As a queer woman of color surviving depression and bulimia, I am keenly aware of just how crucial it is for us to have supportive communities and empathetic friends.
It helps lessen the strains of living in a society that seeks to tread its most marginalized down from all sides.
Caring for ourselves, and each other, when no one else will is an act of radical defiance and self-preservation.
It signifies that we’re willing to recognize our inherent importance, that will we protect our communities, and that we will not be defeated by the pervasive efforts of oppression.
Because so many of us have been rejected by our birth families, or not sufficiently accepted, we often come together, defy heteronormative restrictions of what family can be, and create “chosen families.”
And ideally, a queer chosen family embodies the unconditional and accepting love that we need if we are to have any chance of thriving and flourishing.
But sometimes, our queer families can take on similar, or completely different, unhealthy dynamics and cause us just as much pain as the ones we may be fleeing.