03/06/2026
I recently found myself tearing up at Silva Neves’s talk at the EMDR conference in Bristol. He asked us all to recall our first crush and what this brought up for us and, being a le***an, this was a painful memory of fear and shame.
I hold a great deal of privilege in the LGBTQIA+ community, not least that my family and friends welcomed my now-wife into their lives and celebrated at our wedding. I wish I could introduce this version of me to my younger self who grew up in ‘80s/‘90s Leeds, the me who was fearful she would be unloveable if people knew the truth.
Section 28 was in place where the “promotion of homos*xuality” was legally banned. In effect this meant all talk of s*xual orientation was squashed. I spent many a PSE class making leaflets about condoms, but not once did I receive any safe s*x advice for le***ans. Bullying was rampant at the merest suspicion of anything other than straight/heteros*xual, or presenting in non-traditional gender roles, and the word ‘gay’ was used as a synonym for anything undesirable.
I learnt to watch every word I said, afraid that I would let something slip that would give me away. I chose male celebrities to pretend to have a crush on, amusingly my choice was always a little off. While my peers moved through the tumultuous s*xual developmental stage of having crushes and trying out relationships, I missed vital experiences.
For me, this fear lingered for many years and was further reinforced by other experiences in social circles, employment, and I am sad to say, even at times in the psychology world.
When working with LGBTQIA+ clients, we also need to know our history. I and many others stand on the shoulders of those who came before us, fought for tolerance and acceptance, and who battled for our hard won rights. Older gay clients grew up in a world where being recognised as gay could mean imprisonment or worse. Others survived the AIDS/HIV epidemic and watched too many loved ones die.
Sadly, the traumas clients bring to therapy are not just in the past but for many are ongoing. My wife and I still must assess the risk every time we choose to hold hands in public, and carefully research LGBTQIA+ safety in countries we wish to visit. Others face much greater risks. Some live in communities where coming out means ostracisation, or countries where they can be legally killed by the state.
In the UK there is greater policing of gender expression, with many masc or androgynous presenting women being accosted in toilets and told they do not belong.
Terrifyingly, hatred and violence against Trans people is increasing, with hardly a day going by when the Trans community isn’t attacked by a politician as a ploy to score points. Our media organisations are using click-bait engagement to push hate-filled narratives to increase division, and mass-media does nothing but fan these flames.
Today, PRIDE is still very much needed, and I hope this PRIDE can be brighter and stronger than ever.
