How To Fight Despair
Normally when I am planning out the next few months worth of blogs, it doesn’t take much for me to find inspiration. Whether it’s a theme I’m noticing in sessions with clients, something I’m working with my own therapist on, or a recent conversation with a friend, I normally have a pretty clear idea of what I want to write about. However, this month feels different for me. While I knew June meant a Pride-related blog, I’ve gotta be honest: nothing about June 2026 is shouting inspiration to me. In fact, if anything, I’m fighting feelings of despair.
I’m thinking of my clients, many of whom are queer, and are battling feelings of pain and hopelessness given the state of the world. I’m thinking of my trans friends, who have had to move to states where they’re more likely to have access to decent medical care. I’m thinking of my own kid, who I’m determined will grow up in a world where he knows he can be anyone and love anyone who he wishes… but damn, it’s a fight for that. I’m also thinking of little me, unsure why she felt different and never quite fit in but wasn’t sure why. Who, at the age of 19, was asked by a therapist, “are you attracted to women?” and didn’t have the guts to answer her honestly. Who, years later, made incredibly scary phone calls to religious friends and family members letting them know that there was something they didn’t know about me. These are the people who give me hope even when I’m also holding onto despair.
As I like to say, both things can be true.
I can equally feel the despair of our current times AND fight for a better future.
I can feel scared for my friends, my clients, and myself AND refuse to let the fear overcome me.
I can, and will, let my morals lead me even when I recognize that many disagree with me.
Ultimately, I am committed as a therapist, a mom, a queer woman, and a business owner to make the world a more safe and accepting place than it was when I was that scared little girl. As a therapist, I am committed to being annoyingly clear about where I stand on issues of human rights. I am also committed to addressing my own biases outside of my therapy space so that my clients don’t have to be my educators. As a mom, I am committed to making the world a better place for my children than it was for me as a kid. My kid will never have to feel scared to tell me something about who they are or who they love. They will know they have parents who are fiercely fighting for their rights. As a queer woman, I am committed to being proud of who I have become and who I continue to become, knowing there are kids sitting in pews right now actively hiding some of the most beautiful parts of themselves. And as a business owner, I am committed to prioritizing fairness and equity in the workplace. I recognize the power I hold as a business owner and supervisor and am committed to doing my best to make my business a place where clients and employees alike want to be.
I am also committing to using any financial power I have to make the world a better place. And while behavioral health isn’t the most lucrative business in the world, I do still recognize that as a business owner, I have the ability to make financial decisions that align with my morals and values. Because of this, Rooted is committed to donating a portion of our session costs this month to the Pride Center of Western New York. We were able to do the same last year and we are confident our donation will continue to help the queer community in WNY have access to mental health care, medical care, education, and community that they wouldn’t otherwise have.
So yes, despair is unfortunately part of the queer community's story. But so is hope. So is healing. So is love. So is fighting for justice. We are much more than the despair our society has handed to us. Let’s choose hope over despair whenever and wherever possible. Choose hope for your friends who are understandably overcome with despair right now. Choose hope for those kids sitting in pews hiding themselves. Choose hope for future generations. Choose hope for little you. And then join me in acting on that hope. You may not be able to financially support a queer organization or business this month and that’s ok. Can you call your queer friends and check on them? Can you post resources for queer folks to your social media? Can you show up to the Pride Parade and be committed to making sure the people around you have a fun and safe experience? Do what you can when you can. That’s what true hope is. Hope on, friends.