Mental Health

A black and white photo of a person walking on a sidewalk.

Conversion Therapy’s Deadly Outcomes

By pwsbuilder / April 21, 2015 /

Trigger warning: discussions of suicide I wish Leelah Alcorn was alive today. She would know how a petition on the White House website with 120,000 plus signatures calling for the enactment of “Leelah’s Law to Ban All LGBTQ+ Conversion Therapy” not only went viral across mainstream and social media internationally, but how the petition was also…

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Two women with dreadlocks smiling for the camera.

Coming Out! From The Closet To The White House

By pwsbuilder / February 2, 2015 /

“…Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by. And that has made all the difference.” Robert Frost For over 30 years of going to my workplace and being fearful that my sexual orientation would be found out; I never dreamed I would be standing in the Oval Office…

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A close up view of a door with a black finish.

Opening Doors: The Closet of Depression

By pwsbuilder / January 26, 2015 /

I have remained mostly silent in light of the recent deaths by suicide of transgender women and men. I would like to say that I have some sort of honorable reason for that silence, but the reality is that I was just too afraid to say much. You see, I’ve been running in and out of…

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Two people sitting in a room talking to each other.

Why I Love My Job As A Therapist

By pwsbuilder / February 20, 2014 / Comments Off on Why I Love My Job As A Therapist

One of the most frequently asked questions people ask me about my job is whether I get depressed at work. As a web-based therapist, I specialize in primarily seeing three different types of people—those who need a safe place to figure out if they are gay and how to reconcile that with their faith, people…

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A painting of three people with a cross.

The Queer Jesus Saved My Soul

By pwsbuilder / March 1, 2013 /

Before my feet could touch the ground under the pew of the Southern Baptist church of my youth, I was afraid. Every time the preacher screamed and pointed eternal damnations, I knew he was screaming and pointing at me. Sunday nights were awful. The fears were fresh and pressed deeply into the soft tissue of…

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