The New Republic last year published and then retracted a scathing essay by Dale Peck that blasted Buttigieg as so buttoned-down and assimilated that he undermines a movement based in what is still often termed deviance.
Onion articles have imagined Buttigieg revealing a wife and kids, or condemning his own sexuality. There’s a hashtag going around, #PetesNotGay, that involves dissections of the mayor’s closed-mouthed kisses with his husband on the campaign trail. Really, though, they shoved the pill-the-gay-away comment into a preexisting narrative: the one that says Buttigieg is basically straight. Such reactions plainly misrepresented Buttigieg’s meaning or, bizarrely, implied that gay people should never talk about the pain of the closet. Twitter critics called his words “the most evil shit” and “vile,” and said his comments were “absolutely going to do damage” to thousands of “vulnerable LGBTQ youth.” Others acted as though Buttigieg were articulating a self-hating desire to become straight now, at 38, rather than describing how he felt in his closeted earlier years. Some users LOLed at Chasten’s reaction, interpreting him as showing embarrassment rather than empathy. The clip of that meant-to-be-humanizing moment quickly became the object of mockery in queer circles online. Because then I would not have the amazing marriage that I have now to Chasten.” The camera cut to Buttigieg’s husband in the audience, giving a slight, pitying smile. If there was a pill, a pill that I could take and not be gay anymore, then I would’ve jumped on it.” He paused for a beat, then went on, saying, “And thank God I didn’t. In contrast to them, Buttigieg said, “I was wrestling with this”-his sexuality-“well into my 20s. At a CNN town hall in South Carolina, the presidential candidate marveled at meeting children who are openly gay. T he latest way that Pete Buttigieg allegedly brought shame upon the queer community was by discussing shame itself.