What it Means to be a Queer-Affirming Therapist
(This blog post was written by Marriage and Family Therapist, Harry Green.)
As a queer therapist, I believe therapy should feel like an oasis, somewhere you can finally exhale, be fully yourself, and know that you are seen. In a world that often asks LGBTQIA+ people to shrink, hide, or compromise their authenticity, I strive to create a room without constraints. A place where healing, curiosity, and growth can unfold. For me, queer-affirming therapy isn’t just a professional practice; it’s a human right, the right to express who you are, unapologetically.
Growing up queer in a straight, cisgender world comes with both blessings and burdens. Many of us develop a sharp perception, a deep awareness of the people and environments around us—skills born from survival, but also gifts that allow us to see beauty in places others overlook. And yet, so often, that very perceptiveness is met with invisibility. To know and see so much, while feeling unseen yourself, can be heartbreaking. As a therapist, my calling is to recognize you, to witness your story, and to help you rediscover the unique light that has always been yours.
I once wrote a poem about this experience of living as LGBTQIA+:
We are known as mirrors—seeing, yet told not to show. We’ve been asked to dim our lights, to bend ourselves into colors chosen centuries ago by those who never knew us. But here is the truth: you exist, your light exists, and reclaiming it is one of the most radical and beautiful things you can do.
That light matters—not just for you, but for the community you create by daring to shine. When you show up authentically, you open doors for others to do the same. Each step you take toward self-expression ripples outward, echoing with possibility and hope.
This is why queer-affirming therapy is so important to me. It’s not about forcing anyone into a mold; it’s about breaking free of the molds that were never meant for us. Nowhere is this more powerful than in relationships. Our culture is saturated with narrow scripts for what love and partnership “should” look like—hetero, cis, monogamous, one-size-fits-all. But why try to squeeze into a story that was never written for you? Some of the most liberating moments I’ve witnessed as a therapist have been with queer and non-conforming couples who gave themselves permission to build a relationship on their own terms.
Together, we can throw out the “shoulds” and create something that feels true, expansive, and sustaining. Think of it as building a house: every member of the relationship brings something precious, and together, you design a home that holds all of it. That’s the beauty of queer love—it refuses to be boxed in.
For me, this work is about walking beside you as you reclaim your light, your relationships, and your authentic self. It’s about lending hope when your tank feels empty, and celebrating with you when joy, love, and connection return. Above all, it’s about affirming that your story, your identity, and your way of being in the world are not only valid, but vital.
