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Table of contents

Introduction

Online and offline, communities often form around shared identities – including gender. “Gendered chats” or single-gender group chats (e.g. women-only, men-only, or non-binary-only groups) have emerged as spaces for people to connect with others who share similar life experiences. Support forums, WhatsApp groups, “sexy party” invites, and even mental or sexual health chats are sometimes split by gender to better serve their members. But these separations spark debate: Are they vital safe havens or exclusionary echo chambers? This article explores why these gender-specific groups exist, how they differ for women, men, and non-binary (NB) people, and the nuanced questions about who should be allowed in each space. We’ll weigh the pros and cons, draw parallels to LGBTQ+ and kink communities, and incorporate perspectives from research and real people’s experiences to shed light on this complex topic.

A Note on Language: Men, Women, Masc, Femme, and Why Words Matter

Before we go further, I want to take a moment to talk about language and labels.

Throughout this article, you’ll see me use terms like men and women, male-presenting and female-presenting, masc and femme, and occasionally cis or trans, depending on the context. These terms are not interchangeable — each carries its own cultural, social, and emotional weight. But they are also imperfect. Language rarely captures the full spectrum of identity, and I recognize that no set of words will feel “just right” to everyone.

So why use these terms at all?

Because they help us talk about real experiences that differ based on how we move through the world. A cis woman who has been catcalled since she was 12 may have a very different experience of safety in online spaces than a trans man who is still negotiating how others perceive his masculinity — and both may experience exclusion or discomfort in very different ways from a nonbinary person who doesn’t fit neatly into either category.

When I say women, I am speaking to and about people who were raised or treated as women by society — who have endured the unique pressures, risks, and often violations that come with being read and treated as “female” in a world that often sees women as objects to be consumed, corrected, or claimed. This includes many cis women and many trans women too — because the world often subjects both to similar forms of violence, even when their experiences diverge.

When I say men, I am speaking about those who were taught — implicitly or explicitly — that their presence is a given, their desires are valid, and their right to occupy space, to speak, to lead, to initiate, is expected. Again, this can include both cis and trans men, though how that entitlement is given or denied also differs across gender identity, race, class, and presentation.

When I use masc and femme, I’m talking about expressions — the energy we bring into a room, the roles we inhabit, or the ways we play with power, care, and seduction. These labels are beautiful, fluid, and deeply individual. They exist across and outside of the gender binary, and they often offer more freedom for people who don’t feel seen by strictly “male/female” language.

I’m not here to gatekeep language. I’m here to try — imperfectly — to describe real, lived experiences in a way that honors the people having them.

So if I use a word that doesn’t sit right with you, I ask for grace. Tell me. Help me do better. This site, this space, this article — it’s not about getting everything right the first time. It’s about building something together. A place where more people can feel seen, heard, and safe.

We all trip sometimes. Let’s help each other stand back up — shoulder to shoulder.

Read my full article about Language, Labels, and the Space Between: Why I Try (and Sometimes Get It Wrong)

 

Why Do Gender-Specific Chats Exist?

Unique Needs and Safe Spaces: Many gender-based groups arise from the simple fact that different genders often have different experiences – and thus different needs in conversation and community. Women, for instance, frequently seek women-only spaces as safe havens from the harassment and judgment they routinely face in mixed-gender settings. Sadly, data shows women endure vastly more abuse online than men. One European study found that women are 27 times more likely to face harassment online than men. In a UK survey, 86% of young women (aged 18–24) reported being sexually harassed in public spaces. Harassment – from degrading comments to unwanted advances – is an everyday reality for most women, which understandably creates a desire for refuge. Women-only groups (whether a Facebook group, a private chat, or a support circle) offer a place to speak freely without the fear of male intimidation, objectification or derailment. As one commentator put it, such groups allow women to “find their voice” in an environment where they won’t be talked over or judged. Research supports this: studies find that in mixed company, women are interrupted far more often and end up speaking much less than men do – one analysis found men make up 75% of the conversation in business meetings. Even when women barely speak, people perceive them as having talked “too much”. In contrast, when women are in a more cooperative, female-centered environment with less fear of judgment, they tend to participate more actively. In short, a women-only chats can foster comfort and openness that might not exist in a mixed-gender space.

Men also find value in male-only groups, though for different reasons. While men as a group don’t face the same gendered safety concerns in public discourse, they often struggle with societal pressures to appear “strong” or unemotional. A men-only forum or support chat can create a non-judgmental space for men to discuss personal issues, mental health, or feelings they might hesitate to share elsewhere. “A men’s sharing group offers a safe space where men can meet and talk without being judged or misunderstood,” notes one men’s support organization. In co-ed environments, some men fear appearing “weak” in front of women, or they might simply communicate differently. Within a dedicated men’s group, they may feel freer to open up about struggles (e.g. depression, fatherhood challenges, etc.) alongside peers who relate. This is especially true in areas like addiction recovery or mental health, where gender-specific support groups are common. However, it’s worth noting that society hasn’t always been sympathetic to the idea of male-only safe spaces – there’s a perception that men “already have it easy” and don’t need special support. “Men wanting their own safe space is seen as toxic masculinity by society… people get mad because they think the world is already our safe space,” one man observes bitterly. This stigma can make it harder for men to carve out support communities, but it doesn’t erase the fact that many men do benefit from them.

For non-binary (NB) and gender-nonconforming folks, gendered spaces present both a need and a challenge. NB individuals – who don’t identify strictly as male or female – often feel out of place in either a “men’s” or “women’s” forum. They may seek out NB-only or trans-inclusive groups where they won’t be misgendered or have to constantly explain their identity. In principle, an explicitly inclusive community (say, a “women and non-binary” chat or a general LGBTQ+ space) can work, but not all ostensibly progressive groups get it right. NB members commonly report feeling invisible or awkwardly wedged into binary spaces that claim to welcome them. For example, one non-binary writer noted that even in women-centric feminist groups that said “NB people are welcome,” the language and discussion often remained very focused on cisgender women, leaving NB members feeling like outsiders. “It’s not deliberate, but if a group isn’t deliberate about including diverse genders, it can send the message we shouldn’t speak at all,” they explained. This has led to more NB-specific support chats and queer groups where everyone understands the need to avoid binary language. Additionally, the inclusion of transgender people in gendered chats has been a point of contention in some communities – though many, including this author, would argue people should be welcome in the group that aligns with the gender they live as. In the past, some “women-only” circles infamously excluded trans women for not being “real women,” even while allowing trans men on the basis of having been assigned female at birth. Fortunately, attitudes are shifting in many spaces to be more trans-inclusive: if you identify as a woman, you belong in a women’s chat, full stop. The guiding principle for most supportive gender-specific groups today is self-identification – they exist to help those who feel they belong in that category.

In summary, gendered chats exist to provide comfort, understanding, and safety. Each group – women, men, NB – faces different societal pressures and finds solidarity in discussing them among peers. Women’s spaces allow candid talk about issues like misogyny or reproductive health without male intrusion; men’s groups let men be vulnerable without social pressure to “man up;” and NB/trans spaces create a refuge from the constant misgendering or binary assumptions elsewhere. These subgroups aren’t about putting up walls for the sake of exclusion, but about carving out a corner of the world where a specific group can be fully seen and heard.

The Debate: Inclusion, Exclusion, and “Who Gets to Join?”

A core tension around gendered groups is who is allowed to participate. The prevailing etiquette in most communities is exactly as described above: you join the group that matches your own gender identity. If you identify as a woman (cis or trans), then women’s chat is for you; if you identify as a man, you belong in the men’s group. An NB person might have their own NB group or join a group explicitly open to multiple identities (e.g. a “women & NB” space, or a general mixed chat). Problems arise when people want to cross those boundaries – e.g. a man asking to join a women’s support chat, or vice versa. Is that ever okay? Or is it a breach of the safe space? Opinions differ sharply.

From the perspective of those inside the marginalized group (women, in this case), such requests are often met with skepticism or outright frustration. Women commonly see male intrusion into women-only spaces as a red flag – it can feel like men disregarding women’s boundaries (yet again) or trying to center themselves in a space not meant for them. On a Reddit forum, one woman remarked that men complaining about women-only events really “don’t feel excluded; they are just upset they can’t get access”. In other words, the issue isn’t hurt feelings of isolation – it’s a fear of missing out on what women are saying or doing without male presence. Another user quipped that when men ask “Where are the men’s groups?” the answer is everywhere – men are the default in most spaces, so a women-only circle is a rare chance for women to congregate freely. This reflects reality: from boardrooms to online forums, mixed spaces tend to be dominated by male voices (often unintentionally). A women’s chat or event is a deliberate inversion of that norm. Thus, many women feel that allowing men in would defeat the purpose – like inviting the fox into the henhouse of a support group where women are trying to escape the very dynamics men often (unwittingly) reproduce.

It’s not just speculation; there have been real-world instances of men pushing back on women-only spaces. In professional settings, some companies have hesitated to host women-only networking events due to men’s complaints about “exclusion.” There have even been lawsuits: in the U.S., a handful of men have sued organizers of women’s conferences or clubs under discrimination laws. Legally, sex-based exclusion can be tricky – many jurisdictions make it technically illegal for a public-facing organization to bar a gender. For example, one advice columnist noted that a company-sponsored event excluding male employees would likely violate discrimination rules just as much as excluding female employees would. These legal concerns sometimes force groups to quietly adopt a “all are welcome” stance even if it undermines the original intent. An anecdote on Reddit described a workplace women’s network that opened its membership to men after some men complained it wasn’t inclusive, much to the frustration of the women involved.

Critics of gender-segregated groups argue from a philosophical angle as well. They ask: Doesn’t true equality mean integrating and understanding each other, rather than segregating? A women’s-only or men’s-only chat, they worry, could reinforce divisions or breed mistrust. One student, opposing the idea of LGBT-only college dorms, likened it to a “backwards move” – “Segregation will only lead to more victimisation, it will not solve any problems,” he said, warning that retreating into identity-based safe havens might ultimately mask issues rather than fix them. Likewise, the LGBTQ+ advocacy group Stonewall has cautioned that while safe spaces can address immediate problems, “ensuring everyone is free to be themselves… isn’t just about creating specific safe spaces. It’s about creating a culture that is inclusive and accepting”. In this view, separate chats might be a band-aid solution – the goal should be to make mainstream, mixed-gender spaces safer and more inclusive, rather than splintering off. Some also point out practical challenges: if we keep subdividing (by gender, then by orientation, race, kinks, etc.), people with intersecting identities might end up isolated in very tiny bubbles. For example, a trans lesbian woman of color – does she belong in the women’s chat (where she may face transphobia), the LGBTQ+ chat, a separate POC chat? One can see how endless fragmentation isn’t a perfect answer.

On the other hand, supporters of identity-specific groups counter that these spaces exist precisely because the “mainstream” spaces aren’t safe or inclusive yet. Telling a marginalized group to just tough it out in the general chat is asking them to continue bearing the burden of others’ ignorance or bias. Sometimes, carving out a refuge is the only immediate relief available. As one transgender student put it about LGBT-only college housing: “People will say this isn’t tackling the root problem, but progress is slow and there is a lot of prejudice in society. We shouldn’t expect people to live in an environment that’s hostile”. In her case, not having a safe housing option meant she ended up with openly hostile roommates – an experience “no one should ever have to have”. The same logic applies to chats: if women have learned from experience that a mixed-gender chat about (say) sexual health will inevitably attract creepy DMs or dismissive comments, can you blame them for making a women-only version? These subgroups often arise out of necessity, not out of malice. And importantly, many who advocate for safe subgroups do not want permanent segregation or “ghettoization” of communities – they see it as a parallel option. In the university example, proponents noted that most LGBT students didn’t actually want to isolate themselves, but for the vulnerable minority who do, the option can be “a lifeline”.

To navigate this, some communities attempt compromises like allowing allies as guests or setting up mixed-gender dialogues alongside the separate groups. For instance, an organizer of an LGBT space might say, “This is primarily for queer folks, but supportive straight allies can participate if they respect the group’s norms.” Similarly, a women’s forum might occasionally host mixed panels or allow a few trusted male moderators. However, these solutions depend heavily on context and consent of the group members. The general sentiment in sex-positive and feminist communities leans toward: if you’re not part of the group, don’t force your way in. A user on one discussion forum illustrated this with an analogy: Would a police union let a random mail carrier join? No – and nobody finds that offensive. So why do some people insist on joining groups that aren’t “about” them?. Often, those pushing to join a space they don’t fit into are driven by misunderstanding or, frankly, entitlement. They might think nothing should be off-limits to them, or they may wrongly assume exclusion = insult. But as this analogy highlights, having qualifications or criteria for a group is normal – it’s not a personal slight, it’s just keeping the group’s purpose intact. Instead of crashing someone else’s party, people can seek or create groups that do suit them.

Pros and Cons at a Glance

To summarize the arguments, here are some key points often made for and against gender-specific chats:

  • Pros / Reasons for Gendered Chats:
    • Safe Sharing: They provide a safe space free from judgment or harassment (women can share trauma without men’s dismissal; men can express emotion without stigma).
    • Shared Understanding: Members have common experiences, which builds trust and empathy. Topics can be discussed openly with people who “just get it.”
    • Empowerment and Voice: Marginalized genders, especially women and NB folks, can speak up more freely. (Women participate more when not competing with male dominance in conversation.)
    • Focus on Specific Issues: The group can tackle topics relevant to that gender (e.g. postpartum depression in a moms’ chat, or dating as a trans woman) without derailing or needing to explain basics to outsiders.
    • Community Building: They foster a sense of community and belonging that might be diluted in a mixed group. Members often feel “finally, I’m not alone” when hearing others’ stories that mirror their own.
  • Cons / Critiques of Gendered Chats:
    • Exclusion and Fairness: By definition, someone is left out. Critics ask if this is necessary or if it veers into discrimination. (Some men feel it’s unfair they can’t attend a women’s networking event, and vice versa.) In professional spheres, it can even raise legal issues.
    • Missed Perspectives: Separating by gender means members won’t directly hear viewpoints from other genders. This could reinforce stereotypes or misunderstandings. For example, men’s groups could become echo chambers of grievance without a woman’s perspective to balance, and women’s groups might generalize about men without any men present to offer insight.
    • Integration Challenges: Relying on safe spaces might delay broader cultural integration. If everyone retreats to their corner, who is working on making the shared spaces safer? Stonewall and other organizations worry that focusing on separate safe spaces might divert energy from fixing the wider inclusive culture.
    • Defining the Boundaries: Not everyone fits neatly into “male” or “female.” Handling trans and non-binary inclusion requires care – some groups get it wrong and inadvertently hurt those individuals. There’s also the question of intersecting identities: e.g. should there be a separate chat for women of color, since their experiences differ from white women? These nuances can lead to fragmentation or people falling through the cracks if groups are too rigid.

Ultimately, whether the pros outweigh the cons can depend on the context. A survivors’ support group might need to be women-only to be effective, whereas a public debate forum might benefit from all genders learning together. Many communities adopt a “why not both?” approach: maintain identity-specific groups for safe support and have mixed-gender discussions for broader understanding. It doesn’t have to be either/or.

Parallels with Orientation and Kink Communities

To further illustrate the dynamics of inclusion vs. exclusion, it’s useful to compare gender-based groups with those formed around sexual orientation or kinks/fetishes. These are analogous in that they are sub-communities within a larger population, and they often hold their own meetups, chats, or parties. Notably, we rarely see people outside those groups clamoring to get in – if anything, the boundaries are generally respected or even self-enforced by lack of interest. This raises the question: if straight or vanilla folks don’t usually feel “excluded” by LGBTQ+ or kink gatherings (they might just feel it’s not for them), why is there controversy when men aren’t included in a women’s chat?

Consider LGBTQ+ groups. There are chats specifically for gay men, lesbian women, bisexual people, trans folks, etc. If someone organized a queer-only support group, would straight people feel “unseen” or upset about it? Probably not in most cases. A heterosexual person typically doesn’t want to join a gay men’s dating chat, because it’s simply not relevant to them (and they likely wouldn’t be welcomed romantically anyway). If they did try to join, one might question their motives. An important nuance: sometimes allies are welcomed in LGBTQ spaces, but usually in a supportive role, not as center-stage participants. For example, a straight friend might attend Pride or be in an LGBTQ forum as a guest – but they wouldn’t demand that the space change to accommodate straight perspectives. In fact, many straight people worry more about intruding than about being excluded. There have been instances of well-meaning straight allies hesitating to join queer events for fear of “looking gay” or not being accepted, rather than out of entitlement. Generally, the existence of a queer-only group is seen as inclusive for queer folks, not a slight against straight folks. As one writer puts it, “in the same way we want to see men at women’s networking events, we want to see straight people at LGBT events” – meaning as supportive attendees, not taking over. A straight person who is curious or questioning (say, bi-curious) might join a bisexual group to explore, and most LGBTQ groups are fine with that as long as it’s in good faith. Similarly, if a predominantly gay men’s kink party allows a respectful straight couple to attend as guests, it’s seen as a gracious exception, not an obligation. The key is that the purpose remains serving the subcommunity’s needs.

Now look at kink vs. vanilla. In the kink community (BDSM, fetishes, etc.), there are plenty of niche subgroups: a munch (casual meet-up) for submissive women, or a discussion forum for rope bondage enthusiasts, for example. These are inherently limited to people into those kinks. A totally “vanilla” (non-kinky) person usually wouldn’t gatecrash a fetish party – not because they’re forbidden per se, but because it wouldn’t appeal to them or they’d feel out of place. If anything, vanilla folks might be uncomfortable seeing extreme kink content; they aren’t campaigning to be included in fetish events. Meanwhile, those within the kink world sometimes subdivide further by interest or orientation (e.g. a women dominants only group, or a gay leather enthusiasts chat). These specialized spaces exist so that members can dive deep without constantly pausing to explain the basics or justify their kink to outsiders. The existence of, say, a femdom-only forum isn’t an insult to male dominants; it’s just not about them. We understand that in hobbies and subcultures, it’s normal to have exclusive clubs – and most people outside don’t take offense. (As one Redditor humorously noted, if you create a group for rabbit-loving pet owners, you wouldn’t invite a rabbit hunter to join – it’s nothing personal, it’s just contrary to the group’s purpose.)

These parallels highlight a kind of irony: Majority groups (men, straights, vanilla people) typically have plenty of spaces catering to them by default. They seldom petition to join minority subgroups, because those spaces don’t fulfill a need for them – or they recognize that barging in would be inappropriate. Yet when the roles are reversed (e.g. women carving out a space away from the male-dominated mainstream), some majority-group members suddenly protest exclusion. It begs the question: If you normally have no interest in that subculture or identity, why insist on being included now? Often the answer has less to do with genuine interest and more to do with a sense of entitlement or fear of what might be said “behind closed doors.” In the context of gender, a few men admit they feel uneasy about women gathering without men – one quipped (perhaps only half-joking) that men worry women will “unite” and they won’t be able to gaslight them anymore. While tongue-in-cheek, comments like that underscore an anxiety some men have about women’s solidarity. Meanwhile, most women would be relieved if men formed more positive men-only support circles (for parenting, mental health, etc.). It’s telling that whenever men ask “Why aren’t there men-only groups?”, the response from women is often “Go ahead and create them!” – few women object to men supporting each other. In fact, women have long been doing the labor of organizing communities, even for men. (Recall a story of a company where, after an anonymous complaint asking “Where’s the men’s lunch group?”, the CEO dryly replied, “Every lunch is a men’s lunch”.) The difference in attitudes suggests that what’s driving some of the controversy isn’t a desire for equal treatment per se, but perhaps discomfort with historically marginalized groups (women, LGBTQ, etc.) closing the door to carve out their own space.

A Personal Perspective on Inclusion vs. Exclusion

To ground this discussion, I’ll share my own stance as someone navigating multiple communities. I am a bisexual, queer man – a white male who, on one hand, has certain male privileges, but on the other hand is part of the broader LGBTQ+ spectrum – and I’m active in various sex-positive and kink circles. I also have a moderate level of many kinks, meaning I dabble in BDSM and fetish communities. With this intersectional identity, I understand keenly the purpose of subgroups. For example, would I join a gay men’s only group chat? No – because I don’t identify as a gay man. My experiences as a bi man differ; I don’t exclusively date men and haven’t lived the full gay experience. I might share some common ground, but I’d rather let gay men speak to their own issues without me interjecting. Likewise, would I try to join a women’s group? Absolutely not. Even though I’m queer, I am still male-presenting; I know that women need a space where they can talk freely about things like misogyny, sexism, or simply exist without male presence. My mere presence could be a disruption – not because I intend harm, but because many women have legitimate past traumas or daily microaggressions caused by men. They deserve a break from that. I know from listening to women in my life that a man entering a women-centric space can instantly change the tone – some women get wary, remembering times men have made them feel unsafe or sexualized. And sadly, those memories are not rare: recall that huge majority of women who’ve been harassed in public. Many women, if not most, have been made to feel uncomfortable or endangered by men at some point – whether it’s catcalling, unwanted touches, or worse. That’s an everyday reality we as men must acknowledge. In a women’s support chat (for sexual assault survivors, as an example), having men around – even well-meaning men – could trigger fear or self-censoring. I firmly believe women have earned the right to some male-free zones after putting up with that “everyday sexism” everywhere else.

Do I feel personally offended that I can’t join those spaces? Not at all. It doesn’t diminish me that a group exists where, for once, I’m not the focus. I have plenty of other places to be. In fact, I’m glad those sub-communities exist, because they enhance the overall community by empowering their members. When the women in my mixed groups also have a women-only chat on the side, they often come back more confident and heard, which benefits everyone. The same goes for other subgroups: for instance, I’m part of some pansexual kink forums, but I know there are leather groups for lesbians, or rope bondage meetups for queer Trans folks, that I don’t participate in. And that’s fine – those folks get specialized support, and we can all mingle in the larger kink events too with richer perspectives.

Crucially, having subgroups is not about hostility towards outsiders; it’s about deep support for insiders. I don’t see a women’s group as “excluding men” in a personal way – I see it as including women who might be excluded or muted in co-ed spaces. In the same vein, an LGBTQ+ club at work isn’t a dig at straight employees; it’s an inclusion of queer employees who might otherwise feel alone. A straight colleague of mine once asked if we really needed an LGBTQ group since “everyone’s welcome at the company anyway.” I asked him, “Have you ever felt like you couldn’t mention your spouse’s name because of your orientation? Have you ever anxiously scanned a room to see if it’s safe to crack a joke about your dating life? No? That’s why we have it – so we don’t have to feel that way either.” He got the point. The group wasn’t there to exclude him; it was there so we didn’t exclude ourselves in fear of judgment.

Moving Toward Respectful and Inclusive Communities

Gendered chats and similar identity-based groups will likely remain a feature of social life because they serve a real purpose. The evidence is strong that people communicate and heal better in spaces where they feel understood and safe. As long as broader society has imbalances – be it patriarchal norms, homophobia, or kink shaming – there’ll be a need for these micro-communities where those on the margins can regroup and support each other. Subgroups exist for a reason: not to drive others away, but to offer belonging to those who seldom find it elsewhere.

The challenge moving forward is to balance the value of safe identity spaces with the goal of overall inclusion. Ideally, one informs the other. What’s learned and shared in a women’s chat can trickle out to enlighten men who are allies; a men’s support group that teaches emotional openness can produce men who show up healthier and more respectful in mixed-gender spaces. The endgame isn’t a permanent segregation of genders, orientations, or kinks – it’s that these groups won’t be as urgently needed because mainstream culture will have evolved to be more accepting. But until that day, asking marginalized people to give up their safe spaces “for the sake of unity” is putting the cart before the horse. As Stonewall implied, true inclusion is the long-term goal, but it doesn’t render safe spaces obsolete in the short term.

So, should someone who doesn’t identify as a woman join a women’s chat? Generally, no – unless they were explicitly invited or the group’s rules allow it in specific cases. The respectful approach is: support that space from the outside, don’t barge into it. Likewise, women should respect men’s support forums without deriding them (as long as those forums aren’t veering into misogyny – any space can be misused, but that’s another topic). And everyone should acknowledge NB and transgender folks’ needs, perhaps by making existing groups explicitly inclusive or creating parallel groups for them.

In practice, many communities have found workable solutions. For example, a sex-positive party scene might have a women/NB only chat to discuss safety tips, a men’s chat for male attendees to coordinate, and a mixed chat for general announcements. Each serves its purpose. No one is harmed by not being in every single chat. As one person wisely noted, “If you make a group about pet rabbits, the rabbit hunters can form their own group – they don’t need to invade yours.” The same logic applies here. There’s nothing wrong with subgroups that allow people to be seen for who they are, without feeling like an odd one out.

When approached with understanding, gendered chats are not a threat to unity but a tool for empowerment. They allow individuals to recharge in like-minded company, so they can then engage with the wider world more confidently. The existence of a women’s or men’s or NB chat is not an indictment of anyone outside it – it’s a celebration of those inside it. If we can all appreciate that, perhaps the conversation can shift from “Why am I not allowed in there?” to “I’m glad they have a space that supports them.” After all, an inclusive community is not one big undifferentiated room where everyone is the same; it’s a mosaic of different safe spaces and common spaces, each respecting the other. As members of a diverse society, we should champion both: the right to gather with our own, and the right to come together as a whole – with mutual respect as the bridge between the two.

Sources:

About the Author: Gareth Redfern-Shaw

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Gareth is the founder of Consent Culture, a platform focused on consent, kink, ethical non-monogamy, relationship dynamics, and the work of creating safer spaces. His work emphasizes meaningful, judgment-free conversations around communication, harm reduction, and accountability in practice, not just in name. Through Consent Culture, he aims to inspire curiosity, build trust, and support a safer, more connected world.

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