LGBTQ+ wellbeing and family law

“Many LGBTQ+ people grow up thinking that there is something inherently wrong with them, and this can become internalised. This can leave LGBTQ+ people with difficult-to-manage emotions arising from living in a discriminatory and unbalanced world… The Queer Community is a broad and heterogenous group, with different experiences and challenges and societal beliefs associated with each identity… Queer mental health and wellbeing is very much a spectrum”

Dr Brendan J Dunlop (he/him), NHS clinical psychologist and lecturer at the University of Manchester.

LGBTQ+ /Queer joy is on the same spectrum within which we move around from moment to moment, year to year, lifetime to lifetime. Minority Stress is not of course unique to LGBTQ+ people, but undoubtedly we face some experiences which are not only unique, but are disproportionately prevalent in the Queer world.

The Law Society’s LGBTQ+ Solicitor’s Network’s Pride in the Law research and report (available on The Law Society website) showed a resilient picture, mainly from those who are able to be out in their workplaces, which is not the case for many, and in particular our trans and non-binary siblings, despite their sharing the “protected” characteristic of “Gender Reassignment” since the Equality Act 2010. A lack of LGBTQ+ role models was the most-cited issue for LGBTQ+ lawyers who responded to The Law Society survey. Positive role models at work can inspire and motivate us to thrive as lawyers by showing us what is possible, share stories of overcoming challenges and can be a source of invaluable learning, both personally and professionally.

Centuries of criminalisation and stigma have their legacy in the internalisation of shame. Family members can feel this too and be vicariously stigmatised by association. Step families with LGBTQ+ members can face uniquely painful separations where a lack of biological ties can suddenly be held up as relevant and children lose contact with much loved step parents and grandparents.

Family support can be lost altogether due to rejection, and it was in my case the fear of this which kept me for too long from “coming out” to my parents. I waited until I was qualified so they could have something to proudly tell their friends.

When I trained and qualified there were no employment protections for LGBTQ+ people, so it was a high-risk decision whether to come out at a vulnerable stage of my legal career. It was not illegal either to discriminate in the provision of goods and services. Many of us relied on discreet little rainbow stickers hidden in corners in shop windows as a sign that a business was “gay friendly”.

When I looked in my copy of Dunlop’s The Queer Mental Health Workbook (Jessica Kingsley, 2022) to reference this quote, I spotted in the small print on the copyright page a trigger warning: “This book mentions abuse, anxiety, depression, eating disorders, self-harm, suicide, stress and trauma.”

These are just some of the mental health difficulties to which we are disproportionately prone. For LGBTQ+ people facing family breakdown and separation, it matters that those who we turn to for support are as switched on as possible to our needs. There can be an exacerbation of internalised shame which can make it extra difficult to admit that anything is wrong. Personally, I have found a lot of strength in the findings of the research of Dr Brené Brown, who is best known for her Ted Talk on The Power of Vulnerability. She has a powerful message which resonates loudly in many an LGBTQ+ experience: “Shame thrives on secrecy, silence and judgement. If you put shame into a petri dish and douse it with these three things, it will grow exponentially into every corner and crevice of our lives”.

As I am currently going through the breakdown of my civil partnership, I have recently had cause to research for myself various non-court dispute resolution (NCDR)/divorce coaching/therapeutic services. It feels inappropriate to turn to those I work with professionally, but despite my 30 years in family law, I have found it surprisingly difficult to distinguish those who are just good at marketing from those who are actually experienced and appear culturally competent to meet LGBTQ+ client needs. Unfortunately this has opened my eyes to some disappointingly poor services and outcomes, although there are also some amazingly good ones, where I have found people who instinctively understand Brené Brown’s conclusion that “The antidote to shame is empathy. If we reach out and share our shame experience with someone who responds with empathy, shame dissipates. Shame needs you to believe you’re alone. Empathy is a hostile environment for shame”.

Pride season can be a time for protest and the joy of connection, but also complex and tricky for lots of reasons.

I openly wept in 2017 upon rushing to my committee interview for the LGBT Lawyers Division of The Law Society. I was emotionally floored to encounter a huge rainbow flag fluttering over the Law Society Hall at Chancery Lane . That one was especially emotional for me as I had not been back since I was admitted nearly 24 years earlier, watched by my proud solicitor Dad, to whom I was not then “out”. I had a second ticket which my Mum couldn’t use as she was a teacher, but my partner could have come – if only I had been able publicly to acknowledge her existence that is. I also love seeing on corporate socials all the rainbow versions of their otherwise boring company logos. These always gladden my heart in Pride season, despite a lot of obvious “rainbow-washing”.

The tiny trigger warning in Dunlop’s book, tucked away on a page which most would skip over, served to reassure me that The Queer Mental Health Workbook I had sent off for is trauma-informed, not virtue signalling. By this I mean that it is likely to have been produced with a well-considered awareness and respect for the psychological safety and wellbeing not only of its readers, but in all likelihood also of its authors, contributors and others involved in its editing and production. Similarly, a family lawyer or other professional who is trauma-informed is likely to consider all of the relevant people who may come into contact with tricky content and ensure they are not ambushed by it unexpectedly. They will be mindful of the need to keep to a minimum the occasions on which they require their clients to recount details of traumatic events. They will be alive to the effect of trauma on memory, which can produce inconsistencies, or lead to a reluctance to “engage” in their own case, making them a “difficult” client. It is also important to appreciate that trauma can be a daily lived experience, as is explained later in the book, “For some Queer people, just existing is an ongoing traumatic experience”.

I was also reassured early on in the same Workbook that language and terminology issues had been thought about long and hard too. It is acknowledged that it is not possible to get this right for everyone but I have been frustrated that so many services and self-help materials aimed at people going through divorce make lazy, offensive assumptions, eg that people are separating from an opposite-sex partner, or more subtly but outdatedly, that equality means treating everyone the same, without factoring in disadvantage or minority stressors, like inherently stressful concealment (aka The Closet).

Trauma-informed legal practice is now finding a foothold in family law in our jurisdiction, alongside our growing understanding of the impact of our work on us, including vicarious trauma. Resolution members by definition are committed to a value-based approach to our practice, as enshrined in our Code. Resolution’s Statement of Ethical Principles and Practice specifically requires members to “recognise the importance of supporting the positive wellbeing of those they work with”. Increasingly, this is in turn leading to more reflective practice, where we can unlearn unhealthy patterns and behaviours in our practice which risk re-traumatisation.

For LGBTQ+ people, there is the additional difficulty that language, and pathology, and even therapy have so often in our history, but also in our presence, been weaponised against us. Reclaiming the term “Queer” from its use as a slur towards LGBTQ+ people has for many been an empowering antidote to bullying and trauma, whereas for others this term still feels highly offensive.

Family lawyers and other professionals, however they may personally identify, are usually a pretty empathetic bunch, so may feel they need no particular additional understanding or competencies to work alongside LGBTQ+ colleagues, or clients, nor on cases involving their spouses, civil partners, children, grandchildren etc. Please think again and stay curious to the experiences of all potential clients, listening as generously as possible rather than filtering out the bits that may have no legal relevance but contain vital information you will need to signpost us and to broker the right NCDR solutions.

I have expanded on these themes in content available on LawCare’s excellent knowledge centre: see LGBTQ+ lawyers and Sick and tired of LGBTQ+ microaggressions?, both available at www.lawcare.org.uk/get-information.