Last week, I had the pleasure of diving into a juicy conversation with two friends about identity and self-discovery. Although the three of us are from very different backgrounds and identities within the LGBTQIA+ community, there were common threads running through all of our stories. 

In each case, we had all carried around a feeling of unease and discomfort as we were discovering who we were. There was this common sense of knowing that there was something “different” about us that set us apart from our peers, but not quite knowing what that thing was. We had all experienced years of frustration and confusion, like we were putting together a puzzle with a piece missing. One of the people I spoke to told me that it was like they were playing a character in a film. They didn’t feel as though they were really being themselves, but that missing part that they needed to discover was maddeningly elusive.

For all three of us, there was relief when we came to understand that the thing we had been struggling to accept was our sexuality or gender identity. A secret excitement at finally uncovering that vital part of ourselves that had been trying to make itself known, but which we didn’t have the tools or knowledge to name. And again, we all shared an almost immediate sense of shame and fear upon making that discovery. In each story, there was an imperative to hide that newly-discovered piece of our identity for fear of rejection and harm.

As we were talking, I was overcome with a sense of sadness, not only for the three of us at the table, but for the wider LGBTQIA+ community. I know that so many of us walk through the world feeling that push-and-pull of wanting to be authentically ourselves, but fearing the consequences of doing so. That internal struggle can take an unfathomable toll on a person’s mental health. 

Fortunately, as we all concluded our stories, each one had a happy ending. Again, our experiences were all vastly different but we each related our relief at discovering community and people who would love and accept us. One friend spoke with uncontained excitement about discovering Reddit groups for transgender women. The other shared a joyful story about his first furtive visit to a gay bar and of feeling a weight lift from his shoulders the moment he was inside. In each case, that moment of realization that “I’m not the only one who feels this way” brought hope, joy and elation. Finding community and others like us is a huge step towards claiming our identity. When we can be around other people who accept and encourage us exactly as we are, we can live authentically and really begin to explore what is means to be “Me”. 

Just as I had felt sadness for all the queer folks who are struggling quietly in isolation, a surge of hope washed over me. Hope that each person who feels alone and frightened will be granted that connection to community and the opportunity to find even one person who can say “I see you, I am like you, and we can be ourselves together”. Because that connection, that validation, that support, can make all the difference. It can be the turning point that begins to pull that person out of the darkness and into the light.

This conversation gave me such a strong sense of gratitude for the work I do and the people I work with. It is such a brave thing to share your thoughts and feelings with a counsellor, to let them see the parts of yourself that you’re struggling with. I am grateful to every person that chooses to grant me permission to see those parts of themselves, and I hope that I can give them the opportunity to be truly seen, truly heard and truly understood. Because every one of us deserves that.