fulfilment cannot be attained.