By Jasmine Altschul
@redlineproject
When the Indiana Fever player Sophie Cunningham took the court on Aug. 5 to play against the Phoenix Mercury, she was unaware of what explicit event was coming and her teammates’ way. Action stopped on the court when a brightly colored dildo was tossed there, making contact with Cunningham before it was kicked aside by Kelsey Plum.
This, however, was not an isolated incident, as throughout the 2025 season. multiple sex toys were thrown onto WNBA courts by people in the crowd. This act and object of choice was not random, as the WNBA is known for its heightened number of out lesbian and queer players. The individuals who threw them knowingly chose to throw an item that draws attention to out players and sexualizes their orientations as lesbians and members of the queer community.
Despite the inappropriate nature of this act, it highlights the inherent connection between the women’s athletics and queer visibility. Members of the queer community have historically participated in sports, including up to the professional level. Billie Jean King, Martina Navratilova and Sue Bird are among the trailblazing lesbians to bravely come out and shift the entire perception of lesbians in athletics. These male-dominated sports create a space for subversive forms of femininity, such as lesbianism, that detach from traditional gender roles.
According to the National Library of Medicine, women are proven to be better at providing social support to each other and providing psychological and social benefits within relationships. Sports teams are notoriously tight-knit, and a lot of trust is involved in successful teamwork. Similarly, people who have similar interests, or even sexual orientations, are typically attracted to each other, both romantically and amicably.
Equivalently, marginalized groups typically band together to create a collective strength and find support networks to work against the systemic advantages they face, according to Socio.Health. One group that has been marginalized throughout history is the LGBTQ+ community, and there is an instant connection and understanding amongst queer folk because only those who have faced similar challenges to the LGBTQ+ community can understand their complex feelings.
Given these facts, it only makes sense for queer women to flock together in an athletic setting, and when you add the possibility of queer romantic attraction and friendship connections, the correlation between the women’s athletic space and queer visibility becomes clear.
There is an evident influx of lesbian and queer players and personnel in women’s sports, and this is an investigation into the origins of queerness in women’s sports, why this connection may have occurred, and how the LGBTQ+ community is currently perceived in association with women’s sports.
Female athletes are commonly stereotyped to be a part of the LGBTQ+ community. Ava Kindopp, a UCLA women’s rugby player, said that people have assumed she is gay just because she plays rugby. However, as history proves, stereotypes are often rooted in truths. Kindopp said, “The majority of my team are out or openly lesbian, gay, or queer.” Conversely, a man would rarely be assumed to be gay because he does or doesn’t play sports.
Sports environments are spaces where queer women, out or not, can go to find other queer women because of these established stereotypes.
For reference, almost 30% of the current WNBA league players and over 15% of Professional Rugby league players are out as Lesbian or Queer, according to Write Through the Night. These statistics have only been increasing since the inception of these leagues, and as the worldwide acceptance of the LGBTQ+ community rises.
This influx phenomenon, however, is not found in every sport played by women. There is specific criteria that draws lesbian and queer athletes together to play certain sports.
According to UIC Sociology Associate Professor Pamela A. Popielarz, sports carry guidelines known as the constructions of gender that dictate what is appropriate for men and women to do. Being lesbian or queer as a woman is extremely defiant against these constructions of gender placed upon women.
Women are expected to play a feminine role in their romantic relationships, but when the relationship is made up of two women, the “balance” in a relationship is completely thrown off. By being lesbian or queer, these individuals can experience life and explore relationships on any side of the spectrum from femininity to masculinity, rather than having to stick to the feminine side. It is more common to see a lesbian or queer woman dressing masculinely than a straight woman because they have the space to explore masculinity without fear of repelling a male romantic interest.
Physical displays of strength and agility, such as soccer, basketball, and rugby, were historically played by men. Other sports where beauty and aesthetics are valued, such as gymnastics and figure skating, are historically played by women. Queer athletes, such as Kindopp, are drawn to the historically male-dominated sports, as such sports are, according to Kindopp in an interview, “for all types of athletes,” and she finds that her own sport, rugby, “supports bigger female athletes.”
Men societally have fewer guidelines when it comes to body type and size, therefore, the sports men play have more room for body inclusivity. On the other hand, our society only values women who are skinny and conventionally attractive, therefore, the sports women are “assigned” to play gymnastics and figure skating, and have strict expectations for athletes’ physical appearance. Queer athletes, however, in another act of subversion, can detach from such expectations and seek enjoyment outside of such traditionally feminine sports.
Such perceivably “unfeminine” sports provide queer athletes with benefits and positive experiences they may not have ever found otherwise. For instance, many queer or lesbian individuals feel most comfortable around those of their same sex and feel discomfort around those of the opposite sex. Across the board, sports are a homosocial environment, providing recreation for those who prefer to spend their time with peers of their same sex, and many of those people are also a part of the queer community.
Similarly, participation in such “masculine” sports can provide a protection against homophobia for those queer women who may lie on the masculine side of the spectrum, but are not “out.” Rather than having to hide their masculinity, they can rationalize it by stating they participate in a sport, but are not gay, as that is a stereotype, but not every female athlete is gay. In hopes, however, these “closeted” women would find empowerment and acceptance in the queer space that is women’s sports and work toward living their LGBTQ+ truths.
Acceptance and community are key tenets of female athletics, especially among queer athletes, and they differ between each sport. Specifically, women’s rugby is a space where queer and lesbian players are especially visible. According to the Journal of Homosexuality, a well-constructed rugby team relies on a diverse skill set, fulfilling each of the unique 15 on-field positions. Each position requires each player to be strong or tall, or fast, therefore, body inclusivity is built into the sport. Likewise, the rugby uniform worn by players includes a T-shirt jersey and athletic shorts, which can be cuffed and personalized to each player’s body comfort.
“I think there is a stark difference between LGBTQ+ culture in rugby versus women’s sports as a whole,” Kindopp said. “I played sports my whole life, including softball, volleyball, basketball, water polo, and tennis, and I did not feel supported on those teams.
“As a lesbian athlete playing rugby, I feel genuinely uplifted, not only by my own team but by the broader rugby community. I also think the need for all female body types, both big and small, on the rugby pitch, fosters a more inclusive and diverse community of women. Together, the LGBTQ+ support and diversity within the sport are what make rugby culture uniquely inclusive.”
Physicality is a crucial aspect of rugby, and a great deal of trust is involved between players. Physical release of stress is also common among members of the queer community, as numerous societal pressures are working against them. It is incredibly common for people to struggle to express and release their stress with just words, therefore, they search for other outlets.
Contact sports like rugby create a space for physical aggression in a safe and regulated manner, whilst providing players with a community of peers who feel similarly in regard to stress relief.
This visibility for and inclusion of the queer community was not always so prevalent in the women’s athletic space, however.
King, the prolific former American tennis player and current advocate for gender equality, was the first prominent female athlete to come out as gay. According to the New York Post, throughout King’s career and prior to her outing, she simultaneously upheld her heterosexual cover and preserved her queer identity in a balancing act. King was married to a man and was pregnant in 1971, but she terminated that pregnancy after she explained to a panel of doctors why she needed the procedure.
She faced sexism on and off the court, and by the late 70s, even though King knew she was a lesbian, she denied it in a Playboy interview. Eventually, in 1981, King’s former secretary and lover outed her in a lawsuit. This threw an immediate wrench into King’s career, and she lost almost 1 million dollars in sponsorships and endorsements overnight. Nevertheless, King did not let this setback ruin her career. At first, she denied the entire affair, but she ultimately confirmed it at a press conference with her husband by her side. She continued to play tennis as an out lesbian, eventually divorced her husband, and fell in love with her doubles partner.
The same year that King was sued and outed by her former lover, a fellow tennis professional, Martina Navratilova came out to a reporter as lesbian, and that reporter published the information in the newspaper before she was ready. According to the Irish Times, Navratilova immediately embraced this and was seen with girlfriends in public shortly after the article was published.
Decades later, in 2002, when WBNA star Bird was drafted, she was living her personal life as a gay woman, having girlfriends and attending Pride events. Yet, when she entered the spotlight, Bird was forced back into the closet by her agents as the WNBA wanted to peddle her as the straight girl next door. Her image as a queer woman was not marketable at this time, so for her 21 years in the league, she lived publicly as a straight woman. Deep fear was instilled in Bird that if she came out, her career would be over. Thankfully, in 2017, alongside her new romantic partner and fellow queer professional female athlete, Megan Rapinoe, Bird made her way out of the closet, according to Out Sports.
Given these examples, it is unmistakable how queerness was previously handled within the women’s professional athletic world. These athletes, despite their incredible talents, were devalued due to their sexual orientation. They were forced, either by direct external oppressors or general societal pressures, to live a heterosexual lie, and when someone did get wind of their private lives, it was oftentimes exploited.
Responsively, as our society shifts towards acceptance of the queer community, industries follow suit. There is a reason why Bird’s coming out was delayed until 2017, and that is because our society was in a more accepting place for her and her sexual orientation than when she first entered the public eye.
As Popielarz put it, there have been LGBTQ+ players in sports all along, and the current “influx” is not necessarily due to a numerical increase, but an increase in visibility.
In 2025, there are still stereotypes and assumptions regarding female athletes’ possible queer identities, however, rather than speculation being malicious, fans actually desire their favorite female professional athletes to be lesbians. In acting as a catalyst, social media is a marketplace for fans to romantically pair teammates together and sexualize professional athletes. In lieu of athletes living in fear of being outed as queer, now they are pressured to come out as queer or strongly assumed to be queer.
One league that has drastically increased in popularity over recent years is the WNBA, especially in relation to its queer players. After the 2024 draft, the league garnered mainstream national attention during the season and was talked about more than ever before on the internet. This trend had increased since then, bleeding into the 2025 WNBA draft and season.
For instance, Dallas Wings player Paige Bueckers gained a lot of social media attention after she was the first overall pick in the 2025 WNBA draft. As soon as she was drafted, assumptions arose surrounding her sexuality. Outside of the court, Bueckers appeared in masculine-inspired outfits, and fans thought they saw chemistry between Bueckers and her former UConn teammate and long-time friend Azzi Fudd on social media.
Conjecture blew its top after Fudd posted on social media with a phone case that said “Paige Bueckers’ Girlfriend.” According to Pride, signs of their relationship only increased in frequency after this, and fans, especially queer fans, were supportive the whole way. Eventually, a fan approached Bueckers with a fan poster that said, “Azzi Fudd’s girlfriend sign here,” and Bueckers signed. Since their relationship was confirmed on both ends, the #Pazzi on social media is full of fan edits and content in absolute support of their relationship.
In an opposite instance, during the Paris Olympics, Ilona Maher, a rugby player on Team USA, began to go viral on social media. She posted about her experiences in the Olympic Village, and her charisma drew audiences in. Maher and her teammates ended up securing the bronze medal at the 2024 Olympics, and with that came even more attention on her. As formerly established, rugby is a particularly queer sport for its inherent inclusivity and physicality, therefore, many speculated that Maher was queer, as are many of her fellow teammates, such as Alev Kelter and Katheryn Treder. In a shock to many, Maher consistently posted to social media, alerting her queer fans that she is heterosexual, but jokingly wishes she weren’t. If you look into the comment section under many of Maher’s posts over a year after her initial rise to fame, you will still find numerous comments of queer women lusting over Maher.
The journey from King’s public outing to Bueckers’ public relationship with Fudd represents both a triumph and a transformation of burden for queer women athletes. Whereas retired queer athletes such as King were forced into silence regarding their sexuality, modern athletes, including Fudd and Bueckers, are forced to declare it. The structural reasons that draw queer women to athletics remain unchanged. The rejection of restrictive femininity, the draw of physical spaces built for body diversity, and the homosocial environment that offers comfort and community have always been evident in women’s sports.
Yet, as society’s acceptance grows, so too does the question of what lies beyond visibility. Can we progress even further to the point where no athlete, male or female, gay or straight, has to declare their sexual orientation simply for the fact that they are in the public eye, or will women’s sports remain inherently intertwined with queer identity precisely because these spaces offer what society at large still struggles to provide? The answer likely lies somewhere in between, in a future where queer women athletes are neither forced into shadows nor pulled into spotlights, but simply allowed to play.