Queer Health

Coming Out Later in Life - my journey through Self-Discovery to find Self-Acceptance.

Queer people are some of the strongest, most creative, and resilient people in human history. Not because oppression is noble, but because despite everything that has been done to us, we still create, love, organise, dream, and survive. We still build communities. We still hold one another through loss. We still imagine futures that many people tried to convince us we did not deserve.

Queer characters in the media. What is the state of queer representation in media and why is it important that queer people see themselves reflected in the media they consume? Learn more about how our stories are being shared.

Where does my shame actually live? Not in theory. Not in identity. But in the small, everyday choices I make, the things I reach for, the patterns I repeat, the life I’m building. Because shame doesn’t always arrive loudly. More often, it’s quiet. Subtle. Almost invisible.

one side broadly seeks to restrict, remove, or roll back rights — the other broadly seeks to protect or expand them. That is not moral equivalence. That is not “two sides of the same coin.” That is a structural difference in who gets to live safely. And when we pretend otherwise, we obscure harm.

Low self-esteem almost always stems from trauma. Sometimes that trauma is obvious and unmistakable. Abuse. Assault. Bullying. Accidents. Violence. Racism. Homophobia. Transphobia. Growing up in unsafe or unpredictable environments. And sometimes it’s quieter. So quiet it often gets dismissed or minimised. And sometimes it’s quieter. So quiet it often gets dismissed or minimised. Being compared unfavourably to siblings.

These are the activists who don’t just say “Free Palestine” — they also understand how capitalism is funding genocide..z

Because we’ve seen what happens when people are denied Queer affirming therapy. The misdiagnoses. The shame. The years wasted in therapy…

Cyberbullying is not harmless banter.It is not something people should “just ignore.” And it is not a personality flaw or a bit of online drama. It is a serious mental health issue — one that harms victims, corrodes perpetrators, and thrives in cultures that excuse cruelty as honesty or free speech.

From a young age, many of us were taught that being “like a girl” was the worst thing we could be. Some of us were beaten, shamed, or bullied for crossing those invisible lines. So it’s no surprise that, later in life, we might overcompensate—going out of our way to perform masculinity, and then expecting it from others. This shows up in: Shaming femme men, Only dating men who are “straight-acting, Feeling shame around being a bottom, Cock size , Compulsive gym goals

The truth is, a lot of Queer people have experienced sexual abuse in childhood. Not because Queerness causes abuse (it absolutely doesn’t), but because abusers often pick up on kids who feel different, scared, or unsure of themselves — and they take advantage of that.

"Can you help me not be Gay?" "Is there a medication that can make me straight?" "What therapy will fix me?" "I don't want to be like this!" These are real questions I've been asked by South Asian Queer individuals. The desperation in their words is palpable, stemming from a society that deems their existence unacceptable.​

There’s something I want to talk about today that comes up a lot in therapy, especially with LGBTQIA+ people: the thin, slippery line between self-improvement and insecurity. We’re constantly told we should be working on ourselves—losing weight, gaining muscle, fixing our skin, staying youthful, becoming "better." But better for who? For ourselves? Or for others to want us?

"When you hear labels like 'Queer and Muslim,' 'Queer-Muslim,' or 'Muslim who happens to also be Queer,' each one tells its own story. I’ve personally tried them all at different points, but now I comfortably land on the last two with a touch of playful irony."

Addiction is more than just excessive drinking, drug use, or compulsive behaviours—it’s a pattern that disrupts life, relationships, and well-being. Whether it’s alcohol, drugs, gambling, shopping, pornography, or chemsex, addiction can take many forms, particularly within the LGBTQ+ community, where factors like stigma, discrimination, and trauma often contribute to higher rates of dependency.

Let’s not pretend therapy has a great reputation in South Asian households. For many of us, therapy is something “those people” do. It’s whispered about. It’s shameful. It’s indulgent. It’s a Western thing. And if you are in therapy? God forbid your parents find out. Remember that scene in Dear Zindagi? Alia Bhatt’s character breaks down in front of her family and admits she’s in therapy, and the whole room goes awkward-silent. That scene wasn’t fictional for many of us—it

Being a Queer ally is not about labels or good intentions alone — it’s about action, accountability, and ongoing learning. This blog offers a clear, compassionate guide to allyship, exploring how power, privilege, and silence can cause harm, even unintentionally. It invites allies to move beyond performative support and towards listening, self-reflection, and meaningful solidarity that genuinely supports Queer lives.

External validation can feel powerful, but relying on it often keeps us stuck in shame, comparison, and self-doubt. This blog explores the concept of internal validation and why learning to recognise your own worth is essential for Queer wellbeing. Using a compassionate, empowering lens, it looks at how self-trust, boundaries, and inner affirmation can support confidence, resilience, and a more authentic relationship with yourself.

How are we to understand that in our modern world, at the pinnacle of medical ingenuity and sophistication, we are seeing more and more chronic physical disease? This sentence comes from the first pages of the book The Myth of Normal (2022), and they pose an excellent question. How is this possible? The book covers various angles when it comes to our ailing society and how we got here, but I want to focus on just one angle: the mind-body connection. Or I should say disconnect

Body shame is a painful and pervasive reality for many Queer men, reinforced by dating apps, media, and narrow ideals of desirability. This blog explores how fatphobia, masculinity norms, and internalised Queerphobia shape self-worth and intimacy. It challenges the harmful idea that certain bodies are more “acceptable” than others, and centres compassion, resistance, and reclaiming self-worth beyond appearance.