As the holidays arrive, there are some signs of warming representation: Despite prior setbacks and active discrimination, more festive movies starring LGBTQ+ protagonists and actors are entering the pop culture arena. The narrative arcs are classics …

Cynic brings home Optimist Love Interest—but compromises that love for the comfort of Family. Family pressures Cynic to be more like Family. (Optimist Love Interest is charming amid the conflict.) The Magic of Christmas™ moves Cynic to declare love for Love Interest to Family. Family approves; canned cranberries are enjoyed. Snow falls during a modest kiss. Credits roll.

Commercialism and traditional “family values” make it even harder to get true representation penned for storylines and characters. The intent of much holiday content is to be feel-good, uncomplicated content around a big gift-giving market. That queer characters exist in movies like Happiest Season and Single All the Way—with these casts! And budgets!—marks genuine progress. But there’s few things more heteronormative than these story arcs.

Ad narratives follow suit. In many ads, the focus is on coming out stories—which further focus on queer acceptance versus queer existence—and gives heterosexual people authority as they kindly grant their approval. Many ads speak to the LGBTQ+ plight of family estrangement during the holidays, and that’s a very relevant tension; but the LGBTQ+ protagonists still end up pursuing rather traditional celebrations, as a consolation prize to their biological family’s eggnog.

Of course, we’re often just not there. Queerness is either completely absent or a tiny bit part player in massive, sales-driving ad efforts, despite our spending power. Brands may increasingly feature LGBTQ+ people in ads (despite a drop in the last Super Bowl), but still usually feature two types: cis lesbians and cis gay men (or a drag queen). There’s still trans and nonbinary exclusion in ads, at a time of record anti-trans legislation.

Then, in many ads year-round, LGBTQ+ people are just sort of, like, there—included in a montage of multicultural models, or punchlines that have nothing to do with queer stories. And heck, that ain’t necessarily bad! Being seen where we’ve not been seen before is progress, and that’s our favorite word. And not every ad even needs to capture a cultural zeitgeist or emotional story.

I’m no Grinch, here to cancel any brands who’ve made attempts at inclusion (not while Santa’s watching and may be gay himself). And major brands like Etsy, Sephora and Ritz have moved forward and broken new ground. Still, I want to give brands a gift of honesty: For creative ideation around experiences that will truly welcome marginalized communities, the stories can’t always start with heteronormative playbooks. If you center an idea around LGBTQ+ culture, it could be more effective in engaging our community, and more inclusive for everyone, even those outside the community. 

Start with LGBTQ+ talent

In contextualizing gay stories, it’s not enough that you have a cousin who’s gay. It’s not enough that you got a brief asking for LGBTQ+ inclusion and called upon a queer creative director to depict the range of orientations and identities.

Yes, you can give your employee resource group the opportunity to step up, but find ways to respectfully welcome their LGBTQ+ perspective relevant to a brand challenge—even on briefs that lean more “general market.” (Hint: We’re the fastest-growing general market demo.)

Define us how we define ourselves

Internalize that most people refer to themselves as “LGBTQ+” in the context of politics, but in personal settings, no one really says, “I’m an LGBTQ+ woman.” They might say, “I’m a lesbian woman,” “I’m a trans man” or “I’m nonbinary and queer.”

We’re all the letters as a community, but as people, we’re often one or two. So don’t always look to create LGBTQ+ experiences because you have an LGBTQ+ marketing budget; look instead to create experiences for people through the lens of how they self-identify. If identity and orientation are to be points of human connection, consider campaigns for gay men, bi women or queer polycules. Let the target description in the brief match the language we’d use to refer to ourselves.

Define us by our passions

In inclusive efforts, we forget that many folks define themselves beyond just “gay man” or “bi enby” but see their queer identities as directly tied to their passions and self-expression. Some expressions include relational dynamics (cottagecore lesbians, corporate twinks). This only furthers the point that our identities are integrated, not siloed as the single thing we think about all the time because it’s different than straight people. Think of us as complex people with passions. Don’t define us by the straight advantage or tradition we don’t have. Yes, it’s important for some messages to illustrate differences in privilege. But you don’t always need to define us as LGBTQ+ people who can’t attend Thanksgiving; you can perhaps depict us as people who choose foremost to create Friendsgiving.

Coming out at home is not our holiday tradition; show what it looks like when parents visit their queer children and their chosen families. Show how the parents started a group chat with their child’s partner years ago! Only then focus on how fabric softener adds to the lives of that family.

Acknowledge chosen family and inclusive dynamics

Consider how inclusive LGBTQ+ culture can be. Yes, we need LGBTQ+ safe spaces. No, a leather bar is not a place a straight person should expect to enter on equal footing with gay patrons.

But we have so many places where we welcome people from every background. We welcome everyone to our Pride parades, to our equality marches, to our drag bingo and storytime, to our concerts featuring LGBTQ+ megastars and to our spiritual gatherings and communities.

Consider that we’ve fully embraced and developed the concept of chosen family, separate from traditional family, specifically so we can welcome more people in. Think of how chosen family is the very definition of diversity, inclusion and belonging.

When it comes to advertising, we appreciate an invitation to a party, but very often we appreciate the opportunity to throw our own party, based on how we see ourselves and what we love. You see this in the greatest campaigns: Starting with a cultural insight has the power to extend beyond and connect communities on the most human levels.

As we mourn the lives lost from the violence at Club Q, we see the truth is that mass communications can set the stage for anger and violence. If the advertising industry can understand its role, there are solutions to be found for peace. It means so much to be welcomed and seen, for all people: It helps us stay safe, so we can be with our families. Never underestimate our ability to change the narrative. Picture it…

Queer Couple—Urban Cynic and Rural Optimist who fell in love several Halloweens ago—invite Cynic’s Parents to their holiday festivities. Parents usually enjoy a quaint holiday at home, but Couples’ Chosen Family take them on an adventure to restore the gayborhood: They decorate a rundown bar (after a Target run, courtesy of Santa). They volunteer with homeless queer youth. Through the Magic of Christmas™ and the inclusion of the queer community, Parents realize they’ve always wanted a brighter holiday with a larger family, and now they have one.

The narrative extends past the script: A larger audience sees the story, centered in togetherness. A cold tension eases in a viewer. Acceptance grows from shared understanding. The world gets a little brighter.

Our society deserves some new stories—updated classics from a new vantage point that give more people reason to celebrate.