Combating Shame and Stigma in the Fight for LGBTQIA+ Health Equity

I’m writing this as we navigate another Pride Month, and as I reflect on the joy and resilience of our community, it’s impossible to ignore the ever-present weight of our collective trauma. Eight years ago, on a warm June night, our world shattered. The joyous celebration of Pride Month at Pulse Nightclub in Orlando transformed into a scene of unimaginable horror, the echoes of gunshots forever seared into our collective memory. Forty-nine souls, beautiful and full of promise, were tragically stolen from us, victims of a hate-fueled act of violence that shook the LGBTQIA+ community to its core. My own gay wedding was set to be held one week after the massacre. I remember all too well the conversations we had, the fear we held for our safety and the safety of our guests. The tears we shed as we stood up to the hate, held a moment of silence for our lost queer family, and recited our vows, in defiance.

We carry a legacy of loss within the queer community. The Pulse nightclub shooting is forever seared into our collective memory; a horrific reminder of the violence fueled by hatred and bigotry that continues to plague our society. We remember the 49 lives lost that night, and countless others targeted for simply daring to live their truths. We remember the generation decimated by HIV/AIDS, a generation denied care and compassion in its time of greatest need. We must never forget that we have always been marginalized, attacked, and killed simply for existing. Yet, even in the face of unimaginable grief and persistent oppression, we find the strength to rise. We draw strength from the legacy of those who came before us, those who fought tirelessly for a better world. Theirs is a legacy of resilience, of love, of unwavering pride that fuels our fight for a brighter future.

This fight, however, is far from over. This Pride Month, we are reminded that the struggle for LGBTQIA+ equality, a struggle deeply intertwined with the fight against HIV, is a marathon fueled by defiance. And they—those who seek to erase us, silence us, deny our humanity—are banking on our exhaustion. They are counting on us to falter, to grow weary, to surrender to the constant battle for our right to simply exist. Their weapon of choice? Shame, wielded through stigma.

Stigma is the weapon they wield, launching attacks of misinformation, fear, and prejudice. Shame is the wound that festers when those attacks land, making us doubt our worth, our identities, our right to exist. It’s the insidious force behind discriminatory legislation, the hateful rhetoric that paints us as dangerous or deviant. It's the fear that prevents someone from seeking an HIV test, the silence that keeps people from accessing life-saving treatment, the isolation that breeds despair. It’s the reason why, even in 2024, HIV continues to disproportionately impact marginalized communities, and why accessing quality, affirming healthcare can still feel like navigating a minefield for so many LGBTQIA+ people. Shame is what happens when we internalize that stigma; when we start to believe the lies that we are broken, unworthy, deserving of judgment and rejection.

And they know it.

We see their tactics everywhere we look. The relentless attacks on LGBTQIA+ rights, particularly the venomous campaign of hate targeting transgender and gender-nonconforming people, are designed to instill fear, to divide us, to make us question our worth. These attacks, often disguised as concerns about "parental rights" or "religious freedom," create a climate of intolerance that directly impacts healthcare access for the most vulnerable members of our community.

This politically-motivated hate manifests in insidious ways. We see it in the surge of anti-LGBTQ+ legislation sweeping the nation, legislation that seeks to control our bodies, our identities, our very right to exist. While we celebrate the small victories—the decrease in anti-LGBTQ+ bills passed this year, a testament to the power of our collective advocacy—we know that the 37 that passed are 37 too many. These bills, particularly those targeting transgender youth, represent a direct attack on the well-being of our community.

And the assault doesn't stop there. They try to control the narrative, to erase us from history, ban our stories, to keep lifesaving information out of the hands of our youth. Efforts to restrict comprehensive sex education in schools, to erase queer people from discussions about health and relationships, are a blatant attempt to perpetuate a cycle of stigma, shame, and silence.

But here's where our power lies: in pride. Not just the parades and parties—though those hold their own significance—but the deep, abiding pride that serves as the antidote to shame. The pride that is rooted in self-respect, in solidarity, in the unwavering belief that our lives, our loves, our identities are valid and worthy of celebration. This is the pride we carry in our hearts, the pride that fuels our resilience and fuels our fight for a better world.

This Pride Month, let us honor the memory of those we lost at Pulse and in the decades-long fight against HIV/AIDS by continuing their legacy of resistance and queer joy. Let us transform our grief and anger into action. Let us demand better from our elected officials, holding them accountable and demanding policies that prioritize public health over prejudice. Let us challenge discriminatory policies that restrict access to essential healthcare services, including HIV prevention, testing, and treatment. Let us advocate fiercely for comprehensive sex education that is inclusive of LGBTQIA+ experiences and identities.

Our fight is far from over, but we are strong. We are resilient. We are proud. And we will not be silenced.