Being LGTBIQ+ in a world that does not always embrace diversity is, many times, living with the body on alert. Not only because of what is said or done, but because of what is implied, denied or silenced. And all of this, even if it is not seen, leaves its mark. In the mind. In the mood. In the way of living day to day.
That is why talking about mental health in hostile contexts is not a whim: it is a necessity. And also a political act.
What do we mean by “hostile context”?
It is not necessary to experience direct aggression to feel that the environment is not safe. Sometimes it is enough to:
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Listening to jokes that make you invisible or ridicule you.
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Not seeing anyone like you on TV, on the street, in your family.
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Having to correct your language, your clothes, your way of moving to avoid glances.
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Knowing that your doctor doesn’t understand your identity.
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Being surrounded by hate speech, even in politics or the media.
All of this generates a climate of constant tension that builds up. And yes, that is also violence.
Mental health in the LGTBIQ+ community
The statistics say it clearly: the rates of anxiety, depression, self-harm and suicidal thoughts are significantly higher among LGTBIQ+ people than in the general population. And within the group, even higher in young people, trans people, racialized people or people with disabilities.
But this is not because of being queer, but because of having to survive an environment that often rejects you, pathologizes you or reduces you to stereotypes. This is called minority stress, and it is not cured with yoga or positive affirmations. It is faced with understanding, support and structures that support.
Real queer self-care strategies
We talk a lot about self-care, but it rarely translates into concrete actions. Here we leave you some real and possible strategies, designed from the experience of those who resist from dissidence:
🛑 1. Set limits without guilt
Saying “no” is also mental health. You don’t have to be in spaces where you feel like your identity is on trial or at constant risk. Cutting off relationships that harm you, even if they are family relationships, is also a way to take care of yourself.
🎧 2. Create your own calming rituals
It can be listening to your safe playlist, writing what you feel without a filter, taking a conscious shower or petting your pet. The ritual does not have to be perfect. It just has to work for you.
🌐 3. Look for references and communities
You are not alone. There may not be anyone like you in your immediate environment, but there are online networks, cultural projects, social media accounts, books and movies that can remind you that you exist, you are valuable and you are not wrong for being who you are.
🤝 4. Affirmative therapies
If you decide to go to therapy, make sure it is with a person who has training in sexual and gender diversity. A bad experience can do more harm than not going. There are LGTBIQ+ directories and associations that offer safe psychological support.
✊ 5. Militancy as a refuge (but with care)
Activism can be a channel, but it can also be exhausting. If you are in militant spaces, check that violence does not occur, that they allow you to rest and that your mental health does not take a backseat to the cause.
Self-care is also collective
Taking care of yourself is not just an individual responsibility. It is also looking around you and seeing how you can support others. Sometimes the simple act of listening without judgment, accompanying a doctor’s appointment, or reminding someone that their identity has value can make a big difference.
Creating safe environments is part of collective self-care: spaces where you can speak without fear, share resources, cry if necessary and laugh when you can.
Because although the personal is political, the collective also heals.
And what happens when there is no space to take care of yourself?
Here comes the difficult part. It is not always easy to apply self-care strategies if you live in an extremely hostile environment, without resources, or with mixed violence. There are people who literally can’t stop. That they have to survive the basics before they can think about mental health.
And in those cases, there is no magic recipe. Just one certainty: you deserve care. Even if the world doesn’t say it. Even if you don’t have energy. Even if you feel like you’re doing everything wrong.
Sometimes, resisting also means lying down for five minutes without doing anything. And let that be enough for today.
⚠️ A critical look: can self-care become cheating?
In recent years, the concept of self-care has been co-opted by marketing and emptied of meaning. It seems that everything is solved with a face mask or a scented candle. But no, not everything is fixed with “self-love.”
Real self-care is also getting angry, saying enough, reporting, asking for help, recognizing anger. If we turn self-care into another obligation within a system that already overloads us, it can become another source of anxiety.
Taking care of yourself should not be an imposition. It should be a right.
Taking care of ourselves is political
We don’t have all the answers. And we don’t intend to give them either. But we do want to make it clear that taking care of mental health within the LGTBIQ+ community is not a luxury. It’s urgent.
Because violence doesn’t always leave bruises. Sometimes it settles in the way we talk to ourselves, in the feeling of never fitting in or in the inexplicable sadness of Sunday afternoons.
And in the face of that, we need to remind ourselves that we deserve calm. That we are not alone. That there are other ways of being, of living and of breathing.
Hopefully this article is a first step. Or an outstretched hand.
