I must’ve seen at least five or six different therapists in San Diego County before going to group therapy for gay men. I had developed anxiety from multiple encounters with homophobic and racist locals.
I moved from the safe spaces of San Diego State University to working and residing in the upscale, affluent Mission Hills. The neighborhood skewed younger in residents, and was adjacent to Hillcrest, the gay district of San Diego. Sadly, these people weren’t my Allies. Whether I was out during the day or night, I was met with homophobic slurs while holding hands with another man. My fiancé, while driving to the local Ralph’s, was pursued in his vehicle for having a Hillary Clinton bumper sticker. The driver hopped out of his car in front of the grocery store and instigated my fiancé into physical confrontation. In tandem, I watched him navigate strangers’ micro aggressions stemming from his accent, and anti-immigrant hate speech after he entrusted a new acquaintance enough to reveal his country of origin. We also didn’t anticipate speaking Spanish anywhere north of Downtown would be met with active aggression: San Diego is, after all, 35% Hispanic!
I started expecting hostility any time I stepped out, and by default, became wary of new acquaintances. My parents hadn’t raised me to navigate discrimination and I didn’t have the mental infrastructure to let these encounters roll of my shoulder. I knew I needed a therapist but I couldn’t vet them appropriately because few had a comprehensive profile online.
“It’s unfortunate that you’re running into discrimination, my friends have never brought up running into homophobia” said the first therapist, a cis-gendered heterosexual white guy. “Racism has never been my experience in San Diego, maybe they just find you attractive and that’s why they stare so attentively or ask questions about your background” said the next therapist, a cis-gendered heterosexual Indian-American woman. “You’re focusing on all the wrong things. Whether or not they’re racist or homophobic, by giving them your attention, you’re attracting them more into your life” said another therapist, a cis-gendered heterosexual white woman.
Nonetheless, I took the last therapist’s suggestion on trying group therapy for gay men in Point Loma, just across the San Diego Bay from a large military base. I arrived early and waited while the room filled one by one. Racially, I was in the minority, nevertheless, they were all gay.
Once our therapist arrived, she began moderating conversation and prompted us with sharing our reasons for attending.
Many of them shared a unique story about their relationship with their significant other and its challenges. Others talked about the stress of their job. She followed up with questions for them to elaborate and ultimately, she provided feedback. When she asked me my reason for attending, I shared the frequent discrimination I kept running into. I told of my story with a Trump supporter who chased after my boyfriend and I outside the grocery store in a vehicle for having the Equality sticker. I expanded on how I was harassed for speaking Spanish at a bar close to downtown. I shared the homophobic slurs that were yelled to me as I walked hand in hand with another guy. I talked about the fear my friend had about their family’s status in the US following the ongoing changes with undocumented people and the rage I felt in being unable to help them.
The room filled with a prolonged silence. Maybe they’re all processing, I thought. Our therapist didn’t say more than “Sounds like a lot of challenges.”
One of the guys spoke up and mentioned that the new presidency had caused a lot of “ignorance” out there. Ignorance, I thought. That’s an interesting word to use. I’d call it racism. Xenophobia. Empowering white supremacy. But sure, let’s just call it ignorance. I had another assert that it was a challenging period to live in but that one gets what they put out. He was essentially quoting the law of attraction. Because I have a desire to attract hostility into my life…
Interestingly, no one seemed surprised by the encounter with homophobia. Then why live here, I thought? Clearly you all accept the bigotry. Or they’re in denial, signaled by their defensiveness anytime I bring up the possibility that San Diego may be a conservative, racist town.
It only pissed me off to think this therapist’s expectations–that she would only need to deal with the problems faced by white gays. She must have deemed as “rogue elements” the disclosure of my trauma related to intersectional issues including race and immigration. Her “sounds like a lot of issues” response sent me home with a worsening mental state. This “therapy” clearly was not for people like me.
Resources for mental health in the US are scarce, and those that exist aren’t always the most cutting edge. It’s not that everyone isn’t suffering the impact of these shortcomings, but rather that certain populations are benefiting from the narrow bandwidth available; thus, creating the conditions for the “gay community” as just a vehicle for upholding white supremacy.
It was clear I didn’t belong in that town. Bigotry will never be normalized in my life. My mind made that clear the minute it responded with anxiety over acceptance. I was living in the wrong place. No amount of landscape, beach, “chill” lifestyle, or status can be seductive enough for me to override my desire to feel safe being who I am, wherever I am.
I’d like to think that the composition of group therapy sessions are based on the racial makeup of its geographical area, but that was simply not true in San Diego.
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This post was previously published on Medium.
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