This post needs a bit of context so you know where I'm coming from. I've known that I was non-binary since I was like 7, I've used the term politically for the past 10 years. My local circle of friends has a single straight-cis member, everyone else is some variation of trans, bi, gay etc.
The current meta in feminist discourse in germany is the term FLINTA. This initialism stands for Frauen (Women), Lesbians, Intersex, Nonbinary, Trans, Agender people. It has, as far as I know, no english equivalent. In german feminist-leftist spaces, it defines the interactions, it is largely used as the term to define who is welcome at events and spaces, the local leftist space defines the better toilet as FLINTA-only at some parties. The term, sometimes with a * at the end, is supposed to include everyone... unless you're a cis man, then stay out.
(mouse-over this for translation)
![An announcement from this week "Discussion: Nonbinary people in feminist circles. [...] Who can come? Only FLINTA* people." An announcement from this week "Discussion: Nonbinary people in feminist circles. [...] Who can come? Only FLINTA* people."](https://staging.cohostcdn.org/attachment/afd4930c-c2fc-4175-adc4-b6fe1843155b/IMG_8843.jpg)
How does it fail?
Maybe you can already see the problem, maybe you can't. Let me tell you some anecdotes.
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A trans-man friend notices there's a local dance class. He shows up, the sign outside says FLINTA only. He tries joining for a few minutes, but surrounded by women who are already going, he quickly feels uncomfortable and leaves.
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An intersex acquaintance who "looks like jesus" tries to visit a party. Door security stops him and asks not to enter. He leaves.
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A trans-fem friend goes to a FLINTA hangout evening. As she enters the room, she sees conversation come to a halt and everyone checking her out. She commits to being there for a while but feels unwelcome.
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We organize a hangout event. A young person shows up and hesitantly asks if they are allowed in, because they are "only" asexual. When this happened, it shifted a lot of my thinking, of course they are welcome.
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I don't go to these places and events in principle, because I just look like a man with eyeliner. I don't want to intrude. To this day, I feel like... they might just mean AFAB nonbinary, not my kind. In the eyes of outsiders, that's the default for us after all.
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I tell of these struggles. A friend, who does drag and likes to shift between his regular appearance and her role sometimes cries because I put into words what he's felt for years.
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We organize an event, making it explicitly open. The venue asks us to not show up again. We don't actually know the reasoning, but the literally only difference I can identify between other queer events and ours that could cause trouble is this.
Somehow, FLINTA makes every single of my friends uncomfortable and excluded. You don't want to show up to an event and start explaining why you are actually included and allowed to be here. Especially because most people don't bring up that you are actually not welcome. They might just be colder to you. Maybe they are thinking "what's this guy doing here? Does he belong? Is he an intruder in some way?" and not showing it. Those are worries in my head that others have confirmed.

My real critique
After the final example, we kept organizing events. The next time we did, I wrote our principles down on the house rules page seen above. One of the defining thoughts I have about this is: Cis men should also come. Maybe this is someone who is just at the start of a process, who won't be a cis man in 2 years. Maybe it's someone who doesn't want to say out loud what term would be more appropriate. Maybe coming to our event sparks the flame.
Either way, you should not be required to blow into the gay breathalyzer to confirm that you passed the bar of being queer enough.
Also, just as an aside: Obviously the FLINTA ONLY signs are meant as some kind of safety feature. But I don't believe that a sign has ever stopped anyone from harming others. The sign can't stop them, they can't read.
Somehow, this criticism reaches nobody here. I have become an outsider to what should hypothetically be my own community. FLINTA is, in my perception, primarily the first two groups: Women and lesbians. I don't know how many of them find it convenient that their supposed inclusive title actually excludes everyone but them, if they are unwilling to notice, or what. But my opinion stands: This is basically just 40 year old non-intersectional feminism with a nicer sign on the door.
a lot of this reminds me not only my own experiences in (often lesbian-dominated) queer spaces here in the Philippines as a trans woman, but also of my experiences in many "PoC" spaces as a mixed person who is read as either "white" or "nonwhite" in different countries and contexts - constantly being terrified of being told that i'm "actually just white" and being asked to leave. that awful feeling of, despite being one of the explicitly included categories, feeling out of place, getting looked at weird, being afraid of being rejected at any moment.
categories aren't rigid, and their borders are always fuzzy. self identification and other people's first-sight reads very frequently don't match. And besides, masculinity or cisness is absolutely no indicator of lack of safety - i've known so many kind, sweet, lovely cis dudes in my life, hell there's even a lot of memes in online trans circles about that One Cool Cis Dude We Have Hanging Around. Not to mention queer folks with cis partners - why leave their partners out of this? Bar them from spending time with their loved ones in these spaces, because their relationship isn't "queer" enough? And of course, that's not even getting into the so many, many many times where queer folks are dangerous to other queer folks; there are bad actors out there, no arguing about it.
We have to build safety into our spaces from the ground up by not tolerating queerphobia or abuse or hurt from anyone, the hard way of keeping vigilant and being responsive. there's no shortcut to that by deciding categories of people who are "more likely" to be "safe".
Any kind of seperatist attitude, the idea that we are safer if we block out those who are Not Us, is ultimately harmful to folks who, willingly or unwillingly, seen as on the fuzzy line between Us and Not.
