“Does that make me underrepresented enough?”

“I am especially interested in working with authors to come from underrepresented backgrounds.”
“I am looking for underrepresented voices.”
“I welcome all authors to disclose their disabled or minority status, if they’re comfortable doing so.”

I’ve gotta tell you, friends, this sort of statement has given me pause far too many times.

I understand where these literary agents are coming from. The process of getting published is a grueling one; it requires tenacity, resilience, and a seemingly never-ending amount of energy. More than that, it is a system that favors some individuals over others. A 2024 report by Lee & Low found that around 75% of published authors identify as white/Caucasian. The rates of disabled and minority authors are staggeringly lower than they are in the general population.

Truly, I commend these agents for actively seeking out author voices that have historically gone unnoticed. It is their way of saying, “I see that you have to work harder to be heard. Let me take the time to listen.” It is the publishing equivalent of turning to a quiet person in a meeting and saying, “We haven’t had a chance to fear from you yet. What thoughts do you have?” It doesn’t mean those ideas are more valuable — they just equally deserve to be recognized.

In my day to day existence, I do not identify as an underrepresented minority, despite in fact being a sexual, gender, and ethnic minority. Around 5% of US adults identify as bi- or pansexual (Gallup, 2025). While specific numbers vary, multiple studies cite that less than 5% of US adults identify as genderfluid/nonbinary. (For those of you raising your eyebrows: I come from a family of proud jews, and antisemitism is regrettably alive and well in the US).

As for disability status — well, that’s a complicated one. Technically, yes: according to the ADA, I am disabled. On several accounts, actually.

But that’s not really the point of the prompt, right? It’s not about whether or not I’ve checked a box — it’s about how hard I had to fight for my seat at the table of life.

So let me ask the awkward question: how much fighting is enough?

• On my best of days, I am a tiny powerhouse of a human, lifting heavy weights and swinging foam swords at my friends. At the same time, there are many days where it is painful to do anything but lie down. I have required constant physical therapy throughout my adulthood, and if I ever stop, my body will break again. Does that make me disabled enough?

• I have spent so much time, money, and energy in therapy to get to a point where I no longer meet the criteria of “clinical impairment.” And while my day-to-day has much improved from where I used to be, my conditions can and do resurge when I get too strained. Keeping this shit in check is a fulltime job, even if I have gotten really good at it. Does that make me disabled enough?

• Sometimes, I am afraid to disclose my gender or sexual identity. Sometimes, I choose not to correct people when they use the wrong terms to describe me. It’s not about being closeted; in some situations, it’s simply a matter of safety. Does that make me underrepresented enough?

Did you feel uncomfortable reading that? I’ll tell you: it sure as hell made me uncomfortable writing it. It felt defensive and icky, despite simply speaking to my experience.

And so, to these agents — or to anyone who seeks out these voices — I offer this perspective:

More than anything, these sorts of questions make me gaslight the hell out of myself. I don’t see an alternative, and I don’t see it as your problem to fix. I am aware that this is work I need to do for myself. But if I had it my way, I would never have to think about these things again. And every time I go to write about my identity, I oscillate between feeling valid in my experiences, and feeling like a detestable fraud.

Truly, friends, I welcome your thoughts on this. How do you think about these terms? Do you ever struggle to understand how they apply to you?

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