Why LGBTQ+ Language Matters Now More Than Ever
As a therapist who frequently works with the LGBTQ+ population, I often get questions like:
"What’s with the alphabet soup in the acronym?"
"Why do new letters keep getting added—what happened to just being gay or straight?"
"Isn’t it all too complicated now? Is the gay community just trying to be difficult?"
These are understandable questions. On the surface, it might seem like the LGBTQ+ community is intentionally making things complex. Understanding why the acronym continues to expand requires us to recognize the vital role language plays in shaping our understanding of identity.
Language Shapes Identity
In America, our traditional binary view of gender—male and female—can create confusion or discomfort for those who don’t fit into those rigid categories. For example, someone might be anatomically male but feel psychologically female, or they might not identify with any gender at all. Without the proper words to describe themselves, individuals can feel isolated and misunderstood. Language provides the framework we use to make sense of ourselves and the world around us.
Research demonstrates how language shapes perception:
Russian speakers, who have distinct words for light and dark blues, can visually distinguish these shades more quickly than English speakers.
Australian Aboriginal people of Pormpuraaw, who use cardinal directions (north, south, east, west) instead of relative directions like "left" or "right," exhibit an extraordinary sense of spatial orientation.
The Pirahã people avoid using number words, relying instead on terms like "few" and "many," which limits their ability to track exact quantities.
In all these cases, language impacts not only how people communicate but also how they perceive and navigate the world. For those in the LGBTQ+ community, having the right words to describe their identity isn't just about clarity—it’s about validation and visibility.
A History of Erasure—and the Fight for Recognition
Until the 19th century, words like homosexual and heterosexual didn’t exist. The terms were initially used by the medical community to describe "deviants"—people engaging in sex for reasons beyond procreation. It wasn’t until the 1930s that these words became more widely understood by the public. As contraception became more accessible and sexual identity began to be understood beyond reproductive purposes, the language of sexuality evolved.
Fast-forward to today, and we’re witnessing a similar linguistic evolution as nonbinary, queer, asexual, and other identities gain recognition. Inclusive language empowers people to find a sense of belonging and understanding. But this progress is under threat.
The Current Political Climate: An Assault on Language and Identity
The importance of inclusive language becomes even clearer in light of recent political actions that seek to erase it altogether. The current U.S. administration has made headlines for attempting to restrict or erase LGBTQ+ terminology in government documents and funding guidelines. Policies targeting transgender healthcare, attempts to ban books addressing queer identities, and efforts to eliminate DEI (Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion) programs all signal a larger campaign of erasure.
This isn’t just a semantic battle—it’s a fight for recognition and existence. When language is restricted, identities are invalidated, and the people who hold those identities face greater risks of marginalization, discrimination, and violence.
Why Language Matters
The expanding LGBTQ+ acronym isn’t about being complicated or exclusionary—it’s about making space for everyone to be seen and understood. For those who have long existed in the shadows due to a lack of recognition, language becomes a form of resistance, empowerment, and survival.
The fight for inclusive language is not just about adding letters to an acronym—it’s about ensuring that all identities have a place in the conversation. As policies aimed at erasure continue to gain traction, using inclusive language becomes a small but powerful act of solidarity and recognition.
Inclusion isn’t about complexity—it’s about compassion.