The Dissociative Identities of Sexual Minorities

For curious onlookers and sexual minorities alike, digital spaces can offer an escape from the norms and expectations of everyday life in offline society. Heterosexual-presenting people may explore same sex attractions, gender-nonconforming people may test or validate a new identity, and deeply introverted individuals may find additional freedoms on platforms where pictures and videos deliver messages they’d rather not say verbally. However, as digital spaces and online personalities steadily evolve in tandem, some of us are left to wonder if it will–or already has–become necessary to get to know the same person twice: once in person, and again online.

D.I.D..?

Some people may consider the degree to which others build their online lives–which can be completely isolated from and even at odds with their offline lives–a unique form of dissociation. Dissociative disorders usually develop as a response to trauma, and while it certainly isn’t the case that everyone with a unique online persona qualifies for such a significant disorder, the responses that some people receive to the mere expression of sexual curiosity in their real world lives can often be seen as mentally or emotionally injurious. When viewed through this context, a less severe form of online disassociation could be at play. To help solidify or distance that parallel, I reached out to professional psychologist, Corey Emanuel, PhD, for his opinion.

Having already researched the work of Danah Boyd, whose research highlights the ways in which people construct curated versions of themselves to manage social expectations and real-world ties, Dr. Emanuel brought a wealth of knowledge to this assertion. “There’s a performative layer to our digital presence, which invites comparisons to having ‘multiple identities’ depending on the audience and context,” Dr. Emanuel adds. To better understand those comparisons, let’s explore some of the ways that people curate online personas that eventually become highly distinguished from their real world counterparts.

Alt-Life

Many chronically online adults use "alts"—secondary accounts where they highlight and post pictures or videos of more lewd interests, endeavors, or sexcapades than they would share on their main profiles. “I post nudes and sexual stuff and I don’t want to be identified,” says one user, who uses an alt Twitter/X profile and prefers to remain anonymous. “My face being hidden keeps that part of my life separate from the rest of my life. On my regular socials…it’s clean, chill, and more aligned with how I carry myself day to day.” He isn’t alone. Many people report their alt communities being larger and growing faster than their publicly identifiable profiles. Although these communities thrive on Twitter/X, they aren’t limited to it.

While other platforms prioritized transparency and community, Snapchat doubled down on individual privacy. This application makes it easier to send and receive disappearing messages that can be difficult to track–here, people can develop any number of online relationships that eventually cease to exist and have little to no bearing on their offline lives. On Instagram, too, a small “finsta” community–the term for people who use anonymous Instagram profiles–is continuously bubbling just under the radar. Then, there are new platforms, like BlueSky or Collective, that make engaging with entirely new communities as an anonymous, digital entity much easier.

When Does I Do Become I Don’t

This poses a unique question for contemporary daters—to what degree does a person's online lifestyle or history affect their desirability in romantic relationships? We explored that question, too. “If I was dating someone who had a similar alt, I’d honestly be fine with it, as long as there’s honesty and boundaries around it,” one alt-user reported. “I’d respect it more if they kept it separate from their day-to-day life the way I do.” Sex: the newsletter also polled its readers, and 93% of respondents indicated that a person’s following has no bearing on their decisions when dating, which may indicate insouciant feelings around alt-life, too.

Dr. Emanuel agrees that linking alt-life to dissociative identities may be premature, but that the hypothesis is intriguing enough to warrant deeper study. He added, “While there’s extensive research on narcissistic personality disorder (NPD) and online behavior, research on dissociative identity disorder (DID) in digital spaces is far more limited. That said, it’s not uncommon for people to act out trauma responses online in ways that may seem unusual or hard to categorize.” In this case, it appears that the evolution of the world in the palms of our hands is outpacing academic study, though time will tell if an association between the two truly exists.

What’s become more clear is a possible connection between unrealized or deep seated trauma and the ways we engage with others online, whether via publicly identifiable or anonymous profiles. If you feel that distress from your past is showing itself in your digital life, it may be fruitful to bring the discussion to a therapist. If or when you’re willing to share what you’ve learned, both I and Dr. Emanuel would love to hear from you.