By Nadira Jamerson
It’s no secret that systemic racism exposes Black Americans to more trauma throughout their lifetime. It’s also clear that, with less than 4% of U.S. psychiatrists identifying as Black, it’s a struggle for Black folks to find culturally competent mental health care.
But for Black LGBTQ+ folks navigating both racism and queerphobia, finding a therapist who can relate to their lived experiences becomes even more difficult.
An Atlanta-based mental health care provider raised in a traditional Trinidadian and Jamaican family in Florida, Dyer knows what it’s like to grow up in a household, and a community, hostile to their identity.
“There is a lot of homophobia within the second and third generations in my family,” Dyer says. “I thought that there was no way I was coming out because I did not want to deal with that. It was to the point where my family would get angry even in the presence of someone who was gay or lesbian.”
Then in high school, while skipping class one day, a friend talked about having a same-sex relationship.
“She was thinking about getting into a relationship with a girl, and I was sitting there like, ‘Oh, we’re allowed to do that?’” Dyer says. “I was just thinking to myself that we had to hide this, that people couldn’t know about that.”
When Dyer also expressed a similar, non-binary attraction, their friend was “really open and supportive. I am still friends with her till this day.”
In college, Dyer continued to explore their queer identity, gradually becoming more confident. As they became more comfortable with themselves, Dyer came out to their cousin and mother at age 26. Embracing that identity inspired Dyer to specialize in supporting other Black LGBTQ+ folks’ mental health.
“I made it a point to put on all of my marketing things that I am queer, gay, disabled — all of the different things — so that people can feel connected in that therapeutic space,” they say.
Sometimes You Come Out Again, and Again
In their practice with Black clients, Dyer, 29, uses holistic, trauma-informed and evidence-based techniques, including somatic movement, internal family systems, brain spotting, and dialectical behavior therapy. With nearly 1 in 3 Black LGBTQ+ folks reporting avoiding public spaces to avoid experiencing discrimination, Dyer’s goal is to help clients feel secure.
“For the most part, if the presenting problem is an identity or gender concern, we start to move through safety and what safety feels like in the body,” they say.
With clients who feel anxious or unsafe about sharing their identity with family and friends, Dyer reminds them that coming out is not a requirement, each experience with loved ones is unique and “we can’t ensure it will go any way.”
“You have to prepare yourself to self-soothe, to ride the emotional wave experience, or to not have the conversation until it is a safe space,” they say.
Having also revealed themselves as polyamorous, Dyer knows firsthand that sometimes Black LGBTQ+ folks come out more than once.
“You don’t have to stay in one sexuality, because it’s all on a spectrum,” they say. “That’s why I like the term ‘queer’ because it doesn’t hold you to a box.”
Dyer has watched their clients go from “being shut down and being isolated in a family unit or peer group” before they came out, to seeing them “gain more confidence, and respect, and acceptance for themselves to be able to show up in all of these different groups,” after they came out.
While not all Black LGBTQ+ folks need coming-out therapy, finding a therapist or social worker is key, Dyer says — particularly if they have fears their identity could cause wide-reaching life implications.
Showing Up For Black LGBTQ+ Folks
In talks about LGBTQ+ rights, we often hear people call for “acceptance.” But Dyer believes that supporting the Black LGBTQ+ folks in our lives must include “celebrating them coming out, having a dinner, or having a toast — something that lets them know you care and that you are not just accepting it.”
But to become a good ally, they say, getting informed and offering help is also crucial.
“The advice I would give people if they have to support someone coming out would be to listen first — active listening,” they say. “And asking support questions like ‘Do you need support? How can I support you? Is there anything that I can do to make this transition easier for you?’ makes a big difference.”
