🌈 In Conversation: On Pride, Identity, and Holding Space.

Talking Pride & Identity with William Koné

Welcome to our first ever “In conversation” series, where we interview interesting people on the subjects that matter. 

I talk to a fellow Bloom therapist William Koné (Will for short 😄), who shares his journey into queerness with me. We talk about the the nuances of celebrating Pride today, how queerness informs his clinical practice, and dive into the beauty of his ever-evolving identity.

This conversation was both a celebration and a much needed affirmation of what it means to live one’s truth. So grab a cup of tea, settle in, or save this one for later. This interview hits deep reflective notes, that I think many of us (including myself) can relate to — whether we’re queer or not 🤎.

— Zarmina

Z: So tell us, how did you first come into your queer identity?

Will: I feel like I had inklings from when I was younger, probably four or five. I didn't really engage in the “traditional” masculine things like sports and being rowdy etc. I was very quiet. Through elementary school, there were a lot of homophobic remarks, unfortunately, being spewed my way. It was a level of othering that made me feel unwelcome. By the time that I entered junior high, it was clear to me that I was queer.

At that time I didn't have the strength, unfortunately, to verbalize this because I was fearful. I was concerned about how my family and people closest to me would react. That meant there was a lot of secrecy. By the time I ended high school I realized that it was a performance that made me feel inauthentic. I didn’t have the space to consider different possibilities of who I wanted to be.

Truthfully I don't even remember how it all came out in the end, but I do remember having a very casual conversation with my mom where the subject of sexuality came up. She asked me outright if I identified as gay, and I confirmed, yes, I was. Looking back, the delivery of it all was so relaxed. All of the anticipation and concern about the conversation wasn't as stressful as I thought it would be.

I do still think about the fact that I held myself back for so many years. It was a big reminder that I didn't have to resort to self-protection as deeply as I initially believed. It took years, but I found myself in a place where I could really own my identity.

Z: Thank you for sharing that with me. So what does that ownership look like for you today? As you’ve evolved into yourself and your identity?

Will: I think part of it is coming to a place of acceptance and understanding that my experiences might be very different to others. I think naturally being situated within a largely heteronormative world, it can feel discouraging sometimes. I’ve definitely questioned whether or not I’m “hitting the mark” so to speak when it comes to life milestones. I’m understanding that there isn't necessarily a rule book per se, and that I have to make sense of things on my own. It’s a challenge and a blessing to see that I can also advocate for myself in ways that are specific and unique to me.

It doesn't have to look one way either. That's been one process through this queer evolution that I've been able to gradually chip away at — What does it mean to really define my truth for me and no one else?

Z: The way you describe it, it sounds like that's an ongoing process. Like you're not done evolving — it's constantly flowing and changing.

Will: Oh, absolutely. I mean, my 20s was really about accepting that process. A lot of my closest friends and family are hitting the traditional milestones, or well on their way to do so. Whether it's marriage, purchasing property etc., I am not in that position and I probably won't be anytime soon.

I’m coming to a place of acceptance that these feelings are valid, but it can be hard when you notice that you're pivoting from what's considered to be “normal.” I’m also extending grace [to myself] to know that my pace and perspective still has merit even if it doesn't resonate with others. Even if they don’t necessarily understand.

Z: One hundred percent. I get why that comparison might be really hard to shake especially— when you see other people hitting certain milestones and you’re on a different path.

Will: Yeah. there's a lot of pressure. In western society we see a lot of focus on hyper-independence. It’s assumed that you should be able to figure sh*t out on your own as a means of showcasing your productivity. I had to check myself to understand that this [hyper-independent] method is just not practical. Through my connections and closest relationships is where I really learned validate that for myself.

Z: Well, speaking of, as therapists we're in the business of relationships. I'm curious how your queer identity shows up in the therapy room with your clients?

Will: Yeah. Queerness shows up everywhere. Like I can't divorce it, naturally. It's one thing that I'm grateful for because that authenticity often fosters a sense of security for other people, especially clients. I can't count the number of clients who I've spoken to who are exploring their queerness for the first time, and felt safe enough in therapy to start advocating for themselves.

On another hand, I’ve had queer identifying clients who have been harmed in therapy spaces that makes them reluctant to re-engage in treatment environments. I like to keep an open perspective that acknowledges that everyone’s journey is unique. I want folks to be empowered to find their truth on their terms. Even if they don't have the language to describe it in the moment, it’s a privilege to support people to build a curiosity towards processing what it all means to them. 

I do feel like that exists across the board, even with non quer-identifying clients. Although many of my current clients identify within the 2SLGBTQIA+ spectrum, or sit at multiple racial and ethnic intersections, it is still so important to create a space that allows everyone to be seen fully as they are.

Z: Do you use disclosure to share about your own experiences with your clients? Does that come up?

Will: It definitely comes up. Earlier today even! There was a new client I spoke to, who shared they are only racialized queer person within their work space. Because of that, they had a lot of questions for me to confirm if could show up authentically. During the consult, I disclosed a brief personal experience of navigating queerness in the workplace, which they mentioned was reassuring to them.

It's daunting when you’re isolated and don’t know who to trust. I try to drop into my empathy and experience around that for clients as appropriate. I think it's necessary to normalize that vulnerability.

Z: Yeah. In validating other people, I imagine, it must be really validating for you, too. It sounds like a beautifully mutual healing process.

Yeah. I often tell clients that connection in therapy means that mutual understanding and safety will naturally show up too. If you take the time to share, ask for support and be vulnerable, there's also an opportunity for me to grow personally too. It’s a balance of what makes sense for the client vs just sharing to share or to process. I have my own therapy and supervision for that thankfully!

Z: Yesterday marked the first day of June and Pride month. I'd love to understand what this month means for you.

Will: Pride has always felt like an act of reclamation. For me it’s a lot of things, but it does feel like a moment to name who we are along the 2SLGBTQIA+ spectrum and to remind ourselves that we are worthy and deserving.

With time, though, my relationship to Pride has shifted. I’m no longer satisfied with rainbow-washed slogans or parade marketing that flattens our stories. The more corporate it gets, the less room there seems to be for the full truth of queer and trans lives. It’s a lean toward commercialism that prevents true representation.

It does matter, especially in a global climate that still tries to erase our collective personhood. I’ve been reflecting on how we can cultivate real validation within our communities. There’s no single fix, but I know that naming our frustration and grief is part of the work. When we honour those feelings alongside the celebration, I think we reclaim Pride all over again.

Z: What do your clients say about Pride this time of year, the Pride celebrations?

Will: Yeah, It's a mixed bag of sorts. I would say that on the one hand there's a freedom I hear on the power of 2SLGBTQIA+ representation and queer visibility. We talk a lot in therapy about intersectionality and where folks feel represented and fit in. On the other hand, I can't count the amount of folks who mention that they don't partake in Pride events because they don't feel safe, or they've experienced past discrimination and don't necessarily feel emboldened to celebrate just for this occasion. I hear a lot of desire for acknowledgement every month, and not just during Pride.

There is of course always room for nuance. We can hold compassion for all of us who might see Pride differently. It’s a privilege as a clinician to be the keeper of these inner truths in community.

Z: Sounds like community here means having space to connect on both different and shared experiences, allowing for all to come forward.

Without a doubt, community for me is embedded within authenticity and openness to all. And with that comes the opportunity to uplift voices throughout the various stages of one's exploration and self evolution.

Z: What advice would you give to someone who maybe hasn't found their community yet or who is still coming to terms with their identity?

Will: That’s a good question. For one, it helps to know that you’re not alone. Exploration takes time, so there is patience and grace needed along the way, especially when it doesn’t take a path that we might expect.

I would get in tune with your own trust too. People often know more about themselves than they may assume. When you can name what you need from community: connection, information, a listening ear, see if you can make one small step towards one of them. It’s okay to not know how to do it all at once.

Also you don’t have to do this by yourself. I wish I’d asked for help earlier; it might have opened doors to real community sooner. There are people who exist that genuinely want to hear your story, support you and walk alongside you, even if the first person you experience that with is your therapist.◼︎