As a psychotherapist, I work with folks from all walks of life. Labels and stereotypes are everywhere, and if that works for you, do you. One of the things I notice often isn’t simply that LGBTIQA+ people experience discrimination, it’s that many become exhausted from feeling as though their identity is always the topic of discussion. This can contribute to feelings of isolation, anxiety and depression.
Sometimes it’s overt. A headline debates your rights or a politician comments on your existence, or perhaps a stranger asks deeply personal questions they would never ask anyone else. More often, though, it’s subtle. It’s the family gatherings, the workplace conversations, or scrolling social media, all somehow circling back to sexuality or gender, as though this one part of you deserves endless public analysis.
Over the years, many clients tell me that they do not want their identity to become their entire personality. Sure, during adolescence (or at another life stage) working out who the heck we are can feel like the biggest thing in our lives. I suspect most of us simply want to be seen as whole people. A loving partner. A terrible cook. Someone who laughs too loudly at inappropriate jokes or the one that is always late. Yet many rainbow folk find themselves repeatedly pulled back into conversations about simply existing. I remember one client smiling as they said, “I don’t mind talking about being queer. I just don’t want it to be the first conversation people have with me.”
Australian media has reflected this tension. Debate surrounding proposed changes to the Sex Discrimination Act once again placed transgender Australians at the centre of national discussion with arguments about legal definitions becoming front-page news. For many trans people, it wasn’t simply another political story, it was another reminder that deeply personal aspects of their lives were open for public commentary.
When former AFL player Mitch Brown publicly shared that he is bisexual, much of the conversation focused on whether his identity was ‘real enough’ rather than simply allowing him to tell his story. Brown himself described feeling he had to justify who he was after being challenged by a stranger. That experience will feel familiar to many bisexual people who regularly encounter disbelief from both heterosexual and queer communities.
From a psychological perspective, this can create what researchers call ‘identity fatigue’. While not a formal diagnosis, it describes the mental and emotional exhaustion that comes from repeatedly explaining, defending or educating others about who we are. Imagine if every conversation about your family, relationships or future required you to justify that your identity was valid. Eventually, even well-intentioned questions can become draining.
Our brains are remarkably good at detecting patterns. If we repeatedly experience our identity being questioned, debated or scrutinised, our nervous system begins anticipating that it will happen again. We may become hypervigilant, carefully assessing whether a workplace feels safe, wondering if a new friendship will require another explanation, or deciding whether it’s easier to stay silent. None of this means someone lacks resilience. Our nervous systems aren’t especially sophisticated. They evolved to keep us alive, not necessarily to keep us comfortable. If they’ve learnt that being visible has sometimes come with criticism or rejection, they’ll often prepare us for that possibility long before we’ve worked out whether it’s actually there.
The irony is that therapy rarely spends much time talking about labels themselves. Instead, we talk about relationships, grief, careers, intimacy, anxiety, purpose, family conflict and finding meaning. In other words, the same things everyone else talks about. Identity matters because it shapes our experiences but it shouldn’t eclipse every other part of who we are.
One of the most hopeful shifts I see in therapy is when clients move from feeling like they have the stereotypes and weight of an entire community on their shoulders to simply feeling like themselves. Letting go of the burden of answering every question or correcting every misconception. They discover that they can choose when to educate, when to engage and when to protect their own peace.
Perhaps that’s the conversation worth having more often. Not whether rainbow folks should have to justify who they are but how we create communities where identity is acknowledged without becoming the only thing anyone ever sees.
Andrew Macdonald is a Clinical Psychotherapist at Jefferson Place, providing therapy to individuals and couples across Australia www.jeffersonplace.com.au
