Queer Joy in Scary Movies? The Truth About Horror & LGBTQ Youth

Horror has always been queer. We just didn't have the language to see it until now.

Welcome to More Human, More Kind, the podcast helping parents of LGBTQ+ kids move from fear to fierce allyship and feel less alone and more informed so you can protect what matters, raise brave kids, and spark collective change. I'm Heather Hester.

Let's get started. In today's episode, you'll discover how horror films historically coded queerness as monstrous. You'll learn how LGBTQ communities reclaimed horror as a site of joy and resistance, and you'll see why horror still matters for queer youth today. And stick around for today's Unlearn, where I will break the myth that Horror only teaches fear. Welcome back to More Human, More Kind. I'm Heather Hester, and today we are exploring the surprising connection between horror villains and queerness. And I am so excited about this topic today and actually this week's topics. These were really fun to research. These were really fun to talk with my kids about. So I think you are, you are in for a treat. So before we jump in, I also just wanna take a moment to celebrate 6 years. Today is officially 6 years of creating, hosting, and producing this podcast. When I launched what was originally Just Breathe Parenting Your LGBTQ Teen, I had no idea the magnitude of this little idea, the extraordinary people that I would get to meet both as guests and, and you. I had no idea the beauty and the magic that it would bring into my life, the many ways I would evolve and grow, as would my family. I had no idea how much I would genuinely love doing something that once seemed so far out of my comfort zone and something that started very much as a passion project and is now one of my very favorite parts of my business. So I just wanna thank you, whether you are brand new or you have been here since the very, very beginning. It really means the world to me and I am endlessly grateful. So back to our topic of exploring the surprising connection between horror villains and queerness. If you've ever wondered why so many queer kids love scary movies, this episode today is for you. Horror has always been about more than fear. It's been about survival, transformation, and visibility. In this episode, you will discover how queer coding shaped film history, how LGBTQ communities reclaimed horror as a space of joy and resistance, and why these stories still matter for queer youth today. The thought of horror movies may bring up memories of fear and violence, and even perhaps the terror that Jason, Freddy, or Michael imprinted on your soul like it did mine for sure. But what if they're actually about longing, identity, and belonging? What if the monster isn't the villain, but the only character brave enough to live in their truth? I know that's a crazy sounding thought, but stick with me. And let's start with a little bit of history. From the earliest days of cinema, queerness has lived in the shadows of horror. Remember, we talked about this just a few episodes ago. And Nosferatu, both in 1922, the original version, and last year's version, 2024, the vampire's hidden appetite mirrors forbidden desire. I remember Connor really looking forward to seeing the remake last year, so I asked him if he thought that this statement was an accurate representation of the film, and he said that it is really the film— the films, both of them— are a much more nuanced look at the spectrum of sexuality. He actually shared a cool article that I will link in the show notes on Rue Morgue dot com that gave a really detailed and intense summary, which ended with It transforms— meaning the movie— the movie transforms vampires from purely being metaphorical of sexual liberation to a complex, darker figure that makes them feel monstrous once more. So clearly very nuanced. Alfred Hitchcock's villains were coded as effeminate. Unstable, other. Think about the characters of Norman Bates in Psycho or Bruno in Strangers on a Train. What traits can you think of were used to code or to mask? And of course, this list would not be complete without Disney because they borrowed some of the same tropes for their iconic villains. Ursula's drag queen glam modeled after Divine. Captain Hook's theatrical flourishes. Scar's purring voice. These weren't accidents. They were shorthand for outsider. Film scholar Harry Benshoff wrote in Monsters in the Closet that for decades Hollywood's monsters stood in for queer queerness, creative coding for what society deemed dangerous, alluring, unnatural. The monster became the mirror for everything society feared about nonconformity. It became the way to write about, to acknowledge, to give voice to queerness. Even today, The Trevor Project's 2022 media survey found that LGBTQ teens are more more likely than their peers to name horror as their favorite genre. Why is this? Well, it's probably because it gives them language for the fears they already know too well: being hunted, hidden, and hated for who they are. When you identify with the monster, you finally see yourself on screen. Even if you're the villain. Reclaiming that space has been so powerful. Queer creators have turned horror's coded language into celebration. Don Mancini, the gay creator of Child's Play, turned a murderous doll into a commentary on chosen family. The 1999 cult film But I'm a Cheerleader parodied conversion therapy using camp and horror tropes. And more recently, shows like American Horror Story and films like Hellraiser and Fear Street have openly embraced actual queer characters, no longer hiding behind the subtext. Horror offers what psychologist Dr. Matthias Klassen calls a safe rehearsal of fear. You face danger, survive it, and feel stronger for it. For queer youth, that's not just catharsis. It's practice for resilience in a world that still too often feels unsafe. So parents, while we may have frightening, unpleasant, or otherwise negative experiences with horror films, from our younger years, most of our kids do not share that. So this is another opportunity to reframe, to take a breath and lean into curiosity, even if it's super uncomfortable. Here are 4 things that you can do. First, don't dismiss this obsession. Ask your teen what they love about horror. Often it's not the gore, it's the metaphor. Ask questions to understand and listen to their answers. The second thing you can do is to see horror as a safe lab. It's where they can face fear, explore identity, and practice survival. The third thing you can do is share empowering titles, films like Jennifer's Body, Hellraiser and Netflix's Fear Street trilogy blend horror with queer empowerment and agency. And finally, the fourth thing that you can do, if you can stand it, is watch the films together and ask them questions like, who did you root for? And what felt familiar to you? When I first asked Connor years ago, why he liked horror so much, I really expected him to talk about the jump scares or the special effects. Instead, he said, "Because the monster always survives longer than you think." That answer stopped me in my tracks. He didn't see the monster as evil. He saw endurance, creativity, and difference. It made me realize horror wasn't his escape. It was his mirror. Horror is about survival, and survival is something queer people have always known. It's about living through fear, being misjudged, and still choosing to exist beautifully, loudly, and defiantly. That's why this genre resonates, not because it terrifies, but because it mirrors resilience. For parents, this means our job isn't to eliminate fear. It's to teach our kids how to understand it, to survive it, and even transform it into power. I want you to take a few minutes and just think about What scared you as a kid? And how did that particular fear, those particular fears shape who you became? Where in your life have you survived the monster? And how could you see horror through your child's eyes as empowerment, not darkness? Kindness in this moment is listening to what your child loves. Even when it doesn't make sense to you. It's watching a horror movie with them, asking questions, and realizing maybe, just maybe, you both have something to learn about courage. Today's Unlearn is about the myth that horror only teaches fear. We were told horror is toxic. Violent and meaningless, that it feeds fear instead of healing it. But for queer people, horror has always been a teacher. What if horror teaches us that fear doesn't have to destroy us, that it can make us resourceful, empathetic, and brave? That's why so many queer use are drawn to it. Horror is the rehearsal for resilience. This week, watch one queer-coded or queer-created horror film with your teen. You might be surprised how much healing lives in those shadows. When we unlearn fear as weakness, we reimagine it as fuel, and that's how we acted our way into a kinder and braver world. Today, we uncovered how horror and queerness have always been intertwined, from the coded villains of Old Hollywood to the filmmakers and fans reclaiming the genre today. You learned how fear can become fuel, how monsters become mirrors, and how listening to what your kids love even horror, can open new paths for empathy and connection. Remember that new episodes drop every Tuesday and Friday, so make sure you subscribe so you never miss an episode. And if you want to keep exploring what it means to raise brave, kind kids while unlearning fear, join me at morehumanmorekind.com. This is where the work continues. Until next time, stay courageous, stay curious, and keep choosing to be more human and more kind.

Welcome to More Human, More Kind, the podcast helping parents of LGBTQ+ kids move from fear to fierce allyship and feel less alone alone and more informed so you can protect what matters, raise brave kids, and spark collective change. I'm Heather Hester.

Let's get started.