Allyship and Advocacy: How Allies Can Support LGBTQ+ Individuals in Their Recovery Journey
As a straight, cisgender woman, Pride Month is always inspiring to me.
It takes a lot of courage to be completely yourself, especially when others think a big part of your identity is up for scrutiny and your human rights are up for debate. I’m never really 100% sure how to be a good ally, but I’m learning as I support those in recovery who identify as LGBTQ+.
Listen and be supportive.
This applies to helping anyone navigate recovery, no matter how they identify. It’s so important to set aside your own agenda and what you think recovery “should” look like, and listen to their take on it.
It is not our place to judge or question their experiences. If someone tells you what they are going through, believe them. If someone tells you what they need on their recovery journey, believe them.
Educate yourself.
It is not the job of your LGBTQ+ friends to educate you. If they want to, that’s wonderful, but you can’t expect them to.
Imagine having to explain to everyone you know what it’s like to be straight or why you identify as the gender you were assigned at birth. To me, that sounds exhausting and demeaning.
There are plenty of people in the community who have willingly shared their stories. A quick Google search can lead to a wealth of perspectives without an unsolicited prompt. Here’s a couple to get you started:
https://queerkentucky.com/stories-of-hope-a-gay-mans-journey-into-recovery-from-drugs-and-alcohol/
https://inspirerecovery.com/transgender-recovery-success-story/
Respect their identity.
This is a big one, and I promise it’s not as hard as people think it is.
Learning someone’s correct pronouns is about as simple as learning their name. In fact, as someone who is terrible with names, I will probably remember your pronouns more easily.
And really, using the wrong pronouns is like calling someone by the wrong name and not correcting yourself when you realize your mistake.
It shows you don’t care enough to remember and that your perception of their identity is the only one that matters. It’s arrogant and self-centered.
Create a safe environment.
Everyone wants to feel safe, and what safe means to you might not be what safe is for someone else. Take this into consideration when suggesting recovery resources. (This month, our newsletter has an entire article devoted to this!)
For example, if you think someone might benefit from counseling, make sure you know what LGBTQ+ counselors exist before suggesting it.
And maybe don’t invite them to the function if you know your loud homophobic uncle will be there.
Don’t make it about you.
Twice in my life, I have had the privilege of friends trusting me with coming out. I still cringe at how I reacted.
The first one surprised me, and I think to mask my shock and try to be supportive, I was overly enthusiastic. I think there might have been a “You go, girl!” in there somewhere.
Like, reel it back, Lacie. And not back to 1996.
If I could do it over, I would have responded in a more authentic way. I would have said, “You look really happy, and I’m really happy for you.”
The second time, I was more dismissive as I didn’t know how to process it, and ended up talking about my experiences. I later apologized, because ew.
Both of these people are still in my life because they are both exceptionally gracious, but learn from my mistakes and focus on the other person’s feelings instead of making it about your feelings.
Not to be harsh, but when it comes to someone else’s identity, your feelings about it don’t matter. At all.
So if you are supporting someone in recovery who happens to be LGBTQ+, keep these in mind.
I hope this helps you be a better ally, a better support person, and a better human.
