Losing someone you love deeply changes your life forever. When my mother passed away, the grief was overwhelming, like a physical wound. But amidst this personal tragedy, I faced another unexpected pain: the rejection and homophobia from people I believed were my support network.
It became painfully clear after my mother’s death that her standing in her church had created a situation where some people merely tolerated me, her daughter who dared to marry a woman. My mother had been my anchor, my confidante, and my greatest champion. She was the one person who embraced me completely, especially after I came out as lesbian. Her absence left an unfillable void. Yet, I was unprepared for the added anguish that arose from the reactions of those around me.
In the aftermath of my mother’s passing, I anticipated solace, enduring support, and empathy from friends, her acquaintances, and even family. Instead, I encountered coldness, judgmental murmurs, and overt homophobia. People I had known for years, individuals I thought I could depend on, suddenly distanced themselves. It felt like a double blow – not only had I lost my mother, but I was also losing the community I believed I belonged to. This external homophobia, at a time when I was most vulnerable, began to chip away at my sense of self, stirring feelings of internalized shame and self-hatred.
The abandonment was devastating, but the homophobia cut even deeper. Grieving for my mother was already a heavy burden, and now I had to confront the stark reality of prejudice and ignorance. It was a harsh reminder that despite societal progress, homophobia persists and can surface unexpectedly, particularly when you are most vulnerable. This external negativity can easily turn inward, leading to internalized homophobia – the turning of societal prejudice against oneself. Internalized homophobia can manifest as shame, self-doubt, and even self-hatred related to one’s sexual orientation.
However, amidst the hurt and betrayal, I discovered inner strength. I realized I couldn’t control others’ actions or beliefs, but I could govern my response. To honor my mother’s memory, I chose to live authentically and without apology. I made a conscious decision to surround myself with people who accepted and cherished me for who I am. I embarked on building a new, chosen family, a community that celebrated my true self.
Seeking professional support to navigate my grief and feelings of rejection was also crucial. Therapy became a safe haven to express my emotions and develop healthy coping mechanisms. It played a vital role in my healing journey, helping me understand how external homophobia can fuel internalized negative feelings, and how to challenge these self-deprecating beliefs.
This experience was a profound lesson in resilience, self-love, and the vital importance of chosen family. It affirmed that it’s not only okay but necessary to distance oneself from those who disrespect or invalidate your identity. It demonstrated that love and acceptance are attainable, even amidst adversity. Overcoming internalized homophobia is a journey of self-acceptance and reclaiming self-worth.
In conclusion, the loss of my mother, compounded by the subsequent abandonment and homophobia, was an incredibly painful chapter. Yet, it became an unexpected journey of self-discovery and personal growth. It taught me to advocate for myself, to seek help when needed, and to treasure those who genuinely care. It served as a stark reminder that even in the darkest moments, hope, growth, and the possibility of love and acceptance always remain. Overcoming internalized homophobia is about recognizing your inherent worth and building a life filled with self-compassion and authentic connections.
Kinyatta E. Gray is the founder of The Heart of Miss Bee, Inc., a non-profit organization dedicated to supporting women through grief with tools like journaling.
