There are many reasons to mourn the loss of Shuhada Sadaqat (professionally known as Sinéad O’Connor), and many things that are worth exploring in her obituary. Her refusal to temper her beliefs to placate a mass audience, her brave willingness to call out abuse within powerful institutions like the Catholic Church, her commitment to social justice, her eventual adoption of the Muslim faith, her tragic childhood — these are all things worth talking about when considering her legacy.
What is, I think, less worth committing to an obituary is stuff like these two paragraphs which appeared in the Pink News tribute to Sadaqat:
While she mentioned not believing in “labels of any kind” when referring to her sexuality, she had previously said: “I am actually a dyke” before backtracking a year later, saying it was “overcompensating of me to declare myself a lesbian.”
O’Connor later said she was “three-quarters heterosexual, a quarter gay” while adding that it was not accurate to call her “bisexual.”
Look, I get it: if you are a queer pub like Pink News you are under obligation to explain why every single thing that runs on your site is queer actually — god forbid you run an obituary for a straight, right? But this play by play of Sadaqat’s various public statements about her personal life and attractions just feels… tacky… not least because — as the obituary itself notes!! — she didn’t like being labeled at all.
I have no direct insight into Sadaqat’s romantic life, but the evolution of her public statements charts a pretty familiar course: a woman with a history of attraction to men finds herself drawn to a woman and assumes any attraction to women negates attraction to men and must therefore mean that she’s a lesbian actually (something especially easy to do if you’re in the throes of new relationship energy and only have eyes for the woman who’s sparked something in you). Then — surprise! — she realizes she’s still attracted to men, and must do some quick recalculation of who she is and what she’s going to call herself. Personally, I would say that someone who feels “a quarter gay” falls under the broad umbrella that is bisexuality, but I also recognize that “bisexual” is a loaded term for many people (and was even more so back in 2005, when Sadaqat walked back her claim of lesbianism for something more nuanced), and that there are plenty of reasons why people reject the bi label even as they are obviously not monosexual.
[A quick detour to say that while trying to find the timeline for when Sadaqat identified as a lesbian — 2000, in an interview with Curve — and when she walked it back — 2005, in an interview with Entertainment Weekly — I came across another Pink News piece about her that is somehow even worse, reducing her to an LGBTQ ally??? Not sure how you can write a piece that acknowledges that someone has queer history and once IDed as a lesbian and still call them an “ally” but that’s monosexuals for you!]
Does it matter to me, personally, that Sadaqat was a queer who experienced both homo and heterosexual attractions? I mean, I think queerness is a part of her story that’s important to recognize in some capacity — but I also wouldn’t admire her any less if she were straight. Her queerness matters mostly in the sense that it’s a very relatable, very human way of navigating sex and relationships; it matters because if having no labels and following your heart and ever evolving attractions was good enough for Shuhada “Sinead O’Connor” Sadaqat, then it should be good enough for the rest of us.
As I’ve been writing about this essay, I’ve been going back and forth about whether obituaries should name Sadaqat’s queerness, and what, if anything, they should say if they do. I’m kind of landing on “yes they should mention it” primarily because to not mention it means running the risk of letting people assume she was straight — the wages of living in a heterosexist society!
But the how of it all leaves me stumped.
We cannot ask Sadaqat how she would have preferred her queerness to be commemorated, but given her public statements, I feel like something along the lines of “Sadaqat preferred to avoid labels, but publicly indicated that she’d had relationships with both men and women” could work. I mean not that exactly, that’s kinda dry and unwieldy, but something along those lines. Something that reminds people that queerness is everywhere, that many people have complex histories that don’t follow the neat boundaries and borders of monosexuality, but that still respects Sadaqat’s refusal to self-define — something that acknowledges behavior without forcing it to live inside some legible box.
Sadaqat was denied so much of what she deserved over the course of her sadly short lifespan. I feel like we could, at least, give her this.