"How do you handle isolation and feeling like an impostor?"

JS writes —

Thank you for what you do, it has absolutely helped me as I've gone through my journey of discovering me.

I just had the question, how do you deal with the feelings of isolation, being an imposter, not being wanted in your community? I know they're false. I know I'm not isolated, I know I'm me, I know I'm wanted. I just haven't been able to get rid of these feelings. What's your advice on this?

Hey JS -

First of all, I want to acknowledge that what you’re feeling is perfectly normal. A lot of queer people have been in the same position, struggling with the same tough feelings. You’re not alone in this. In a weird way, this feeling of isolation from your community is a communal experience, a thing that connects you to other queer people.

The journey to accepting your queerness is rough terrain. We have to overcome a lot of very powerful cultural messages that tell us, from the time we’ve very young, that queerness is wrong, unnatural, a physical and spiritual brokenness. We have to overcome our family’s pressure to conform to their and society’s expectations of us. We have to hide or code our behaviors and words among friends and others in order to keep ourselves safe. And we grapple with the darkness that grows in us as we struggle to sort all those complicated pressures out.

That struggle leaves marks. No matter how triumphant the leap into self-acceptance is for us, accepting yourself and coming out may lay the groundwork for a fabulous future, but it doesn’t erase the wounds of the past. And the feelings you’re talking about — feeling isolated, feeling like an imposter, feeling rejected by the community — can be forged in those wounds.

So you first have to make peace with those wounds. They’re not going anywhere. And you’ll have to find some space where they — and the havoc they can create — will live. You’ll have more room to consider these negative emotions and process them, since you won’t be pushing against them or feeling bad about having them in the first place. And secondly, making peace with your wounds recognizes that they are part of your growth. They’re part of what makes you who you now know yourself to be. Without the wounds, you wouldn’t know this version of you, so even though they suck, you can at least tell them, “Alright. You’re here. I see you. But you don’t get to run the place.”

Then, work on them. If therapy is accessible and safe, it can be a great help in processing some of the trauma of growing up queer. If not, work on building a positive, supportive network of people around you that embrace who you are and understand the parts you’re still struggling with. We carry our wounds forever, but they don’t have to narrate our story. We can work on our wounds, healing them up enough to allow us to continue growing.

And the last thing: build a fabulous queer life anyway. My first therapist told me, “This stuff is hard. So fake it till you make it.” Even if you’re still feeling these negative feelings, get out there and live like you aren’t. We can struggle through things but still lean into the possibilities we dream of. Build that community. Live your authentic self. Be out. Be proud. Eventually, the part of you that’s struggling to let go the past will catch up to your fabulous future.

If you have questions or need advice about asexuality, sex and relationships, send ‘em to cody@acedadadvice.com.