Celebrate Pride with Joy

Stop Telling LGBTQ+ Folks to ‘Just Love Themselves’  -  That’s Not Therapy, That’s Gaslighting. Let's try something different - compassion, joy, validation...

Welcome to June, also known as the month capitalism remembered queer people exist. Rainbow-washed logos? Check. Weirdly aggressive shaving cream ads with glitter? Check. Half-hearted allyship from your dentist’s office? Oh, sweetie, check. But here? Here, in this tiny corner of the internet built with therapy, resistance, sarcasm, and love - we’re not about performative pride. We’re about healing, truth, and living in the full technicolor chaos of your identity, even when the world tries to grayscale you.

So, if you’re a queer or questioning human navigating trauma, disordered eating, aging, capitalism, and the occasional existential crisis brought on by birthdays or too many Sabrina Carpenter songs - pull up a chair. This one’s for you.

First of All: Happy Pride. And Also, I See You.

Pride isn’t just about parades or pronouns (though those matter). It’s about survival. About loving yourself in a world that often demands you shrink, shapeshift, or disappear. It’s about the fierce, fragile practice of existing on your terms. It’s not just coming out - it’s staying out, staying alive, and maybe even learning to like yourself a little.

Some days, that looks like marching. Other days, it looks like screaming. And sometimes? It looks like cancelling your doctor’s appointment because they weighed you without consent again and asked if you’d considered keto (insert full body cringe).

Here’s the thing: Pride is messy. So is healing. And so is that time you tried to DIY bangs during a dissociative episode. It’s okay. We’re doing our best.

The Body is Political - So Is Joy

Let’s get real: your body is not the problem. The systems that taught you to hate it are. Every time you refuse to punish yourself, skip the gym to nap, or wear the tank top even though your aunt will make a comment - that’s protest.

Eating disorders don’t discriminate. But the world does. And if you’ve grown up queer and/or trans, chances are you’ve spent years trying to earn your worthiness through perfection. (Or humor. Or grades. Or knowing all the words to Buffy’s musical episode.)

That pressure can twist itself into restriction, binging, obsession, overachievement, or complete disconnection from the body. But what if healing didn’t look like control? What if it looked like liberation?

As queer icon RuPaul says, "If you can't love yourself, how in the hell you gonna love somebody else?" To which I’d gently add: let’s start with not hating yourself first. That’s hard enough.

Trauma, Identity, and Why Birthdays Are Secretly About Grief

Have you ever had a birthday and immediately spiraled? (No? Just me and Fleabag?) You blow out the candles and - boom - anxiety, old wounds, a secret belief that you should be farther along. Maybe thinner. Maybe in a better job. Maybe still speaking to your mom.

For queer folks, especially those navigating trauma, birthdays can bring up complicated stuff. Milestones missed. Family estrangement. The sense that your timeline doesn’t match "normal" life stages. That’s grief, my friend. And it’s real.

Let’s normalize celebrating how far you’ve come instead of criticizing where you aren’t. Let’s light the candles on the cake and also acknowledge the part of you that feels sad, lost, or alone. Both/And is the vibe. Always.

Therapy That Doesn’t Suck (and Sometimes References Lorelai Gilmore)

I believe therapy should feel like a mix of sacred ritual, awkward sleepover, and occasionally a coffee-fueled showdown with your inner critic. My clients don’t come to be "fixed." They come to feel seen, heard, and held - sometimes while we unpack childhood trauma, and sometimes while we argue about the best Buffy villain (it’s Glory, sorry not sorry).

Therapy is also about skills. Like:

• Radical acceptance (DBT-style)
• Mindful self-compassion
• Tolerating distress without texting your ex
• Making room for joy, even if it feels fake at first

There’s room in healing for humor. There’s room for sarcasm. And there’s definitely room for not having your sh*t together 100% of the time. You’re allowed to be a glorious mess and still be deserving of care.

Mindfulness That Isn’t Boring

If you read my last post on mindfulness at work, you already know I’m not here to sell you on 6 a.m. gratitude journaling in a sunbeam. I’m here for rage meditations. Cry walks. Screaming into a pillow while breathing deeply.

For queer folks, mindfulness can be complicated. Being present in a body that’s been policed, ignored, or shamed? That’s not a spa day - it’s an act of resistance. And it’s okay if it takes time. It’s OK for all of us.

Mindfulness is about curiosity, not perfection. Compassion, not control. You can ground yourself with your five senses and curse the patriarchy. Promise.

Weight-Neutral Everything, Please and Thank You

In June, when the pressure to get a “summer body” collides with Pride events full of glitter and shame-resistant parade finery, it’s easy to fall into panic. But listen:

Your body is already ready. For joy. For belonging. For the weirdest dance moves you’ve got.

Weight-neutral medical care is a human right. You deserve providers who treat you like a full person, not a number on a scale. You deserve to take up space, to ask questions, to say “I’d like to skip being weighed today,” and to be met with respect instead of gaslighting. If they do that, they’re not really paying attention, and they need to be called on it.

As Audre Lorde said, “Caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation.” Especially in a world that often ignores queer pain until it's too late.

What Queer Joy Looks Like

Sometimes queer joy is a parade. Sometimes it’s finally telling your partner that you don’t actually like brunch, and you’d rather go hiking. Queer joy is just joy, and like everyone else’s, what brings you joy is individual. Personally, I like organizing things. When my spices are alphabetized, it makes it easier for me to find them. Other people think that’s weird, and I don’t care.

*JTBC I am not equating my INFJ tendency to organize and freak out if things are not my kind of orderly as anything remotely like being the victim of traumatizing invalidation and prejudice. It was just the first thing I thought of that brings me, personally, joy. Or at least the first thing that some people think is weird. Other joys: puppies (all dogs are puppies), nature, Legos, smashing diet and productivity culture to the ground… 

Sometimes it’s buying yourself birthday flowers because no one else did.

Sometimes it’s therapy. Sometimes it’s karaoke. Sometimes it’s surviving.

And yes, sometimes it’s the simple miracle of eating a sandwich without shame.

Whatever it looks like for you - you deserve it. You deserve celebration, softness, and people who say “I’m glad you exist” without needing you to perform first.

Affirmations to Tattoo on Your Soul (Or at Least Your Journal)

• I am not too much. I am exactly enough.
• Healing is not linear. It’s a messy, glitter-covered spiral.
• I do not owe anyone a performance of my feelings.
• I can be loved without shrinking.
• My joy is sacred, even when it’s quiet.

You are sacred. Your story matters. And your healing? It’s allowed to be weird, beautiful, and exactly yours.

⛈️ 🌈 Happy Pride, friend. 🏳️‍🌈

Resources and Links

• National Eating Disorders Association (NEDA)
• The Trevor Project LGBTQ+ Mental Health Resources
• Mindful Self-Compassion Resources
• HAES and Weight Neutral Care – ASDAH
• APA on LGBTQ+ Mental Health
• NIMH LGBTQI+ Mental Health
• June’s Joyful Self-Care: From Bikes to Donuts - Wind Over Water
• What to Do When Mindfulness Backfires - Wind Over Water
• Silencing Your Inner Body Critic: The Self-Compassion Revolution