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Not long ago, a friend was traveling and decided to get a haircut at the airport during his layover.
He lives in Los Angeles with his husband, so when the new barber asked him whether he was single or had a wife, he didn’t stop to tell him he’s gay.
It wasn’t that he felt unsafe or worried he could be harmed. He told me it felt easier in the moment to not disrupt the flow of the barber’s heteronormative assumption.
He left feeling disappointed in himself, though, and wondered why, after all this time, it can still sometimes feel easier to hide.
As a means of honoring himself and confronting shame’s lie, he went back to the barbershop after he left and said, “I just wanted to tell you that I’m gay and didn’t say anything before, but I’m happily married and have a loving husband at home in LA.”
In my clinical work with clients, I often hear some version of, “I’ve done the work, I’ve come out, I’m successful, and yet I still feel like something’s missing.”
While visibility and progress have increased, the inner work of healing shame, internalized homophobia, and spiritual disconnection remains largely unaddressed.
In fact, acknowledging internalized homophobia carries stigma. For gay men, admitting any form of internalized shame can feel like a betrayal of the community, as if by acknowledging it, we’re giving credence to the very homophobia we’ve fought to survive.
Due to stigma, fear of judgment, and a more nuanced dynamic known as protective silence—a pressure to safeguard our image by avoiding narratives that might be seen as “airing our dirty laundry”—many gay men learn to suppress their pain for the sake of collective pride. This can create an inner conflict between honoring our personal experience and staying loyal to the community’s image, where speaking about internalized homophobia feels like exposing a personal failure rather than a shared wound.
Discovering Self-Worth Beyond External Validation
As I began exploring my own incongruence and feelings of unworthiness, I never found anything that addressed self-worth, shame, and spirituality specifically for gay men. What I learned in my own healing, and what I’ve witnessed in my clients’, is worthiness doesn’t come from fixing external problems. It comes from understanding and embracing who we are at our core. Not just intellectually, but spiritually.
Internalized homophobia doesn’t only affect how we consciously and unconsciously see ourselves. It impacts how we relate to each other as gay men, including our friendships, romantic relationships, sex lives, and coping strategies.
When shame is chronic and internalized, it can lead us to project our unhealed and unconscious shame onto others, specifically other gay men. Because we’ve disconnected and disowned parts of ourselves we identify as shameful, we might judge each other for being too feminine, too sexual, or too much—when in reality, we’re uncomfortable seeing a part of ourselves reflected back that we haven’t made peace with yet.
Shame can become contagious among gay men, bouncing from one person to the next, disguised as standards or taste or “preference.” But underneath, it’s a defense mechanism.
Differentiating Between Healthy and Toxic Shame
It’s important to distinguish between healthy shame, which keeps us connected to empathy and conscience, and toxic shame that says, “There’s something wrong with who you are.”
Toxic shame is the spiritual core of internalized homophobia. It’s also why many of us, especially those raised in religious households, become shame-prone. If we were taught our existence was sinful, we learned more than fear of punishment. We internalized a belief that we were fundamentally broken, or worse, that we could go to hell.
Coming out doesn’t erase this kind of identity-based trauma. Unhealed wounds live inside our nervous system until we’re willing to meet them with compassion and curiosity rather than avoidance.
As a therapist, I talk with clients about how trauma is passed down generationally. If your father had an addiction and it hurt you, it wasn’t your fault. But healing from the pain it caused and how it impacts your life is your responsibility. If we don’t tend to our wounds, we pass them on. The same is true for shame. We may consciously or unconsciously internalize it, but we also have the power to stop passing it on.
For many gay men, our freedom lies in being able to acknowledge how our past still informs our present. Our past lives in our present, and when we choose to transform the present, we make peace with the past.
If I were to ask you where your own sense of worth comes from, whether it’s from an achievement, an external marker of success, or something inherent within you, what would you say?
In my forthcoming book, Becoming Worthy: A Gay Man’s Guide to Healing Shame and Loving Himself (Bloomsbury, 2027), I explore all of this, including loneliness, religious trauma, body dissatisfaction, and something rarely addressed in books for gay men, our relationship with money.
If any of this resonates, or you have a story of your own you’d like to share, I’d love to hear from you. You can find me on Instagram at @aroadtriptolove, or subscribe below for future posts.
To find a therapist, please visit the Psychology Today Therapy Directory.
