June is Pride Month, and I want to use this space to have a real conversation. I’m a straight woman, and I come to this topic as someone who strives to be an ally and as a therapist. What I’m about to share isn’t meant to shame anyone. It’s meant to wake us up to the harm we might be causing, even when we don’t mean to.
We Live All of Our Identities at Once
Intersectionality, a theory developed by Dr. Kimberlé Crenshaw, helps us understand that people don’t experience their identities one at a time. A queer Latinx person isn’t queer on Tuesdays and Latina on Thursdays. They’re both, all the time, simultaneously. And each of those identities carries its own set of pressures and its own possibility for discrimination.
That means queer Latinx folks are navigating racism, sexism, and homophobia, often all at once, and often from multiple directions: broader society, their own Latinx community, and sometimes their own family. And this stress is not the everyday kind. It’s a chronic, accumulated weight that lives in the nervous system.
Let’s Be Honest About Our Community
I’m going to say it plainly: our community is homophobic. It’s come a long way, but we still have a lot of work to do. Whether it’s casual slurs used as jokes, whispered comments at family gatherings, or the quiet erasure of someone’s partner, these things send a clear message. You are not safe here. You cannot be who you are here.
And the painful truth is that this happens even when nobody knows there’s a queer person in the room. The young person who hasn’t come out yet is listening. They’re absorbing what you think of people like them. I saw it show up a lot in my dissertation research with Latinas who had attempted suicide as teenagers.
The Cost of Hiding
Think about what it costs someone to hide who they are for years, sometimes. To have to calculate, every time they walk into a room, what version of themselves is safe to show. To hear their family make homophobic comments and smile through it or pretend they didn’t hear it. To watch a sibling’s partner get acknowledged by name while theirs gets called “la amiguita.”
That vigilance is exhausting. And the silence also says everything.
Sometimes families fall into what I call ambiguous acceptance. The queer family member is present, maybe even tolerated, but never fully seen. The partner isn’t named or their relationship isn’t acknowledged. It becomes this unspoken agreement to pretend, and everyone calls it peace. But peace for whom?
What Affirmation Actually Looks Like
I know this can be hard. There are religious believe and cultural values. Also, the fear of conflict, discomfort, and the not knowing what to say. And none of it matters more than the well-being of your loved one.
Family acceptance is one of the most powerful protective factors for queer youth’s mental health. Sometimes feeling accepted is the difference between wanting to be here and not. Queer Latinx youth, particularly young girls, attempt suicide at nearly double the rate of their non-queer peers.
So what can you actually do?
You don’t have to understand everything. You don’t have to have all the right words. You just have to be willing to manage your own discomfort instead of asking them to manage it for you.
Our Community Is Big Enough
Queer people have always existed in our communities. They’ve contributed to our culture, our families, our healing. They deserve to be there as their full selves. Period.
This Pride Month, make sure your queer loved ones know that. Not just with words, but with your actions. With what you say and what you refuse to stay silent about.
Nuestra comunidad is big enough to hold all of us.
Dr. Xochilt Alamillo is a licensed clinical social worker, educator, and the founder of Vida Counseling, LLC and The Chicana Therapist. She hosts The Chicana Therapist Podcast and offers telehealth therapy, retreats, and community programming centered on Latinx mental health and healing. Learn more at thechicanatherapist.com.