Where Are the Women? Gender Imbalances in LGBTQ+ Catholic Communities

Laura Scarmoncin is an Italian translator of international texts and a scholar of history and gender studies. A committed feminist, she has been active in the LGBTQ+ movement for many decades. As a Catholic, she has engaged deeply with questions of faith and theology, bringing new voices into Italian queer conversations through her translations of books on religion and spirituality, among them is the Italian translation of Love Tenderly: Sacred Stories of Lesbian and Queer Religious, published by New Ways Ministry. (For the English language version of the book, click here.)

Elisa Belotti interviewed her for Bondings 2.0 about the scarcity of women in LGBTQ+ Catholic spaces, the persistence of male predominance in the movement, and the challenges and possibilities for building communities where women’s voices and experiences are fully welcomed. 

Laura Scarmoncin

In many LGBTQ+ Catholic spaces, men are more numerous and visible than women. From your perspective, why are lesbian, bisexual, and queer women less present than men?

The scarcity of women and the prevalence of men in mixed political spaces is as old as LGBTQ+ activism itself, and remains one of its biggest unresolved issues. I think the reason is as simple as it may be, hard to accept: mixed spaces that turn out to be dominated by men are spaces in which men do not truly question male dominance. 

This reality creates a field of exclusion per se, but we often miss the mark on the real roots of this segregating dynamic: it is common to pin responsibility on women because they don’t show up or opt for separatist spaces. Far less common is to analyze how androcentrism, sexism or even misogyny permeate our shared spaces and our very interactions–and at what price for those who are not men. 

In Catholic circles this problem is tremendously magnified. Julie Hanlon Rubio [a theologian at Santa Clara University, California] states in her recent book Can You Be a Catholic and a Feminist?, that “male dominance is so structurally pervasive to Catholic life that it seems normal.”  So even just exposing the problem may mean hitting a brick wall of disavowal and denial. 

As for queer Catholic spaces, I think there’s an additional challenge: it is very hard to accept that one can be both a victim and a perpetrator. But our gay and trans brothers can simultaneously be discriminated by heterosexism and discriminate by enjoying some of its dividends at expenses of women. In this regard, I wish we could think and talk less in terms of monolithic identities and more in terms of complex, even slippery positionalities within power relations: it’s the only way to be held accountable. 

I believe it’s time for Catholics to acknowledge the fact that, in their spaces too, male predominance is usually the direct product of an unquestioned and unsolved male dominance. Women have every right to refuse it – whether by not showing up, by building their own separate spaces or by leveling criticism – but ultimately, it’s on men to really turn the tide.

So even within queer Catholics spaces the same sexist dynamics found in society can still appear. How does this happen? What strategies might help make these spaces truly inclusive for women?

In queer Catholic spaces the structural, even blatant, androcentrism of the hierarchical Church plays out mainly on the micro-level. The sexism and misogyny it yields are now questioned in their most visible and harsh expressions, but I find that they are rarely seen, let alone interrogated and disputed, in their intrapersonal dimensions. 

We should not forget that power relations are nurtured by “structures” but lived out through our very bodyminds, and this means that a big part of the political work that awaits us is on ourselves. When it comes to unjust gender relations, our Catholic brothers must be willing to be challenged and change first on an individual, personal level. Otherwise, there is no way we can truly reshape the dynamics that make up our embodied communities. 

Tied to this, another stumbling block I spot in Catholic spaces – both queer and non queer – is the demonization of conflict, which ends up preserving the status quo. To quote feminist queer thinker Sara Ahmed, all too often “those who expose a problem become the problem”, even in the Church. But to change, an unjust relation or structure must first be challenged through friction and dissent. 

I wish that, especially within Catholic spaces, open conflict could be finally acknowledged and honored as transformative, rather than branded as divisive and disruptive, as is often the case. We have a great deal to go in both directions, but I think that the best way to build a just Church is to consider our personal responsibilities and learn to not shy away from clashes on behalf of a unity and harmony that run the risk of turning into a silencing compliance. 

Recent years have seen major public initiatives from LGBTQ+ Catholic groups, such as the LGBTQ+ Jubilee, which have received visibility and recognition from the Church. By contrast, feminist groups like Women’s Ordination Conference (WOC) and Catholics for Choice (CFC) have often faced repression when carrying out their actions. How do you interpret this difference in reception?

I think that to understand their different reception, we must make a key distinction between these two forms of Catholic activism: feminist actions such as WOC’s and CFC’s call into question the Church’s structural androcentrism in a direct, explicit way, whereby in queer campaigning this issue is often overlooked. 

And it’s tempting to think that WOC’s and CFC’s actions were somehow amiss while queer ones were fitting for how they took place (in the first case, with vocal protesting; in the second, with trustful, joyful attendance). But this is how the crackdown on critique is usually justified. 

Moreover, in the face of all this I wonder how many queer women felt torn apart in their belonging. To our brothers I ask: is it really viable to celebrate the inclusion of some while turning a blind eye to the exclusion of others? As troubling as it may be, this question goes straight to the core of the very chance of a welcoming Church for all.

—Elisa Belotti, New Ways Ministry, October 7. 2025