During the summer of 2017, I experienced a trauma that shattered my sense of safety and trust. My life split into a “before” and an “after.” What happened to me that summer was traumatic, disorienting, and deeply violating. I remember the fear, the confusion, the shame, and the two gruelling years of navigating a justice system that felt cold and clinical at a time when I needed humanity the most. I also remember the silence.

There’s a particular narrative that quietly circulates in some parts of the gay male community. It doesn’t always show up loudly or aggressively. More often, it appears in passing comments, in distancing, in discomfort.

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.