In 2024, the pop-star known as King Princess appeared on the talk show Celebrity Book Club alongside hosts Steven and Lily. During a casual exchange, she admitted, “Sometimes you get bored, and I’m just gonna ride a cock,” describing a spur-of-the-moment encounter with a cisgender man while on tour. The remark, made in a setting that emphasized queer-safe dialogue, was largely ignored at the time but re-emerged on social platforms nearly two years later, igniting a heated debate among the lesbian community.
The resurfacing occurred on X, Instagram, and TikTok, where users began dissecting the statement as evidence of internalized biphobia or a betrayal of the artist’s long-standing lesbian identity. Within hours, hashtags demanding clarification trended, and a chorus of fans called for the artist to explain how this anecdote fit with her self-identification.
From the interview to the backlash: what was actually said
The original clip shows King Princess talking about the monotony of touring life. She framed the encounter as a moment of pure boredom, not romance, emphasizing that the act was “just for kicks.” Because the show’s format encouraged open discussion of sexuality, the comment was not censored, but its casual tone later felt discordant to listeners who had embraced her as a prominent lesbian voice in mainstream pop.
When the clip resurfaced, the online backlash centered on three points: the admission of sexual activity with men, the phrasing that suggested a lack of emotional involvement, and the perception that a publicly out lesbian artist might be undermining the visibility of queer women. Critics argued that such statements could reinforce stereotypes that queer identities are fluid only when convenient.
King Princess’s response: a clarification of identity
Within days of the renewed attention, King Princess posted a video addressing the controversy. She emphasized, “The amount that I actually care about men romantically or sexually is so small, like, it would be inappropriate to call myself bisexual.” She then reaffirmed, “I am a lesbian, I’ve been a lesbian, I will continue to be a lesbian, because it doesn’t change.” By using the term lesbian repeatedly, she sought to cement her place within that community while distinguishing casual encounters from romantic orientation.
In the same statement, she labeled the criticism as “insane” and “homophobic,” pointing out that the demand for a “gold-star” status—an outdated notion that a lesbian must never have had sexual contact with a man—sets an impossible standard. Her reply highlighted the tension between personal sexual autonomy and communal expectations of identity purity.
Historical backdrop: queer representation in pop since 1998
King Princess’s rise to fame began with the 2018 single “1950” a track that blended nostalgic synth-pop with a lyrical ode to queer love. The song’s breakout was propelled in part by a cryptic tweet from Harry Styles, which amplified the artist’s visibility. At a time when Hayley Kiyoko dominated conversations about “girls like girls like boys do,” King Princess offered a fresh, unapologetically lesbian perspective, positioning herself as a “gay ass bitch at a major label.”
Her catalog—including titles such as “Pussy is God,” “Holy,” and “Pain”—features lyrics that celebrate woman-loving desire without the detour of male validation. Collaborations with artists like Rita Ora, Cardi B, Bebe Rexha, and Charli XCX further showcased her willingness to intersect with mainstream pop while retaining a distinct lesbian narrative. This blend of mainstream appeal and queer specificity made her a rare public lesbian figure in a landscape crowded with bi- and pan-sexual artists.
Community reaction: policing identity versus embracing fluidity
The controversy ignited a broader conversation about the policing of queer identities. Some fans argued that King Princess’s casual mention of heterosexual encounters constituted a form of bisexual erasure, while others defended her right to sexual autonomy, noting that a single encounter does not rewrite a lifelong orientation. The debate echoed historic tensions within the lesbian movement, from the early Daughters of Bilitis definition—“a woman whose primary erotic, psychological, emotional and social interest is in a member of her own sex”—to the radical 1970s slogan that framed lesbianhood as “the rage of all women condensed to the point of explosion.”
Critics of the artist’s stance warned that such statements could embolden “internalized biphobia,” a phenomenon where individuals devalue bisexual identities within queer spaces. Conversely, supporters highlighted that the insistence on “gold-star” purity mirrors an outdated essentialism that has long constrained the community’s growth. As the discussion unfolded, many pointed out that the lesbian community has historically grappled with inclusivity, often marginalizing those who deviate from a strict binary framework.
Ultimately, the episode underscores an ongoing challenge: balancing the celebration of individual sexual freedom with the collective need for representation that feels authentic to marginalized groups. While King Princess maintains that her lesbian identity remains unchanged, the dialogue she sparked may push the community to reconsider how it defines authenticity and how it addresses the fluid realities of desire.
