Over the rainbow

Kris Kidd is around two decades away from the time of life affectionately called “the golden years.” Peering into the future, Kidd wonders what that period will bring.

Kidd, a psychotherapist in Chico, has been out for 25 years. The LGBTQ community—now often referred to by the acronym GSM, for gender and sexual minorities—has witnessed and experienced significant changes during that span. Yet, society has not evolved completely, uniformly, universally.

Gay, lesbian and transgender seniors face not only the typical challenges of aging, but also mental health issues specific to their situations.

Many do not have children. Laws do not afford them the same protections as other citizens. Stigmas linger. These and other factors may lead to any of a list of conditions that Kidd says includes loneliness, anxiety, depression and post-traumatic stress.

From living independently, elders frequently end up dependent on strangers, such as in managed care facilities. How open can they be?

Kidd, who does not have children, told the CN&R by phone, “I worry about that for myself, and I’m only 51. I can see being 72 and going, Do I come out to every nurse? Do I come out to every doctor?”

Kidd faced acceptance when coming out; “that [older] generation doesn’t trust as much.”

Kidd and Thomas Kelem, a fellow therapist who until recently served as executive director of Chico’s Stonewall Alliance Center, described a generation of LGBTQ individuals with a tumultuous history. Violence, protests, prejudice, HIV/AIDS—visceral developments shaped young adulthood and middle age of current retirees. Pride Month, celebrated each June, recognizes the 1969 Stonewall riots that ignited activism.

“To a large extent, a lot of us have been traumatized by the ways we’ve been attacked over our lives,” said Kelem, 65. “Even people just yelling names can stir up trauma, which then makes the whole experience more difficult—escalates the level of fear.”

Ironically, after living as “out” individuals, many seniors go back in the closet rather than reveal their sexual/gender identity to potentially unfriendly housemates and caregivers. Some go so far as to separate from partners, Kelem said, to keep their secret.

In nursing homes, he continued, “generally they find they have a really horrible experience. Either people there are not accepting or are not aware of how to be comforting and respectful of LGBTQ people.

“It’s bad enough not being healthy and being at the mercy of someone taking care of you; on top of that, if you’re fearful of how they might treat you because you’re LGBTQ, that adds a whole other level to it.”

While at the Stonewall Alliance Center, Kelem participated in the creation of a state guide addressing such concerns. Titled “LGBT Mental Health and Aging Guide,” the 16-page booklet—free to download online (tinyurl.com/LGBTQaging)—comes from the Each Mind Matters project funded by the state’s Mental Health Services Act.

LGTBQ Californians comprise approximately 5 percent of the state’s population; according to the guide’s authors, these people (across all ages) are almost three times more likely to experience mental health issues than non-LGBTQ peers.

Along with fear, Kelem cited loneliness as a significant emotion. Elders in the community “don’t necessarily have a lot of places to go and socialize,” he said, “and don’t necessarily get out as well, even if they’re living at home. Traditionally, bars were where people congregated, until maybe the last 10 or 15 years.”

Even if they do get out, they find a different scene. Kelem explained that older men, in particular, often feel rejected by those their junior. Kidd, meanwhile, described the waning of subcultures, such as “butch/femme” lesbians.

“Then you feel like, Where do I fit?”Kidd said. “How do I out myself, how do I say where I am, when I’ve lived in this my entire life and now it’s gone?

“That may affect an entire generation as well.”

Kidd sees a number of clients who feel comfortable discussing their sexual and gender identities; currently, none are seniors—at least based on personal disclosure. When completing an internship at a local social services agency, Kidd did have a member of a therapy group say privately she was a lesbian; however, in sessions, the senior woman referred to her partner as a male.

The CN&R contacted a half-dozen other therapists in Chico, either referred by Kelem or specialists in psychology for seniors; none said they knew of having an LGBTQ senior as a patient.

Same with Passages Connections, a program from the Chico State-based senior support service Passages. Connections offers counseling and support to older adults; program supervisor Shannon Simmons said by phone that the assessment process includes an enrollment form from Butte County Behavioral Health—a Connections funder—that asks for gender and sexual identity.

“Of course, people can decline to state and then move on; in my experience, the overwhelming majority of individuals have said, ‘Oh, yeah, I’m straight’ or ‘heterosexual’—and I’ve certainly considered that maybe they’re not disclosing or don’t feel comfortable disclosing,” she said. “One reason may be a hesitancy to get actually vulnerable about anything related to identity: mental health [or] sexual orientation.”

Simmons, like Kelem and Kidd, discussed the importance of sensitivity for caregivers. As noted in the guide, LGTBQ seniors may have to seek out providers with training, experience and settings that inspire their confidence.

“Identifying within that population myself, I feel like I’ve probably brought at least some sensitivity to how that facet of someone’s identity could be impacting any other part of our work together,” she said. “Even if someone is comfortably out, that [distinguishing part of their identity] certainly could be in the lexicon of how they interact out in the world and their interpersonal comfort.”