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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.​

Much of our understanding of addiction stems from outdated and overly simplistic experiments. In the early 20th century, researchers placed rats in isolated cages with two options: plain water or water laced with heroin or cocaine. Time and again, the rats chose the drugged water until they overdosed and died. This became “proof” that drugs are inherently addictive.

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.

A short story by Corey Patten 02/17//25 “Alright everyone, welcome back to our circle of shame,” says Aurelia, the group facilitator. “As usual, let's start by everyone introducing themselves and why they’re here.” These words cause Ahmad to writhe in his seat. As if he needs a reminder every week of why he’s such an awful person. “Hi everyone, I’m Pete. I’m here because I gave someone HIV.” This is met by a chorus of, “Hi Pete.” Next to him, a woman says, “Hey everyone, I’m

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

Misdiagnoses: Black individuals are disproportionately diagnosed with schizophrenia compared to mood disorders, even when presenting with similar symptoms to white patients. This may stem from implicit bias, where clinicians misinterpret expressions of anger or distrust (often a reasonable response to systemic racism) as psychotic symptoms. Research has shown significant disparities in these diagnoses, highlighting the impact of bias.  

Assuming that forced migrants are now safe in the West is a harmful myth. While it may be relatively safer than the conditions they fled, forced migrants continue to face significant threats. Racism, xenophobia, and anti-migrant sentiments are pervasive, as highlighted by the racist and Islamophobic riots across the UK in the summer of 2024, culminating in the tragic arson attack on a hotel housing migrants.

Stigma often leads therapists to view sex work as inherently harmful, framing it as the source of a client’s distress rather than examining the systemic and societal issues at play. Decolonising psychotherapy involves affirming sex workers’ agency and dismantling biases, recognising that their challenges are often rooted in the environments and systems they navigate, not the work itself.

Therapy often reinforces heteronormative and mononormative ideals, positioning heterosexual, monogamous relationships as the default or superior model. This perspective marginalises individuals in consensual non-monogamous relationships, such as open or polyamorous partnerships, as well as communities like the LGBTQIA+ community and some religious communities.

Decolonising psychotherapy means moving beyond Eurocentric, individual-focused models to include diverse cultural practices like collective healing. Many BIPOC communities process trauma through shared experiences and mutual support, which resonate deeply with their lived realities.

A short story by Corey Patten 10/10/24 Claire wakes to the very worst, most unbearable day of every year. Her eyes flutter open and she slowly lifts herself into a sitting position. She sighs a deep and heavy sigh, one weighed down by years and years of unresolved feelings. Naomi stirs in the bed beside her, still trying to hold onto those last sips of sleep. Claire watches her for a moment with a smile before dragging herself to the bathroom to begin the morning rituals. Soo

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.

A short story written by Corey Patten 01/02/24 Here it comes, that question that lurks like a viper, ready to strike at any moment. “Are you seeing anyone?” Robbie’s mother asks. It’s an innocent enough question despite the shame it draws forth. He quickly answers, “No.” Then because a justification is required, “None of the guys I meet get me.” A quiet pause. “It’s alright. You don’t want one of those guys whose only personality is gay,” adds Robbie’s father. Robbie doesn’t

Embracing bisexuality often comes with unique challenges, including invisibility, invalidation, and pressure to “prove” your identity. This blog explores the emotional journey of accepting bisexuality in a world shaped by binaries, Queerphobia, and misunderstanding — both within and outside Queer communities. It centres self-acceptance, unlearning shame, and reclaiming bisexual identity without apology or explanation.

Being closeted is often framed as a temporary stage before coming out, but for many Queer people it is a long-term reality shaped by fear, safety, culture, and survival. This blog explores the psychological and emotional impact of hiding parts of yourself, including shame, anxiety, hypervigilance, and disconnection. It challenges the assumption that coming out is always the solution and centres compassion, choice, and self-protection.

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