This is progress, and it's following precisely the same arc that representation of any marginalized community—women, people of color, queers, people with disabilities—has historically followed, in popular media.
Phase One: We're the villains; we threaten the status quo, and the (straight, white, cis, male) hero's job is to punish us, and preserve the way things are. We exist solely to drive the hero's story.
Phase Two: We're the victims; we're weak and vulnerable, and it's the hero's job to punish those who've hurt us. We exist to establish the hero's selflessness and nobility, but we're still a part of his story.
Phase Three: We're the sidekicks—the sassy friend, the wingman. We exist to supplement the hero's story, to offer support and encouragement. But it's still his story.
The goal, of course, is to reach Phase Four: We finally get to be the heroes of our own stories.
We're getting there, slowly. And while these recent comics developments might seem to slot neatly into Phase Four, it's not yet time for any laurel-resting.
The obvious question, then: Which major DC hero is gonna be the next one to get an off-shoot queer version of themselves?
If the question is obvious, the answer is even moreso: Wonder Woman. Mark my words.
Wonder Woman, let's remember, hails from an island of women who've been hanging around together for thousands of years, with nothing to stare at but one another. And as she herself summed it up so often, in her go-to comics catchphrase:
Yep, Diana's next. It's inevitable. The writing's on the urn.
But in a larger sense, "who's next" isn't the most pressing question facing us.