71. Queer Grief

Snarky Opener (0:00)

This damn queer grief perseveres, but you know what? So do I.

Episode Introduction (0:24)

Hello, my LGBTQuties, and welcome back to another episode of A Jaded Gay.

I'm Rob Loveless and, today, I am a non-jaded gay because recently I discovered Real Housewives of Miami. I'm a big Real Housewives fan. I just never got around to Miami.

Kind of trudged along through the first three seasons, but got to season four, the one that came out, I think it was 2021 and I'm obsessed. I've been binging it nonstop.

I'm already almost done with the newest season that just came out. I think last year, like, it went like 2022 to like spring 2023? I don't know, but I am loving it. It's so much fun.

I know summer is coming to an end kind of falls around the corner, but watching this has kind of helped me relive the summer spirit, extend the summer a bit longer, and just a lot of fun.

And you know, I always love watching other people's drama on TV to kind of help me forget about the things that are stressing me out in life.

So, I don't know, oddly enough, people flipping tables or throwing wine glasses, it's like therapy for me.

Queer Grief (1:17)

Anyway, we are back, and we are still talking about grief. You can't escape it, baby.

As you remember, last week, we talked about grief overall, and I'm going to provide a little bit of a recap on that when we get into today's episode.

But then we're going to kind of turn it to focus more on the topic of queer grief, which is a little bit more complex than just regular grief. We'll be going through all that fun stuff, so buckle up.

Going to be a little bit of a rough episode, but we need to persevere. Keep on chugging along. It'll help us in the long run.

And before we do that, let's pull our tarot card.

Tarot (1:49)

So, we drew the Seven of Swords, which is a Minor Arcana card, so no major shifts going on here, but it's more so telling us we need to work on the day-to-day things now.

Swords is tied to the element of air and its masculine energy, which is very action-oriented. And this suit represents our guiding principles, thoughts, ideas, and how we communicate.

So, you can think of phrases like the Sword of Truth and the pen is mightier than the sword. And in numerology, seven is kind of this transformative number.

Seven encourages us to plan and contemplate, so we can channel our inner magic and take inspired action. However, when we pull the Seven of Swords, it's warning us that we might be deceived.

Either someone is lying to us or we might be lying to ourselves, and it can also indicate that maybe we're using a strategy or manipulative tactic to get what we want. And obviously, that's not good.

But while this card may sound a little negative, it really serves as a reminder that we have the opportunity to reframe whatever situation we're in by remaining honest and communicating openly.

And sometimes it can be hard to be honest and open with ourselves. So, we really need to take a moment and think of what the Seven of Swords might be asking us to confront.

So really kind of noodle on that as we go through this episode. Because without further ado, let's talk grief.

A Recap on Grief (3:03)

So again, as a quick recap, last week, we covered the six types of grief.

We have anticipatory grief, and this is when you begin grieving before the actual loss.

There's abbreviated grief. You know, sometimes you can grieve a loss quickly because you've already done a lot of emotional work preparing for that loss. And this can follow anticipatory grief.

There's also delayed grief, when you won't feel that right away.

Inhibited grief, it involves repressing our emotions, which is not uncommon since many of us haven't been taught how to process the confusing emotions that accompany grief.

We have cumulative grief. This is when you're grieving multiple losses at once, which can make the process difficult and complex in unexpected ways.

And lastly, there's collective grief, and this is when a group of people experience grief simultaneously.

And while grief is unique for every person, the American Psychological Association says that grief typically lasts anywhere from six months to two years and that symptoms will gradually improve as time passes.

But while everyone's grief looks different and adheres to different timelines, there are five common stages people may go through as they process their grief.

And this five-stage grief model is not linear at all, and people may not experience all five stages. But they are denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.

Complex Grief (4:13)

And so, picking it up today, we're going to talk about queer grief. Now, like I said earlier, grief typically lasts between six months and two years, and it usually eases as time goes on.

And obviously, grief is complex, but there are complications that can prolong the grief. And some signs of this are when a year has passed by and you:

• Feel as if a part of yourself is lost or has died
• Don't believe that the loss has occurred
• Avoid reminders of the loss
• Experience intense emotional pain relating to the loss that interferes with daily living
• Feel emotionally numb, lonely, or as if your life doesn't have meaning or purpose
• Or if you find it difficult to live life, make plans with friends, participate in activities you enjoy, or make decisions for the future

And this type of complicated grief can be a result of a few other types of grief.

We have absent grief.

This is when you don't show outward signs of grief, and this could be because you're frozen in denial and you can't begin processing your loss.

Another type is also ambiguous loss.

And this is when there's a lack of closure associated around your loss. So, an example of this is when someone is presumed dead but their body hasn't been found.

Also, ambiguous loss includes grieving a loved one who's still alive or out of reach.

Now, the Cleveland Clinic cites deportation and incarceration as examples of this, but I feel like this could also extend to a breakup.

Specifically, if someone breaks up with you out of the blue and there's no real closure around the breakup.

We also have traumatic grief.

This occurs when you're processing trauma and grief together, and this usually involves losses that happen under horrific, unpredictable circumstances, like natural disasters, accidents, or violent deaths.

And understandably, this kind of loss can also result in PTSD.

And lastly, there's disenfranchised grief.

And this is when society doesn't consider a loss worthy of grief. And this can be especially isolating when you're grieving, but others feel it isn't valid.

So, an example of this would be losing a same-sex partner. And this type of grief also involves deaths that society considers taboo, like deaths from suicide and drug overdoses.

And disenfranchised grief is going to launch us into today's topic on queer grief.

The Intersectionality of Disenfranchised Grief and Queer Grief (6:18)

Now obviously, grief is a universal human experience that everyone, regardless of gender or sexuality, will face at some point in life. It's inevitable.

But like we talked about last week, how we process grief is unique to each of us, and unsurprisingly, there is a lot of grief involved in the LGBTQ+ experience.

Here's a quote from a 2022 article published in the Gay Times titled Why Queer People Need to Talk About Disenfranchised Grief:

“LGBTQ+ people are often familiar with grief. While our lives are filled with joy, possibility, and pride, queer people are often faced with immeasurable amounts of loss. However, because of stigma, prejudice, and discrimination directed towards the LGBTQ+ community, expressing that grief is not always easy. This leads to what is known as disenfranchised grief.”

And that being said, LGBTQ+ people have experienced disenfranchised grief throughout history and continue to struggle with it today.

In fact, one of the most widespread examples of disenfranchised grief as it relates to the LGBTQ+ community is the HIV/AIDS crisis in the 80s.

You know, around the world, it wiped out an entire generation of gay men.

And in the United States, we all know how sympathetic the Reagan and Bush administrations were to those suffering with HIV and AIDS. And that's sarcasm, by the way, people.

But in all seriousness, there was a fear and stigma associated with HIV and being gay, which was perpetuated by the media and government.

Some families ostracized and cut off the queer community that previously surrounded someone who had died or was dying because of AIDS-related complications.

And it wasn't uncommon for the parents of someone dying from AIDS-related complications to cut off their partners so that they couldn't be with them in the end because they didn't want it exposed that their child was gay or had AIDS.

So, LGBTQ+ people weren't able to partake in funerals or express their emotions over loved ones.

Now, obviously, decades later, we have more effective treatments for HIV and AIDS, and HIV is now a chronic condition, not a terminal one.

We also have more queer representation in the media, and despite the Supreme Court rulings, the majority of Americans are supportive of LGBTQ+ people.

But that doesn't mitigate the fear of stigma and rejection. LGBTQ+ people are still afraid to be open about their sexuality and gender identity, which makes sense because there has been some scary stuff going on lately regarding increased violence aimed at the LGBTQ+ community, and more and more anti-LGBTQ+ legislation being passed.

And like I said earlier, there's a lot of grief associated with the LGBTQ+ experience. So much so that there's actually a term called queer grief.

What is Queer Grief? (8:49)

Now there's not a standardized definition for this word, but there are a handful of studies and articles related to this concept.

And to kick it off with queer grief, here's an excerpt from Grief Recovery Center:

“Why is there so much grief involved in the LGBTQ experience? People fear what they don’t understand, and until recently, our society was extremely fearful of queer people. Every queer person has a story of hate that they’ve faced. Knowing that you’re going to be exposed to the worst in people just because of who you love is devastating.

Our society is based on heteronormativity – the idea that we are all heterosexual unless we declare otherwise. This automatically “others” queer people. Queer people are then left with the choice to come out and face discrimination, or stay in the closet and not be able to be their true self. It is lonely to be different, especially as a young person.

LGBTQ kids grow up and often know that there’s something different about them. We’re constantly fed the message that being LGBTQ is weird or shameful, and even though those cultural messages are shifting somewhat, they’re still hard to unlearn.”

And you know, when you're coming to terms with your sexuality, there is so much fear and confusion and uncertainty.

And as a result, we tend to spend a long time hiding a major part of who we are, which causes many complex feelings, including grief.

In fact, there are so many grief-worthy situations that accompany the LGBTQ+ experience. And here's a few that may sound familiar to you:

• The fear of losing your family and friends for being your authentic self
• Growing up knowing you're different, but not being able to explain why
• Being queer in a heteronormative world
• And living in constant fear of being in danger and dealing with hate directed at you

And that's some heavy stuff that takes a toll on us.

Queer Grief is Expected (10:29)

And because of this, many of us grew up being lonely and afraid.

So even after we come out and feel more confident being our authentic selves, we may still grieve what we never had growing up and feeling like part of our childhood was robbed.

It's sad to contemplate what could have been if things were different, and heartbreaking to realize we deserved love, but so many of us didn't get the love and support we needed as queer children.

In fact, in a 2022 thesis titled Disenfranchised Grief in Queer Companionship and Chosen Family, Derek Lowell Corns asserts that it seems inevitable that queer people will experience several kinds of grief during their lifetime, including:

• The grief of biological family relationships due to family rejection
• The loss of a friend in the LGBTQ+ community to suicide or murder
• And the bereavement of a lost adolescence

He even goes on to write that, for queer people, grief isn't just experienced, it's expected. Also, there's a grief of losing a partner.

Now, obviously losing a partner, gay or straight, will result in grief, but for same-sex partners, for a long time, we didn't have the same rights that straight people did when it came to health care and arrangements.

You know, same-sex marriage wasn't legalized until 2015 and legislation varied state by state regarding the legal recognition of same-sex partners.

So, if someone's same-sex partner was sick in the hospital, they might not have had any say in their care or arrangements. You know, the disapproving in-laws might swoop in and exile the surviving partner.

You know, here's another example: someone might not be out at work so they can't openly grieve their same-sex partner through bereavement leave.

Or maybe when their loved one passes, they hear other people say that they're in hell because being gay is quote unquote a sin. And somewhat separate from that, let's talk about breakups.

Now, this isn't coming from research or academic studies. This is purely my own thinking and opinion, but I wouldn't be surprised if those feelings of grief post-breakup are more complex for LGBTQ+ people.

I mean, think about it, for the heteros, finding like-minded straight people are like a dime a dozen. And not to diminish that grief, but I feel like if I were straight, I'd feel a little less hopeless after a breakup.

I might have more optimism when it comes to finding a like-minded partner. Plus, you see straight couples everywhere, so those kinds of relationships are reinforced.

But for LGBTQ+ people, you're trying to find a like-minded partner in an already very small community.

I mean, in 2022, only 7% of Americans identified as being LGBTQ+, and that's all-encompassing of the community across all generations.

But now assume you're someone like me, who is someone who wants a monogamous relationship. So that 7% goes down, and I'm just making up numbers, but let's say it goes down by 1%.

So, we're at 6% there. But guess what? I also want to have kids someday, so let's take that down another 1%. So, we're at 5% now.

But how many of those remaining LGBTQ+ identifying individuals are already in committed relationships? So, let's take that down another percent. I'm left with a 4% dating pool.

And keep in mind that's across the country, not even in my own state, let alone city. I've got 4% of people I can try to make it work with.

So, when a relationship doesn't work out, it can feel even more isolating, because you think, oh my god, I really got along with this person and it didn't work out, and I have such a limited dating pool.

So, am I ever going to find that person for me? And I think I might have brought this up in a past episode, but my straight friends think it's weird that LGBTQ+ people sometimes stay friends with their exes.

But again, you have such a small pool of like-minded people that you get along with, so even if something doesn't work out romantically with someone, you may want to stay friends with them, just because it can be hard to find your crowd within the community.

In fact, going back to Derek Lowell Corn's thesis, he states that the lines of intimacy can be blurred for queer people and that it is common for close friends to be ex-partners, current sexual partners, aromantic or asexual life partners, polyamorous relationships, as well as traditional cis-heteronormative roles such as platonic close friends, monogamous, unmarried life partners, or traditionally married couples.

So, there are all these various sources of grief associated with being LGBTQ+ that can create a compounding effect.

Here's another excerpt from Grief Recovery Center:

“Grappling with grief is complicated, heavy work. It can also be complicated by the fact that you might not feel overwhelming grief all of the time. Many LGBTQ people have been forced to live in a survival state for so long, they may not have time to look at or process those hard feelings.

It’s easier to shove them down and keep moving until you get a chance to slow down. When you’re grieving, especially when you’ve been grieving for a lifetime, you won’t feel all grief all the time. You’ll feel the whole range of human emotions, including grief. It can be hard to tease out what grief is when you’ve been living with it for so long.”

The Need for Second Adolescence in Adulthood (15:03)

Now, obviously, with those different causes of specific grief we mentioned before, there is specific work to do to work through that grief, as complicated as it may be.

But let's turn our attention back to that core grief we may still be carrying with us from growing up gay.

In June 2023 Adam James Cohen, a licensed psychotherapist, published an article in Psychology Today titled The Grief in Queer Healing.

In it, Cohen writes that, unsurprisingly, we accrue deep wounds of shame for feeling different than what the world told us we should be.

In response, many of us hid, denied, were unconscious to, or tried to change who we were, and many of us missed out on meaningful experiences our cisgender straight peers had access to.

So as a result, many of us need to go through a second adolescence in adulthood, and this is important since adolescence is a vital life stage in regards to self and identity development.

In addition to physiological maturation, this period in a human's life is marked by immense potential for psychological and social development.

And the emergence of sexual and romantic identities is a cornerstone of adolescent development.

But for LGBTQ+ people, this experience is complicated by discovering sexual and romantic identities, and potentially gender identities, that differ from what we were socialized to believe we should inhabit.

Because of this, many of us experienced an adolescence marked by significant interruptions to our healthy development, which resulted in missing out on Integral psychosocial developmental experiences and suffering from the trauma of chronic shame caused by anti-queerness.

And as a result, as LGBTQ+ adults post-coming out, we might feel stunted, underdeveloped, and behind in comparison to our cisgender heterosexual peers.

Many of us even express feeling as though we're teenagers when we begin to pursue dating, relationships, and authenticity as adults.

So, Cohen defined second adolescence as a developmental life stage LGBTQ+ adults move through in adulthood after growing up in an anti-queer world.

Essentially, it's a framework for queer healing and liberation that invites understanding the wounding anti-queerness causes for LGBTQ+ people growing up, and what we can do about it in adulthood.

And to undergo the second adolescence, there are two overarching tasks we need to engage with. First, we must address the experiences our younger selves missed.

And we can do this by gaining these missed experiences, you know, like first kisses, dates, relationships, sexual experiences, having our identities be known within important relationships, and authentically dressing and expressing ourselves.

And we can also do this by reckoning with what it means to have missed those experiences in our first adolescence while acknowledging and processing feelings of grief.

And second, we must address our internalized anti-queerness.

And this involves exploring our exposure to anti-queer messages growing up and how these impacted our younger selves, you know, like the internalization of shame-based beliefs about ourselves, gender, sexuality, and relationships, examining the ways in which these internalized anti-queer beliefs may still be operating within us, dictating decisions we make and feelings we hold about ourselves.

And finally, we need to gradually begin the work of unlearning limiting internalized beliefs and inviting ones of affirmation and validation.

Heal from Queer Grief (18:05)

And let's circle back to addressing the experiences our younger selves missed, specifically the part about processing feelings of grief.

We need to make sure we're healing by allowing ourselves to grieve with and for our younger queer selves. And there's several ways we can do this.

Now, these may feel silly or embarrassing, but they can genuinely help us process this particular feeling of grief.

So first off, reflect on what life was like for your younger self growing up in an anti-queer world.

And consider journaling or even speaking these thoughts out loud so you can really put words to your feelings.

Explore questions like, what was life like for my younger self in childhood and adolescence? How did they feel about themselves? Were they aware of their queerness or a feeling of being different?

What do I wish they could have experienced but didn't in childhood? What do I wish they didn't have to endure or feel but did?

What is it like to see today's queer youth having access to these things their younger selves did not?

Next, visualize an image of your younger self that you feel pulled toward.

And really let yourself imagine them, including what they're wearing, their facial expressions, how they like to spend their days, and what kind of things they're interested in.

And more importantly, allow yourself to imagine the pain this version of your younger self is carrying.

While it might seem strange, really allow yourself to sit with this image and pay attention to what you feel as you see this younger version of yourself.

And lastly, communicate to your younger self about the experience of growing up queer in an anti-queer world.

And this can be done either by writing a letter addressed to them or imagine that they're sitting in a chair next to you and you're speaking to them.

Start off by holding the image of your younger self in your mind. Then share with them what you know about what life is like for them, and acknowledge their pain, hopes, fears, and desires.

Offer companionship and support, saying things like, it's not okay that the world and people around you made you feel this way. Validate their goodness and that they're enough just as they are.

Express what you wish could have been true for them, but wasn't. Empathize with your younger self about how sad or unjust it was like, it’s unfair that you weren't able to experience this or that.

Notice what comes up as you talk to your younger self this way, and allow yourself to feel the feelings that come up.

And lastly, leave your younger self with parting words. Maybe thank them for talking with you, or let them know that you're trying to live a life now that you dreamed of when you were younger.

Just tell them whatever feels important in that moment. Now this might feel silly, but it's a really great way to start being a little kinder to ourselves while we process our grief.

And obviously, this won't eradicate all our grief, so it can be extremely beneficial to work with a licensed therapist or professional with experience in grief to work through this, whether it's queer grief or grief from a death or a breakup.

No matter what, it's going to be uncomfortable work, but it's important to do that work so that we can move through grief and make room for the future.

Episode Closing (20:47)

And I'm going to close it off with a few words from Cohen:

"Healing is a process, a gradual unpacking. Start slow and small. And do it for Little You."

And connecting it back to the tarot. Seven of Swords, when we get this card, it's telling us that we might be deceived.

Either someone's lying to us or we're lying to ourselves. And I think for a lot of us growing up queer in an anti-queer world, that's really the case.

We receive these negative messages about ourselves. You know, people can use their politics or their religion to condemn others that they don't understand.

And then, as a result, we might take those negative messages, turn them inwards, and start to believe them.

So, we've been lied to by others, and as a result, we've taken those messages to lie to ourselves that our existence isn't worthy. But that's not true. We are good, kind, and beautiful people.

And so, the Seven of Swords is asking us to look within and confront those negative messages we received.

We need to really work through that so we can let go of those negative self-beliefs that were instilled upon us by society.

And again, it's really uncomfortable work. It's not going to feel good, but it's important to do because if you do that work, if you try to eradicate those negative feelings, if you get that out of your system, it allows room for growth and a brighter future.

And maybe that means addressing that queer grief, to get it out of our system, so we have room for a healthy relationship to enter our lives. Or it could be something else.

Maybe getting rid of that queer grief allows us to have a new spiritual awakening or renewed motivation to achieve something in our careers or our personal lives.

Whatever it is, let's confront the negativity and eradicate it so that we can focus on living a positive, happy, healthy life.

Connect with A Jaded Gay (22:15)

And as always, thank you for listening. I really hope you found this helpful. I know last week's episode and this week's episode were heavier topics.

Really not fun talking through that but, and I think I say this all the time when I have heavier topics, but I do think it's really important that we cover these topics to put in the work so that we can move past these things.

And as always, I'd love to hear your feedback, so feel free to reach out to me. Let me know your thoughts or questions rob@ajadedgay.com.

You can also follow the podcast on Instagram, TikTok, SoundCloud, and YouTube @ajadedgaypod. You can follow me personally, Rob Loveless, on Instagram @rob_loveless.

Also, we have a website now, ajadedgay.com. Check it out for more information about episodes, guests, links to merch, all that fun stuff.

And while you're at it, consider signing up for our Patreon. You can support the podcast for as little as $1 a month, and you get some cute goodies along with that. So, check us out on Patreon @ajadedgaypod.

And remember, every day is all we have, so you got to make your own happiness.

Mmm-bye.

Outtake (23:35)

And the suit represents our guiding principles, thoughts, ideas, and how we communicate.