Operationalizing Microaffirmations for Queer and Transgender People of Color

Zori A. Paul, Kyesha M. Isadore, Nishi Ravi, Kayla D. Lewis, Dewi Qisti, Alex Hietpas, Bergen Hermanson, Yuji Su

Queer and transgender people of color (QTPOC) face unique mental health challenges because of intersecting forms of discrimination that place them at higher risk for adverse mental health outcomes. Emerging research has begun to explore the concept of microaffirmations—small verbal or nonverbal forms of communication that signal support, encouragement, or validation—as a protective factor for marginalized populations. This study highlights how QTPOC experience and perceive microaffirmations and explores the role microaffirmations play in their mental health and well-being. Utilizing an interpretive phenomenological analysis, qualitative data were obtained from 14 QTPOC participants through semi-structured interviews. Analyses identified five superordinate themes: influence of identity development, safety with others, envisioning policy changes, representation, and internalization of perceived worth. This study demonstrates the role microaffirmations play in mitigating the negative impacts of discrimination and enhancing the well-being of QTPOC. Implications for counselors include suggestions for providing QTPOC clients with more affirming care on the micro and macro levels.

Keywords: microaffirmations, queer, transgender, people of color, mental health

     The number of queer and transgender people of color (QTPOC) in the United States is increasing (Jones, 2024), leading to a greater focus on their unique experiences and mental health needs. In recent years, the visibility of QTPOC has grown, and with it, awareness of the specific challenges they face. These challenges are compounded by intersecting forms of discrimination related to both their racial/ethnic identities and their sexual and gender identities (Cyrus, 2017). Despite this increased visibility, QTPOC continue to experience significant mental health disparities, which are often overlooked in broader discussions about mental health and well-being. These mental health concerns include higher rates of depression, anxiety, and trauma, as well as increased risk of suicidal ideation compared to their White cisgender or heterosexual counterparts (Bostwick et al., 2014; Horne et al., 2022; Meyer, 2003; White Hughto et al., 2015).

Based on the existing mental health disparities among QTPOC, the need exists for enhanced awareness and education about how to promote safe and affirming therapeutic environments for QTPOC clients. Recent research indicates that QTPOC’s mental health outcomes, sense of belonging, and overall well-being are dependent on interactions with others both on the micro and macro levels. For example, how QTPOC are referred to by counselors or administrative staff and how welcomed they feel as members of their community significantly impact their overall mental health and well-being (Pflum et al., 2015). At the same time, QTPOC often experience stressors related to state and federal anti-LGBTQIA+ legislation and lack of competency from non-QTPOC counselors and other health care professionals, possibly leading to feelings of exclusion (Dispenza & O’Hara, 2016; Horne et al., 2022). Counselors and researchers have emphasized the need for addressing issues of racism, homophobia, and transphobia in clinical practices, counselor education programs, and broader societal contexts (Dispenza & O’Hara, 2016; Miller et al., 2018; Mizock & Lundquist, 2016).

Mental Health Concerns for Queer and Transgender People of Color
     In recent decades, there has been an increase in research examining the social experiences of minoritized groups, including queer adults, transgender individuals, and people of color (Brooks, 1981; Flanders et al., 2019; Meyer, 2003; Testa et al., 2015). These studies have highlighted substantial disparities in mental health and well-being among these populations, often linked to experiences of discrimination and marginalization. Research indicates that QTPOC are particularly vulnerable to mental health issues because of the intersecting impacts of racism, heterosexism, and transphobia. For instance, a study examining factors related to depression and anxiety for lesbian, gay, and bisexual people of color found that both distal and proximal minority stressors accounted for 33% of the variance in participants’ mental health outcomes (Ramirez & Galupo, 2019). This dual marginalization often leads to cumulative forms of discrimination, including social exclusion from both larger society and within their own communities. QTPOC may face racism within the LGBTQIA+ community and heterosexism or transphobia within their racial and ethnic groups (Cyrus, 2017). Despite these challenges, social support and community connectedness have been identified as critical resources that can buffer the effects of stigma and promote resilience among QTPOC. For example, social support from individuals who are empathetic toward discriminatory experiences can shield young African American LGBTQIA+ youth from the distress associated with intersectional discrimination, fostering a sense of affirmation for their identities and enhancing their autonomy in help-seeking behaviors (Hailey et al., 2020).

Community connectedness has also been linked to positive outcomes among QTPOC (Roberts & Christens, 2020). Roberts and Christens (2020) found that being open about one’s sexual or gender identity (i.e., outness) is beneficial to the well-being of White participants, but not directly for Black and Latinx participants. Instead, the positive effects of outness on well-being for these groups are mediated by their connectedness to the LGBTQIA+ community (Roberts & Christens, 2020). However, the effectiveness of community connectedness can vary. For example, McConnell and colleagues (2018) reported that community connectedness had a weaker mediating effect on the relationship between stigma and stress in sexually minoritized men of color compared to their White counterparts, suggesting that racial stigma may diminish the protective effects of community connectedness. Establishing community connectedness with other QTPOC may foster positive within-community relationships that extend beyond discrete identity groups, enabling members to feel acknowledged and accepted, and leading to positive reappraisals about their identities (Ghabrial & Andersen, 2021; G. Smith et al., 2022). Despite the potential utility gained by understanding factors that promote coping and resilience, there is still a lack of research examining their impact on the mental health and well-being of QTPOC. Emerging research has begun to explore potential sources of everyday coping and resilience, such as the study of microaffirmations.

Microaffirmations
     Microaffirmations are defined as small verbal or nonverbal communications that signal support, encouragement, or validation (Ellis et al., 2019; Rowe, 2008). Despite their subtle nature, microaffirmations can be intentional or unintentional, with some occurring as deliberate acts of affirmation while others emerge naturally in everyday interactions (Rowe, 2008). Rowe (2008), who first introduced the concept, posited that for underrepresented groups, daily occurrences of marginalization may go overlooked or be diminished within hierarchical power structures. As members of these groups often struggle with feeling appreciated and accepted within disempowering environments, microaffirmations may effectively counter these negative experiences by disrupting processes that promote social exclusion and oppression (Ellis et al., 2019). Microaffirmations normalize and acknowledge the contributions of marginalized individuals, offer individuals support during times of distress, and empower disenfranchised group members to leverage their strengths to maximize their potential (Rowe, 2008). In general, microaffirmations function as a tool of social reinforcement to bolster productivity by engendering a sense of belonging, fostering inclusion, and enhancing well-being (Topor et al., 2018).

Over the past decade, microaffirmations have emerged as a potential protective factor against the detrimental impact of prejudice and discrimination (Pérez Huber et al., 2021; Rolón-Dow & Davison, 2021). In particular, the underlying behavioral mechanisms of microaffirmations are implicated in reducing intergroup conflict stemming from social stratification and stigma (Jones & Rolón-Dow, 2018; Rolón-Dow & Davison, 2021). Although microaffirmations were initially developed within the workplace literature to address the experiences of cisgender women, recent work has extended the concept’s application to further marginalized groups, including people of color and the LGBTQIA+ community. Microaffirmations can play an important role in the lives of LGBTQIA+ individuals by communicating acceptance, extending social support, and affirming their identity (Flanders et al., 2019). For example, in a cross-sectional study with LGBTQIA+ adolescents, Sterzing and Gartner (2020) found that receiving microaffirmations from family members was associated with a reduction in symptoms of depression, distress, emotional dysregulation, and suicidality. Similarly, interpersonal microaffirmations have also been associated with fewer symptoms of anxiety and stress (Flanders, 2015) and are frequently referred to as impactful experiences of affirmation among bisexual people (Flanders et al., 2019). However, some studies suggest that the effects of microaffirmations may be limited or context-dependent. For example, DeLucia and Smith (2021) found that microaffirmations from mental health providers had no impact on bisexual people’s intentions to seek mental health treatment, whereas experiences of biphobia negatively influenced these intentions. Similarly, Salim et al. (2019) found no association between microaffirmations and happiness among bisexual women. These findings suggest that the effects of microaffirmations may be context-dependent, influencing some aspects of well-being while having little impact on others. Although microaffirmations may foster a sense of validation and support, they may not necessarily translate into behavioral changes, such as help-seeking. These varying results highlight the need for further research on microaffirmations to understand their impact on well-being within different social contexts and systems of power and privilege.

In contrast, research with transgender adults has shown relatively consistent and positive outcomes associated with microaffirmations. Using thematic analysis, Anzani and colleagues (2019) found that microaffirmations may strengthen the therapeutic alliance and enhance perceived treatment satisfaction and efficacy for transgender clients. Scholars have also investigated racial-specific microaffirmations, conceptualized as acts, cues, or verbal utterances that validate racial identities, acknowledge lived experiences, and promote racial justice norms (Rolón-Dow & Davison, 2021). While microaffirmations may have a lesser psychological impact, incidence rate, and intensity than microaggressions (Jones & Rolón-Dow, 2018), they may function to counteract and partially repair the cumulative effects of insidious everyday acts of racism (Pérez Huber et al., 2021). Racial microaffirmations can promote healing through shared cultural intimacy, enabling supportive community members to engage in a cumulative and responsive process of acknowledgment and support that can be both protective and restorative in the context of structural racism (Pérez Huber et al., 2021).

The Current Study
     The theoretical framework for this study is grounded in Minority Stress Theory (MST; Brooks, 1981; Meyer, 2003) and Rolón-Dow and Davison’s (2021) typology of microaffirmations. MST posits that the stress experienced by individuals with stigmatized identities is not due to the identity itself but arises from external prejudice and discrimination, as well as internalized stigma (Brooks, 1981; Meyer, 2003). For QTPOC, these stressors are compounded by intersecting forms of racism, heterosexism, and transphobia. This framework highlights the unique stressors faced by QTPOC and underscores the need to understand the multifaceted nature of their experiences. In addition to MST, this study draws on the typology of racial microaffirmations from a critical race/LatCrit approach developed by Rolón-Dow and Davison (2021), which includes four forms: microrecognitions, microprotections, microtransformations, and microvalidations. Each type can be understood as different feelings arising from behaviors, verbal statements, or environmental cues. Microrecognitions involve feeling acknowledged and included (e.g., Pride flags, signage), microprotections offer a sense of being shielded from disparagement (e.g., support and advocacy from others), microtransformations foster a deep sense of belonging and capability (e.g., individuals or institutions advocating for federal and state policies that protect LGBTQ+ rights), and microvalidations affirm that one’s thoughts, feelings, and behaviors are accepted and valued (e.g., QTPOC-specific spaces). While MST has provided a valuable framework for understanding QTPOC mental health disparities, there remains a need to explore how protective factors, such as microaffirmations, can mitigate the negative impact of discrimination on QTPOC. Microaffirmations, though subtle, normalize marginalized communities’ existence and place in society and may counterbalance the pervasive negative experiences of marginalization. Despite the promising research on microaffirmations for individual marginalized groups, research specifically focusing on the impact of microaffirmations on QTPOC is still limited. Given the significant mental health disparities faced by QTPOC and the potential of microaffirmations as a protective factor, this study aimed to deepen the understanding of these dynamics and identify effective strategies for fostering resilience and improving mental health outcomes among QTPOC. The purpose of this study was to 1) explore how QTPOC describe and understand microaffirmations and 2) investigate the specific types of microaffirmations in relation to the mental health and well-being of QTPOC.

Method

The current study employed an interpretive phenomenological design. Interpretive phenomenology is a rigorous qualitative methodology that seeks to uncover participants’ meaning-making processes—comprising their understandings, perceptions, and experiences—related to their lived experiences with a particular phenomenon (J. A. Smith et al., 2009). Interpretive phenomenological analysis (IPA) focuses analytically on the personal meaning-making of participants within specific contexts (J. A. Smith et al., 2009). Through this method, themes are systematically identified and leveraged to construct interpretive descriptions of participants’ narratives, providing insight into the meanings and essences of their lived experiences with the phenomenon.

Participants and Procedures
     Institutional review board approval was secured prior to participant recruitment or data collection, and all participants gave consent via the online survey. Data was collected during the summer of 2023 and participants were recruited through recruitment flyers and emails via social media, LGBTQIA+ listservs, snowball sampling, and national listservs and interest networks. Eligible participants were asked to respond to an online survey to complete a brief demographic survey and were then contacted by the researchers to schedule a virtual interview. Eligibility criteria included: 18 years of age or older and capable of providing informed consent, identifying as a person of color with a marginalized sexual and/or gender identity, and currently living in the United States or U.S. territories. Interviews took place privately on a video-conferencing platform and were recorded and transcribed for data collection purposes. Participants who completed the interview were provided with a $25 e-gift card as an incentive for participation in the study. Participant demographics are presented in Table 1. All participants (N = 14) identified as a person of color; ages 22–46; sexual identities included queer, bisexual, asexual, demisexual, and gay/lesbian; gender identities included cisgender man, cisgender woman, and non-binary/gender-expansive. Racially and ethnically, participants identified as Filipino, Black/African American, Afro-Caribbean, Chinese American, Latino/a/x, Vietnamese, and Chinese. All participants held a postsecondary degree including bachelor’s, master’s, or doctorate degrees.

All participants engaged in one 60-minute semi-structured interview, which consisted of 19 open-ended questions and prompts aimed at exploring participants’ lived experiences with microaffirmations and the utility of microaffirmations in their daily lives. Drawing from Rolón-Dow & Davison’s (2021) typology of microaffirmations, the interview protocol (see Appendix) was designed to explore participants’ experiences with the four forms of microaffirmations: microrecognitions, microprotections, microtransformations, and microvalidations. For example, the question “Could you describe everyday experiences that made you feel that your thoughts, feelings, sensations, and/or behaviors associated with your lived experience as [insert identity] are accepted, legitimized, or given value?” was formulated to invite participants to reflect on whether they experienced microvalidations. This open-ended question was followed up with questions such as “If you haven’t experienced that, what do you think positive acknowledgment and understanding of your identity and lived experience would look like?” and “In what ways do you think more positive acknowledgment and understanding would impact you directly?” Audio files were recorded using a secure device and stored in a restricted access folder on the researcher’s university department server. Files were used for transcription purposes only and destroyed after the transcription process was complete.

Data Analysis
     The data analysis process adhered to the established analytic procedures of IPA outlined by J. A. Smith and colleagues (2009). IPA is characterized by its interactive and inductive approach, focusing on how individuals make sense of their specific lived experiences. The interpretive nature of IPA allows for interpretations that may diverge from the participant’s original text, provided these interpretations are rooted in a close examination of the participant’s words (J. A. Smith et al., 2009).

Initially, the interviews were transcribed verbatim and meticulously reviewed by the research team to understand their context. During this preliminary phase, bracketing and initial coding were performed to describe the interview content. Each interview was individually analyzed to identify central concepts before finding commonalities across interviews (J. A. Smith et al., 2009). The researchers then utilized these initial codes and the original transcripts to identify emergent themes and patterns, employing techniques like abstraction and subsumption to develop superordinate themes. These steps were repeated for each of the participants individually to allow for new themes to emerge by case before superordinate themes were compared across participant cases corresponding to the central research questions.

Table 1

Participant Demographic Information

Participant

(pronouns)

Age Gender Identity Sexual Identity Race/Ethnicity Highest Degree
April

(she/her)

29 Cisgender woman Asexual, Demisexual Chinese American Master’s degree
Baohua

(not disclosed)

36 Cisgender man Gay Asian or Asian American Master’s degree
D

(she/her)

28 Cisgender woman Lesbian, Demisexual Black or African American Master’s degree
Didi

(not disclosed)

27 Cisgender woman Bisexual Latino/a/x or Hispanic Bachelor’s degree
Dwayne

(he/him)

46 Cisgender man Gay Black or African American Master’s degree
Faith

(she/her)

23 Cisgender woman Lesbian, Bisexual, Questioning Filipino Bachelor’s degree
J

(he/him)

31 Cisgender man Bisexual Filipino Doctorate degree
Jane

(she/her)

36 Cisgender woman Queer Black or African American Doctorate degree
Kay

(she/her)

27 Cisgender woman Bisexual, Queer Black/Afro-Caribbean Master’s degree
Lucia

(they/them)

26 Gender-expansive Queer Filipino Master’s degree
Nick

(he/him)

27 Cisgender man Gay Black or African American Bachelor’s degree
Oliver

(he/him/any)

22 Cisgender man Gay, Queer Vietnamese Bachelor’s degree
QL

(not disclosed)

29 Gender-expansive Queer Chinese Master’s degree
Stacey

(she/her)

29 Cisgender woman Bisexual African American & Caribbean American Doctorate degree

 

Trustworthiness and Researcher Positionality
     Our research team consisted of one Black bisexual/queer cisgender female faculty member, one Black queer genderfluid faculty member, four doctoral counseling students, and two master’s counseling students. The students on the research team identify as members of various races/ethnicities, genders, and sexual orientations. All members of the research team either work in or are enrolled in CACREP-accredited counselor education or APA-accredited counseling psychology programs, and all researchers have clinical experience working with diverse populations. To increase opportunities for candid conversations about the role of race/ethnicity, gender, sexuality, and intersectionality with participants throughout the interview process, interviews were conducted by members of the research team who identify as racially/ethnically minoritized, gender-expansive, and/or queer.

Several well-established methodological strategies were employed throughout data collection and analysis to enhance the credibility and trustworthiness of the findings. Multiple coders and peer audits of codes and themes were used to further explore themes, patterns, and interpretations; challenge assumptions; and provide additional insights. This approach is a recognized strategy for enhancing credibility in qualitative research (Yardley, 2008). The involvement of multiple coders and peer audits also served as a check against normative assumptions, prompting researchers to consider how systemic biases might influence their interpretations. Additionally, the research team conducted member checks with participants to verify the accuracy of themes and interpretations. Following the example of Lincoln and Guba (1985), the research team conducted member checks to allow participants to react to the data and the research team’s interpretations before their feedback was incorporated into the presentation of the findings. Participants who engaged in the member check process were provided with a $10 e-gift card as a token of appreciation. The participants’ feedback was not merely a validation step but also a critical engagement with their lived experiences, contributing to a more comprehensive representation of their narratives. The research team met weekly to engage in reflexive discussions about our assumptions, biases, personal worldviews, questions, and concerns related to our research processes, analyses, interpretations, and conclusions.

Results

An in-depth phenomenological analysis of the 14 participant interviews resulted in identification of five superordinate themes related to understanding the role of microaffirmations among QTPOC. Superordinate themes include influence of identity development, safety with others, envisioning policy changes, representation, and internalization of perceived worth.

Influence of Identity Development
     The theme influence of identity development reflected how participants understood the utility of microaffirmations in relation to their racial, gender, and sexual identity development. Participants at earlier stages of identity development emphasized the importance of microvalidations and microrecognitions, which provided support and validation as they navigated internal conflict, such as questioning their identity or experiencing self-doubt. For example, April, a 29-year-old asexual/demisexual Chinese American woman, shared that she was still discovering her identity and sometimes felt “a little bit ambiguous about where I’m located on the map.” She highlighted how microvalidations—subtle signs of being recognized and valued—helped her feel seen and supported during this uncertain time:

The other person listening to me or asking me questions that make me feel seen . . . I would say people noticing the pieces that are authentic to who I am and people being willing to spend time listening to me and asking follow-up questions. That is affirming.

Similarly, Faith, a 23-year-old lesbian/bisexual Filipino woman, described herself as “either bisexual or gay, not sure which one yet,” and reflected on how microrecognitions, such as being acknowledged in conversations or within social settings, validated her evolving identity. These early-stage participants frequently described microvalidations and microrecognitions as pivotal in affirming their personal experiences and alleviating internal struggles with identity. In contrast, participants who were more secure and confident in their identities—representing a later stage in their identity development—emphasized a need for microprotections and microtransformations—types of microaffirmations that extend beyond individual validation to encompass broader social change. These participants valued microprotections, which offer safeguarding measures for the QTPOC community against discrimination and prejudice, and microtransformations, which focus on creating systemic changes to improve the quality of life for all QTPOC. For example, Jane, a 36-year-old queer Black woman, discussed how educators can implement microtransformations by using their influence to normalize queer identities within the classroom:

I feel like if we were to learn about [QTPOC] as historical figures and learn about them, like in health class for example, it would help us in other interpersonal contexts and making relationships. It would also normalize treating [QTPOC] as people and with kindness.

Jane’s reflection illustrates the potential for microtransformations to contribute to systemic shifts in how QTPOC are viewed and treated in society. Participants at this later stage of identity development sought microaffirmations that not only validated their personal identities but also fostered more inclusive environments through microprotections and broader societal shifts. These microprotections, such as inclusive policies in schools or workplaces, safeguard QTPOC from harmful discrimination, while microtransformations create opportunities for long-term structural changes that challenge structural inequities and create more affirming environments for QTPOC.

Safety with Others
     The theme safety with others represented participants’ experiences of how microaffirmations, particularly microvalidations and microrecognitions, signaled safety in their external environments, indicating that they could express their identities without fear or discrimination. Many participants spoke about the importance of microaffirmations being a way to subtly indicate that an area or person in their external environment is less likely to discriminate, alienate, or be violent toward them. Lucia, a 26-year-old gender-expansive queer Filipino, highlighted the role of microrecognitions in fostering a sense of security: “Microaffirmations communicate safety to me, like, say, from my external environment, that I can then disclose, fully disclose, who I actually am to people . . . So [microaffirmations] are definitely an aspect of safety and being out or not.” For Lucia, small but significant acts of recognition, such as visual cues or verbal affirmations from others, provided reassurance that their identity would be accepted and protected in that space. Similarly, D, a 28-year-old lesbian/demisexual Black woman, shared that microvalidations, such as seeing the Pride flag displayed in public spaces, gave her a sense of immediate comfort and safety: “I can breathe and relax and like, oh, I can exist in this space.” These microvalidations, subtle yet powerful, signaled that the space was affirming and protective of her identity.

Beyond personal safety, participants also reflected on the protective role of microprotections. Some participants, like Jane, described how microprotections in her environment gave her confidence that she would not be alone if a negative situation occurred: “[Microaffirmations] were a sign that there was some kind of protection and backup, that if something goes wrong, that I’m not in it by myself . . . I’m not going to be piled on . . . or outwardly rejected.” This sentiment highlights how microprotections create a sense of communal support, with which participants know that others will ally with them in moments of potential conflict or discrimination. Stacey, a 29-year-old bisexual African American and Caribbean American woman, elaborated on how the cumulative effect of microaffirmations contributed to her overall sense of safety: “When you have more microaffirmations than aggressions . . . you, I, tend to feel safer.” In this instance, Stacey underscored the idea that frequent experiences of affirmation—whether through microvalidations or microrecognitions—help mitigate the impact of microaggressions, allowing her to feel more secure in her identity. Oliver, a gay/queer Vietnamese man, further reflected on how the absence of microaffirmations could leave him feeling vulnerable: “If I didn’t have the experiences of microaffirmations that I did today, I would just feel . . . less mentally secure generally.” Oliver’s observation emphasizes the protective nature of microaffirmations, in that their presence contributed not only to a sense of physical safety but also to psychological security.

Envisioning Policy Changes
     The theme envisioning policy changes captured participants’ reflections on the broader implications of microaffirmations, specifically their potential to influence policy and create systemic change. Participants shared their views on both the immediate benefits of microaffirmations and their limitations in addressing larger structural issues. The role of microaffirmations was seen as a necessary component of personal healing from the often-daily trauma of microaggressions but was not sufficient to address systemic inequities. Instead, participants stated that microaffirmations should serve as stepping stones toward inclusive laws and policies. Microprotections, such as individuals expressing their support for policies that provide legal safeguards and affirming spaces, were seen as critical for improving the well-being of QTPOC. Lucia advocated for increased health and gender-affirming care protections: “We need increased protections for health and gender-affirming care, and not just in certain states but nationally.” Lucia’s desire for more inclusive policies highlights the role of microprotections in safeguarding the rights and well-being of QTPOC at a systemic level. Similarly, Stacey emphasized the need for broader legal changes to contend with book bans and the censorship of LGBTQIA+ content in public schools:

I find book bans and the banning of specific conversations in public schools to be very harmful. I primarily work with adolescents and their families, and I believe a lot of stuff starts in childhood, and if we are sending the message to children that queer people shouldn’t exist or that we can’t talk about it, it creates generations of harm.

Stacey’s reflection illustrates how microprotections can counteract systemic exclusion and ensure that QTPOC youth are represented and affirmed in public education.

Microtransformations, on the other hand, were described as the support for far-reaching changes in policies and societal norms that would fundamentally improve the daily lives of QTPOC. Kay, a bisexual/queer Black/Afro-Caribbean woman, noted that while microaffirmations were helpful in buffering the effects of daily microaggressions, they were not enough to dismantle deeply embedded systemic oppression:

So, I think microaffirmations are a buffer to all the aggressions, violence, harm, and trauma that’s happening consistently, but it doesn’t necessarily erase the harm and the violence. But it does provide, at least for me, a buffer mentally. Because I feel if I experience a microaggression, and if I internalize it, that can add to deeper trauma. And microaffirmations can help me externalize that and know that even though it hurts, that it’s not me. I’m not gonna sit in that with that person. And so, I think it’s a great buffer.

Kay’s awareness of the limitations of microaffirmations underscores the importance of advocating for systemic reforms that extend beyond individual or community-level affirmations. There was a marked urgency in advocating for national-level policy changes, such as the expansion of health care access and “full adoption rights for same-sex parents” (Baohua, a 36-year-old gay Asian man). Baohua’s comments reflect the urgent need for uniform protections and policies that support QTPOC regardless of geographic location. Dwayne, a 46-year-old Black gay man, similarly advocated for accessible and inclusive mental health care services as a form of microtransformation, stating that “Making mental health care more accessible and acceptable for all of us should be a priority.” Dwayne’s insight connects microtransformations to health equity, pointing out that long-term systemic improvements are needed to ensure that QTPOC have equal access to health services. Ultimately, dissatisfaction with current policies was prevalent, with participants advocating for equitable reforms that go beyond affirming language and instead target holistic care. Some found it challenging to specify exact policies but envisioned that supportive policies would enhance their well-being and enable easier connections, more energy, and fuller participation in daily life.

Representation
     The theme of representation reflected participants’ experiences of engaging with microaffirmations that represent their lived experiences as QTPOC from external sources through visual or vocal cues, as well as participants’ creation of their own microaffirming external sources for others to feel represented through.

External Representation
     Representation that was received or seen via microvalidations and microrecognitions was critical in helping participants feel affirmed in their racial/ethnic and gender/sexual identities. J, a 31-year-old bisexual Filipino man, emphasized how social media representations during Pride Month and Asian American Pacific Islander (AAPI) Heritage Month made him feel both his queer and racial identities were not only seen but celebrated:

What comes to mind right away is just Instagram stories and just seeing most of my timeline having some sort of Pride tag or Pride sticker on their stories . . . And also last month during AAPI Heritage Month, those Instagram stories and having the little sticker—it’s really nice to see a bunch of signs of like, “hey, we’re celebrating you!” and “hey, I’m a part of this group too!”

For J, these microrecognitions on social media provided him with a sense of visibility and belonging, reinforcing that the community valued his intersectional identity. Participants throughout shared that visible external representation like affirming signage, Pride flags, racially and LGBTQIA+ diverse TV shows such as Heartstopper, LGBTQIA+ bumper stickers, hashtags, social media posts, and even seeing LGBTQIA+ folks being successful in a variety of different careers were viewed as affirming of their queer identities. Having external representation through a variety of sources not only made participants feel like their identities were being celebrated, but some participants, like Kay, also believed that external representations are microprotections that are “counteracting or disrupting” people from being “harmful” and deterring discrimination.

Created Representation
     Though experiencing representation was important, many found that actively creating microaffirmations and making their own representation for themselves and others was also imperative to their well-being. Many saw themselves as change agents, contributing to microtransformations by normalizing conversations about their sexual and gender identities, establishing safe spaces, and engaging in activism that benefited other QTPOC. Dwayne spoke about how his life journey recently involved stepping into a leadership role, in which he felt responsible for creating representation for others:

I guess . . . when it comes to people who are capable of trying to help others, [they realize] that there is sometimes a shortage of people who can be that spokesperson, or be that leader, to be that example, or that exemplary person. They can be in the forefront. . . . And so, I think where I’m at now, just in my life journey, is that . . . I’m coming into that space.

By creating visibility for himself, Dwayne was actively contributing to the creation of microtransformations. Stacey shared the importance of fostering inclusivity for future generations, particularly her children. She explained how creating affirming spaces at home, such as by exposing her children to diverse representations of queer families, was a way to contribute to future microprotections: “[I want to] have them reading books and you know, expose them to other queer families and let them know that this is normal.” By normalizing having conversations about the LGBTQIA+ community, not only is knowledge being shared, but the likelihood increases that youth who may resonate with identities within the community may experience less queer- and race-related microaggressions than their predecessors (Houshmand et al., 2019).

Internalization of Perceived Worth
     The theme internalization of perceived worth not only highlighted participants’ internalization of microaffirmations regarding their individual and collective sense of worth but also how the source of these microaffirmations influenced their impact. Microvalidations were often described as contributing to their mental and emotional well-being. For example, Didi, a 27-year-old bisexual Latina woman, shared how microaffirmations helped her feel less overwhelmed and more validated in her identity: “[Microaffirmations] really help me feel validated and, in terms of mental health, I feel like it makes me feel less overwhelmed.” For Didi, these microvalidations provided emotional support that helped her manage the daily stressors associated with navigating stigma and other social barriers. Microrecognitions were also described as crucial in helping participants internalize a sense of worth. For some, like Nick, a 27-year-old gay Black man, internalized validation from microaffirmations not only makes participants feel like their identities as QTPOC are valid but may also provide QTPOC with “better mental health.” QL, a 29-year-old queer gender-expansive Chinese person, also spoke about how microaffirmations helped with their mental well-being and made them feel “affirmed” and “really good,” and that “in some ways it helps with the anxiety. It helps with the depression.”

Another aspect of the theme internalization of perceived worth involves the source of microaffirmations, which influenced how deeply these affirmations impacted their sense of self-worth. Microaffirmations from people with shared or similar identities were particularly meaningful, as these individuals could better understand and relate to the participants’ experiences. April explained that she primarily found validation for her identity within her relationship: “I feel that affirmation of my identifying as demisexual primarily only comes from my own relationship [with my partner].” For April, the microaffirmations she received from her partner were more impactful than those from others because they were rooted in a shared understanding of her identity and experiences. Similarly, Kay shared that the most meaningful microaffirmations often come from her queer friends who share similar marginalized identities: “The microaffirmations carry more weight when they come from my friends who are queer and/or genderfluid or trans . . . because I feel like we all know what we’re going through and we can all support each other.”

This idea that internalized perceived worth or validation comes from those with similar queer and/or trans and racial/ethnic identities was also expressed by Baohua when he described the microaffirmations he received from his friends who also identify as QTPOC, despite cultural differences:

Or maybe they experience some challenges, and I feel like that’s relatable. It’s like . . .  we’re speaking in the same language. We’re experiencing similar things. . . . That kind of gives me . . . like different validation to say, hey, we are here, right? Even though that’s very old—we’re here, we’re queer, whatever. But it’s like we are here, and we are living life despite different social or political challenges that we’re facing.

Baohua’s statement highlights how microrecognitions from peers with similar identities can bolster one’s sense of worth and community, reinforcing the idea that they are not alone in their experiences.

Discussion

All 14 participants expressed various experiences of microaffirmations as queer and/or transgender people of color. Themes found in this study’s results (i.e., influence of identity development, safety with others, envisioning policy changes, representation, and internalization of perceived worth) align with and expand on the growing body of literature on microaffirmations’ role in the LGBTQIA+ community (Anzani et al., 2019; Flanders et al., 2019; Pulice-Farrow et al., 2019; Sterzing & Gartner, 2020) and marginalized racial/ethnic communities (Pérez Huber et al., 2021; Rolón-Dow & Davison, 2021). Despite the topic of microaffirmations becoming more prevalent in scholarly literature, there is still a dearth of research that looks at defining and understanding the impacts of microaffirmations for those with both marginalized gender and/or sexual identities and marginalized racial/ethnic identities. Elements of Rolón-Dow and Davison’s subcategories of microaffirmations were used as a foundation for this study’s current superordinate themes.

For the theme of influence of identity development, participants discussed their experiences with microaffirmations that supported and validated their individual identity and other microaffirmations that applied to the broader queer community. For those in the earlier stages of their identity development, the presence of microaffirmations seemed to mitigate any internalized conflict or discrimination related to their queer identities, compared to those in later stages of identity development. These findings aligned with various LGBTQIA+ identity development models, such as D’Augelli’s (1994) Model of Lesbian, Gay, and Bisexual Identity Development and the Model of Multiple Dimensions of Identity (Abes et al., 2007). It seemed that participants who were in the earlier stages of their queer and/or transgender identity development found microaffirmations to be more impactful when they were directed toward them as individuals versus those who were in later stages and had a more community/systemic viewpoint. The differences in identity developmental stages may also be explained by Roberts and Christens (2020), who reported that Black and Latinx participants, when “out,” experienced positive outcomes when they experienced a sense of connectedness to the LGBTQIA+ community. The results of this study (Roberts & Christens, 2020) suggest that those in later stages of development based on how “out” they are may have more ties to other QTPOC. Similar findings from Ghabrial and Andersen (2021) and G. Smith and colleagues (2022) further support the positive impact of community connectedness on participants’ experiences. Perhaps participants in later stages of their identity development are more likely to be out and intentional about finding QTPOC spaces, therefore feeling more validated by microaffirmations directed at the broader queer community instead of those targeting them individually.

For the theme safety with others, participants emphasized their experiences with microaffirmations that signaled safe spaces, individuals, and organizations. This theme aligns with Rolón-Dow and Davison’s (2021) subcategories of microaffirmations, specifically microvalidations and microprotections. Hudson and Romanelli’s (2020) findings, which highlight the fostering of safety and acceptance by the LGBTQ community as a strength and health-promoting factor for LGBTQ adults of color, align with this theme. Participants mentioned that being around other QTPOC allowed them to fully disclose their sexual and gender identities and authentically be themselves. Though participants primarily focused on feelings of safety regarding their marginalized sexual and/or gender identities, many, like Baohua, also mentioned examples of microaffirmations that validated and instilled feelings of safety for both these identities and their racial/ethnic identities. The microaffirmations could potentially reduce the negative mental health–related issues experienced by the participants in this study (Topor et al., 2018).

Regarding the theme envisioning policy changes, participants reflected on the broader implications of microaffirmations and their potential to influence policy and create systemic change. They shared that these microaffirmations also provided immediate benefits, supporting previous literature which reported that gender-affirming policies are associated with positive mental health outcomes among transgender individuals (Horne et al., 2022). However, many of our participants discussed the impact of current anti-LGBTQIA+ legislation and the potential effects of future legislation at both the federal and local levels on the LGBTQIA+ community. Similar to the theme influence on identity development, the centrality of community connectedness and protection was evident when participants talked about both current and future policy changes. This is supported by Hudson and Romanelli (2020), who proposed that QTPOC have a future orientation focused on investing in and improving opportunities for health and well-being for current and future community members. The fourth theme, microaffirmations as representation, was shared by participants as external representations from outside sources, as well as how participants themselves created microaffirmations for others. While previous literature (McInroy & Craig, 2017) also identified external representations of QTPOC, many participants also underlined the importance of being the provider of various forms of microaffirmations. Participants emphasized the importance of actively generating microaffirmations that provided representation for other QTPOC folks. These examples included conducting affirmative research on QTPOC, compiling resources with positive QTPOC representation, and stepping into leadership roles in the LGBTQIA+ community. Hudson and Romanelli (2020) noted that QTPOC involved in activism and advocacy were more likely to be aware of structural and social injustices that can negatively impact the well-being of individuals in the LGBTQIA+ community.

The final theme, internalization of perceived worth focuses on how microaffirmations are internalized and shape participants’ sense of self and collective worth, as well as the impact of microaffirmations based on participants’ relationship with the giver of the microaffirmations. Ghabrial (2019) suggests that for marginalized individuals, feeling that one’s marginalized identity can be viewed as a positive aspect can foster resilience and resolve when experiencing discrimination. This may explain why participants such as Didi felt less overwhelmed and participants like Stacey felt hope when receiving microaffirmations. For these two participants, their positive viewpoints on their sexual identities encouraged them not only in their identities but also in advocating for themselves and other QTPOC. Microaffirmations may therefore be one reason why QTPOC feel motivated to participate in advocacy efforts. Another element of this theme that participants discussed is the impact of internalizing perceived worth depending on the source of the microaffirmation. While microaffirmations from anyone were appreciated, some participants emphasized the positive impact of microaffirmations received from those within the LGBTQIA+ community or from close relationships, whether platonic, familial, or romantic. In a study focusing on transgender individuals and their romantic relationships, Pulice-Farrow and colleagues (2019) reported that participants found microaffirmations more meaningful when they came from romantic partners rather than strangers, as it affirmed the importance of the relationship. This idea also expands on the work by Delston (2021), who suggested that individuals from vulnerable groups seek environments where they feel valued, appreciated, and included. Delston also warns that microaffirmation recipients should be aware of where and from whom they receive microaffirmations, as they may be influenced to make life decisions based on biased external influences, such as a QTPOC only having their identity affirmed by limiting White LGBTQIA+ sources. This study’s findings indicate that microaffirmations from those in close relationships with QTPOC may have a greater impact than those from strangers or large organizations, highlighting the necessity for QTPOC to be cautious of the giver of microaffirmations and the importance of QTPOC to create intentional and affirming support systems.

Implications for Counselors
     Given the nuanced understanding of microaffirmations and their profound impact on QTPOC, counselors working with this population can draw several practice implications to foster resilience and improve mental health outcomes. First, it is essential for counselors to recognize the various stages of identity development their QTPOC clients may be undergoing. Clients in the early stages of identity development may benefit significantly from microvalidations and microrecognitions that affirm their identities and experiences, helping them navigate internalized discrimination. Engaging in active listening, providing reflections and follow-up questions, and validating clients’ feelings and identities are vital strategies for those still exploring their sexual and gender identities.

Counselors must also establish environments where QTPOC clients feel safe and affirmed. This can be achieved by incorporating visible signs of support, such as Pride flags or inclusive posters, and using affirming language that communicates safety. Counselors must also check their biases, assumptions, and competencies around QTPOC identities and how they intersect (e.g., continuing education, LGBTQ+/QTPOC affirming supervision/consultation). As Delston (2021) proposed, microaffirmations may influence a person’s decisions based on who and where they came from. Well-intentioned counselors may further perpetuate harmful stereotypes or affirm QTPOC clients from a narrow White, Western perspective that limits influence from these clients’ racial/ethnic background, thereby creating an unsafe environment.

Furthermore, counselors should understand the importance of advocating for inclusive policies. Outside of sessions, counselors can educate themselves and advocate for pro-LGBTQIA+ legislation that would benefit QTPOC. By engaging in advocacy and policy work, counselors can help create a safe and supportive environment that extends beyond the counseling office. Counselors can also seek out positive representations of QTPOC in media, which may allow them to be better able to connect with clients in session by demonstrating their understanding of social and cultural references. However, non-QTPOC counselors should engage with those materials in good faith and avoid performative advocacy with clients, such as having Pride flags hanging in their office but not having resources specific to the needs of QTPOC clients. Moreover, in session, counselors can help clients outline close relationships and safe spaces affirming QTPOC clients’ identities and refer clients with limited support to QTPOC resources locally and virtually. Counselors can also incorporate expressive art therapy techniques into sessions that provide QTPOC clients creative outlets that allow them to not only express themselves but also to be productive by sharing their creations with others as a form of authentic queer representation (Buttram, 2015).

Finally, counselors can support QTPOC clients in fostering internalized worth by consistently using affirming language, adopting a strengths-based approach, and facilitating connections with other QTPOC via group counseling services or within the community. Providing psychoeducation about the impact of discrimination along with employing narrative counseling techniques can help clients reframe their personal stories. By recognizing the unique experiences and needs of QTPOC clients, counselors can play a pivotal role in fostering environments that promote mental health, resilience, and a strong sense of worth, both on an interpersonal, therapeutic level and within the broader societal context.

Limitations and Future Directions
     This study, while providing valuable insights into the role of microaffirmations for QTPOC, has several limitations that should be noted. During the time of interviews, most participants identified as cisgender, their gender identity aligning with their sex assigned at birth, providing limiting perspectives of those with gender-expansive identities. Most participants were also Millennials (born 1981 to 1996) and older Gen Zs (born 1997 to 2010; Dimock, 2019), which limits perspectives of what may be considered microaffirmations from older generations of QTPOC who historically experienced less and/or different affirmations in their lives. Future research should aim to include a larger and more diverse sample to enhance the generalizability of the findings.

Another limitation of this study was that it did not ask participants for their regional location. Though some participants shared where they lived in their interviews, knowing regional locations may have helped to understand if participants from similar regions experienced similar types and frequency of microaffirmations. Future research should explore the experiences of QTPOC in specific geographical regions and cultural settings to capture and compare regional differences.

An additional crucial limitation is that, though the study did require participants to be currently living in the United States, there were a few participants who were either immigrants who had lived part of their developmental years in another country or were international students who came to the United States later in life. Though these participants shared their experiences, interview questions did not consider the added marginalized identities of being an immigrant/non–U.S. citizen. Future research is warranted to investigate the utility of microaffirmations for undocumented or non–U.S. citizen QTPOC. Lastly, there is a need for more intervention-based research to develop and test specific counseling strategies that effectively utilize microaffirmations to support QTPOC clients.

Conclusion
     This study expanded understanding of the different subcategories of microaffirmations within the context of multiple marginalized identities, specifically being a person of color and being LGBTQIA+. The findings illustrate QTPOC perceptions of microaffirmations and their significant impact on their mental well-being. Efforts should be made to further understand the lasting impact of microaffirmations for individuals with multiple marginalized identities and how microaffirmations can encourage QTPOC and others to make macro-level changes. Counselors and researchers have a vital role in identifying and fostering microaffirmations for QTPOC across various aspects of their work.

 

Conflict of Interest and Funding Disclosure
The authors reported no conflict of interest
or funding contributions for the development
of this manuscript.

 

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Zori A. Paul, PhD, NCC, LPC (MO), is a clinical assistant professor at Marquette University. Kyesha M. Isadore, PhD, NCC, CRC, is an assistant professor at the University of Wisconsin–Madison. Nishi Ravi, MCouns, is a doctoral student at Marquette University. Kayla D. Lewis, MS, is a doctoral student at Marquette University. Dewi Qisti, MS, is a doctoral student at the University of Wisconsin–Madison. Alex Hietpas, MS, is a doctoral student at Marquette University. Bergen Hermanson, BA, is a master’s student at Marquette University. Yuji Su, BA, is a master’s student at Marquette University. Correspondence may be addressed to Zori A. Paul, Department of Counselor Education and Counseling Psychology, Schroeder Complex, 113M, Marquette University, P.O. Box 1881, Milwaukee, WI 53201-1881, zori.paul@marquette.edu.

 

Appendix

Interview Protocol

The interview will focus on details of participants’ experiences with microaffirmations. Participants will be asked how to describe everyday experiences and small actions that affirm their identities or impact their experiences; how different types of microaffirmations (microrecognitions, microvalidations, microtransformations, and microprotections) show up in their lives; and the impact of microaffirmations on their overall mental health and well-being. The goal of this interview is to elicit rich descriptions of participants’ experiences. The following questions and prompts will be used as a guide for the interview:

  1. Background Questions

a. Could you briefly explain how you refer to yourself in terms of your sexual and/or gender identity and what those labels, if you use any labels, mean to you?
b. Could you briefly explain how you refer to yourself in terms of your racial and/or ethnic identity and what those labels, if you use any labels, mean to you?
c. Can you describe a time when you felt like someone affirmed your sexual and/or gender identity?
i. If not already answered: What was your relationship to this person?

2. Microaffirmations
a. (Microrecognitions) Could you describe everyday experiences, such as actions, words, or environmental cues (like artwork, signage, symbols) that made you feel like your [insert identity] was given positive visibility and appreciation?
i. If you haven’t experienced that, what do you think positive visibility and appreciation for your identity would look like?
ii. In what ways do you think more positive visibility and appreciation for your identity would impact you directly?

b. (Microvalidations) Could you describe everyday experiences that made you feel that your thoughts, feelings, sensations, and/or behaviors associated with your lived experience as [identity] are accepted, legitimized, or given value?
i. If you haven’t experienced that, what do you think positive acknowledgment and understanding of your identity and lived experience would look like?
ii. In what ways do you think more positive acknowledgment and understanding would impact you directly?

c. (Microtransformations) Could you describe everyday experiences that made you feel that your identity as a member of [insert identity group] has been enabled, enhanced, or increased in society?
i. What do you think potential policies/initiatives that would enable, enhance, or increase your life look like?
ii. How would your life be impacted directly?

d. (Microprotections) Could you describe everyday experiences that make you feel shielded or protected from harmful or derogatory behaviors, practices, and policies tied to your identity as [insert identity]?
i. If you haven’t experienced that, what do you think potential protections or shields would look like?
ii. How would your life be impacted if you had more protection and shields?

3. Other
a. So far, we’ve been talking about positive everyday experiences that affirm your [identity]. The term we use for these everyday experiences and small actions is called microaffirmations. Can you tell us a little about the relationship of these microaffirmations with your overall mental health and well-being and how microaffirmations may impact it?
i. What do you think is the role of microaffirmations in terms of how you navigate spaces that have historically been exclusive to queer and trans people of color?
b. Is there anything we missed regarding any actions, words, or environmental cues you’ve experienced as [identity] throughout the course of your everyday life that affirms your identity and acknowledges your realized identity, and promotes social justice?

“You Good, Bruh?”: An Exploration of Socially Constructed Barriers to Counseling for Millennial Black Men

Demetrius Cofield

In recent years, there has been a significant increase in the prevalence of mental illness among millennials. However, there is still a significantly lower rate of millennial Black men engaging in mental health counseling compared to other marginalized groups. The lack of engagement of Black men in mental health counseling has become an increasingly popular topic in scholarly literature, yet the research is still limited. This critical phenomenological study explored the influence of social constructs on millennial Black men’s decisions about seeking counseling using a multidimensional theoretical framework combining critical race theory, Black critical theory, and Black masculinity. Sixteen participants who identified as millennial Black men who reported an interest in seeking counseling were interviewed. Results indicated three themes: Black masculine fragility, racial distrust, and invisibility. Implications and future research recommendations are provided for counselors and counselor educators to improve advocacy efforts to engage and retain more millennial Black men in counseling.

Keywords: Black men, millennial, mental health counseling, Black masculinity, phenomenological

On October 4, 2016, Kid Cudi, a Black male rapper, tweeted he was being hospitalized for depression and suicidal thoughts, which led to an influx of social media dialogue about the mental health of Black men and the Twitter hashtag #YouGoodMan (Francis, 2018, 2021). The hashtag provided space for Black men to tell their stories and struggles with mental health and provide each other with support. One user stated, “Kid Cudi’s situation resonates with me because I’ve admitted myself into rehab before because of depression and suicidal ideation” (Francis, 2021, p. 450). Other users discussed their experiences with counseling and medication; another user stated, “I’ve been getting help for over a year for shit that I couldn’t tackle alone. Best decision I ever made” (Francis, 2021, p. 450). The incident received media attention because Black men rarely openly discuss their struggles with mental health. The hashtag influenced the title of this article, which I revised to a more common colloquialism among Black men. For this article, Black will be used to address Black Americans or those of African descent who were born and/or raised in the United States.

Cudi, who was 32 at the time of his tweet, is considered a millennial, a generation that has endured a recent rise in mental illness (Hoffower & Akhtar, 2020). Millennial is a socially constructed label for people born from 1981–1996 (Dimock, 2019). The prevalence of mental illness in this generation has led to an increase in awareness and mental health advocacy among them, which in turn has increased counseling engagement (Hoffower & Akhtar, 2020). However, Black millennials utilize mental health services at lower rates compared to other races, and this is especially true for millennial Black men (MBM; Kim, 2018; White-Cummings, 2017). Although the stigma continues to be addressed more with this generation, Black men are still reluctant to express their mental health struggles and seek counseling; yet the literature concerning MBM and mental health remains scarce. In a generation that is working to normalize mental health treatment, this raises concerns about the barriers MBM face when considering or seeking counseling (Kim, 2018; White-Cummings, 2017). Although many social structures have been identified as barriers to treatment seeking such as stigma, race, and masculine norms, scholars have called for specific attention to masculinity and racism (Cofield, 2023, 2024). The purpose of this critical phenomenological study is to explore the influence of social constructs on MBM’s decisions about seeking counseling.

Black Men and Counseling

Black people continue to suffer because of the anti-Black systems driving this country (American Counseling Association [ACA], 2021). Anti-Black, often used synonymously with anti-Black racism, refers to a broader antagonistic relationship between Blackness and humanity that questions the humanity of Black people and influences racial violence against them (Dumas & ross, 2016). The paradox of anti-Blackness is it can be a barrier to counseling while also being a contributing factor to mental illness in the Black community. Sellers et al. (2009) and Hoggard et al. (2019) found that racial discrimination significantly impacted the mental and physical health of Black men with no regard for factors such as age, education, and income.

Compared to White men, Black women, and men of other races, Black men utilize counseling at significantly lower rates (DeAngelis, 2021; Shannon, 2023). Black men also have a significantly higher prevalence of mental illnesses such as depression and anxiety when compared to others (Cofield, 2023). Only 26.4% of Black men with depression and anxiety seek counseling compared to 45.4% of White men (DeAngelis, 2021). Additionally, suicidal death rates among Black men are four times higher than Black women, and they are increasing at significant rates (Centers for Disease Control and Prevention [CDC], 2021; National Institute of Mental Health, 2023; Tate, 2023). In 2019, more than half of reported suicides in the United States were Black men with the majority being millennials between 25–34 years old (CDC, 2021). These numbers do not consider the many non-fatal suicide attempts not reported and show a need for more attention to these concerns, as scholars have acknowledged for over 30 years (Cadaret & Speight, 2018; Coleman-Kirumba et al., 2022; Francis, 2018, 2021; Hoggard et al., 2019; Shannon, 2023; Toler Woodward et al., 2011; Ward & Besson, 2013).

The current political climate and significant rise in publicized killings of Black men would lead one to believe Black men are in greater need of counseling; however, there is no current indication of increased utilization (Cofield, 2023). Toler Woodward et al. (2011) investigated the utilization of mental health services among Black men through a quantitative analysis of trends in the use of professional and informal supports. The authors used four categories to describe mental health help-seeking behaviors among the sampled participants: professional services only (14%), informal supports only (24%), both professional and informal supports (33%), and no help (29%). However, the authors failed to provide a clear understanding of how they were defining informal supports, with the assumption being this would entail seeking support among family, peers, and non-professional resources. Additionally, the authors noted no determination of whether those who used both forms of support did so concurrently or on separate occasions and no clarification on whether those who used only one support, or none, were having their mental health needs met. Findings suggest the importance of both professional and informal support for Black men with psychiatric disorders and confirm the lack of professional support utilization. The authors also described the need for more exploration of how racism and masculinity impact help seeking both separately and together (Toler Woodward et al., 2011).

Cadaret and Speight (2018) found that stigma was a social barrier to counseling for Black men. The authors labeled the study a gateway into understanding help-seeking attitudes while also calling for future studies to specifically address racism and masculinity as barriers to counseling. Their findings were later supported by Shannon (2023) in a study exploring the impact of stigma on Black men seeking counseling, with results also supporting previous findings from Coleman-Kirumba et al. (2022). Coleman-Kirumba et al. also found masculinity, specifically Black masculinity, influenced stigma and the socialized thinking that seeking help makes Black men weak.

The limited scholarship on the lack of counseling engagement by Black men provides evidence of a gap in current literature. This study was conducted to fill that gap and to advocate for the silent struggles of Black men while allowing their stories to help improve treatment outcomes, available resources, and treatment engagement. Though many factors have been identified, race and masculinity are two that have remained consistent (Cadaret & Speight, 2018; Cofield, 2024; Coleman-Kirumba et al., 2022; Shannon, 2023; Toler Woodward et al., 2011). A common implication in the previously discussed studies is the impact of race and masculinity and the need to further explore how these social constructs act as barriers to counseling. This study aimed to achieve that by focusing specifically on racism and masculinity as potential barriers and learning more about how these and other social constructs continue to impact and influence help-seeking behaviors among MBM. Hence this study’s framework integrated Black masculinity, critical race theory (CRT), and Black critical theory (BlackCrit), which each offer key insights into the relationship between race, masculinity, and mental health.

Theoretical Framework

Black Masculinity
     Black masculinity critiques traditional masculinity rooted in Whiteness with traits like aggression, emotional suppression, homophobia, and family patriarchy (Ferber, 2007; hooks, 2004). Images of Black men are influenced by comparisons to White men, forcing unrealistic expectations on them and leading to harmful stereotypes (Smiley & Fakunle, 2016). Society’s masculine norms dictate how Black men handle emotions (Cofield, 2023). These norms often cause Black men to internalize self-hate and conform to an image created to demonize them (Akbar, 2016), which can lead to undiagnosed mental health issues. A key concept of Black masculinity guiding this study is the expectation for Black men to be tough and hide their vulnerability, which can impact their decisions to seek counseling.

Critical Race Theory
     CRT highlights the permanence of racism in societal structures and its intersection with other identities, such as gender, sexual orientation, and class, all of which can impact mental health and the likelihood of seeking counseling (Bell, 1995; Crenshaw, 2015). This study is also guided by the tenet of counter-storytelling, which empowers minoritized races to share their lived experiences of racism. However, CRT has been critiqued for underrepresenting the Black experience, leading to the development of BlackCrit (Dumas & ross, 2016).

BlackCrit
     BlackCrit extends CRT by centering the Black experience and addressing anti-Blackness (Dumas & ross, 2016). It also addresses the tension between Blackness and neo-liberal multiculturalism, which denies that racism still exists. By focusing on how Black men internalize trauma, BlackCrit connects to the emotional and psychological impacts addressed in both Black masculinity and CRT (Cofield, 2023). Together, they highlight how societal norms around race and masculinity shape Black men’s mental health and inform their decisions to seek counseling.

Methodology

The following research questions guided the methods of this study: 1) What are the socially constructed barriers to counseling for millennial Black men? and 2) How do anti-Black racism and Black masculinity influence millennial Black men’s decisions to seek counseling? I used a qualitative approach to explore how social constructs like race and masculinity influence MBM’s decisions to seek counseling.

Engaging critical theories with phenomenology, I used a critical phenomenological approach (Guenther, 2020). Critical phenomenology is an extension of phenomenology that reflects the “quasi-transcendental social structures that make our experience of the world possible and meaningful” and seeks to “generate new and liberatory possibilities for meaningful experience and existence” (Guenther, 2020, p. 15). At its foundation, traditional phenomenology fails to consider the historical and social structures that shape the lived experiences of the participants in both empirical and quasi-transcendental ways (Guenther, 2020; Moustakas, 1994). Transcendental structures are ideas or constructs that remain constant and consistent and are meant to help understand the true nature of how the world is experienced, uninfluenced by human assumptions, prejudices, or scientific theories (Davis, 2020). Social constructs such as racism and masculinity are quasi-transcendental structures because they are not constantly operating in consistent ways across all contexts and may be experienced differently among participants. Critical phenomenology is both philosophical and political. It does not seek just to identify a problem, but “it is also a creative, generative practice of experimenting with ways of addressing what is wrong without assuming that it can simply be made ‘right,’ but still aspiring to make it less wrong, less harmful, less oppressive” (Guenther, 2021, p. 8). I used this approach to develop a detailed understanding of the participants’ experiences and how they interpret them while critically questioning societal structures that create and support these experiences (Guenther, 2020).

Positionality
     As an MBM who has grappled with depression most of my life, the signs were evident, yet my limited understanding of mental health led to a silent struggle that I endured for years. The recognition of my own depression was a pivotal moment, but the fear of appearing vulnerable and weak initially discouraged me from seeking counseling. I eventually realized the difficulties of coping on my own and began counseling. This journey of healing proved to be a decision I never regretted. Also, as a Black man and counselor, I have witnessed the troubling lack of advocacy focused on engaging more Black men in counseling. This issue is personal to me, as I feel a calling to support and uplift other Black men struggling with mental illness through my unwavering commitment to research and advocacy.

Participants
     Eligible participants needed to self-identify as MBM who have considered seeking counseling, including those who had never sought treatment. Participants needed to be 25–40 years old, following the age range of millennials at the time of the study (Dimock, 2019). Eligibility was determined through a pre-screening of demographic questions and questions regarding both interest in and experience with counseling, if applicable. These queries did not ask how many sessions the participants attended, if any. Participants also needed to identify as cisgender. Sexual orientation was not a factor in determining participant eligibility. The final sample consisted of 16 MBM with an age range of 29–34 years old located in multiple states in the United States, but most were in the Southeast (n = 9). All participants were college educated with some diversity in marital status (n = 11 single; n = 5 married) and sexual orientation (n = 12 heterosexual; n = 3 bisexual; n = 1 homosexual; n = 1 no label). Pre-screening responses indicated those who had been to counseling (n = 12) and those who had not (n = 4). Those who had engaged in counseling reported their experiences were positive (n = 8), negative (n = 2), or neutral (n = 2). Participant demographics are detailed in Table 1.

Table 1

Participant Demographics

Pseudonym Age State Sexual Orientation Marital Status Been to Counseling? Experience
Jai 33 CA No Label Single Yes Positive
Dro 31 FL Heterosexual Married Yes (couples only) Negative
Jamal 31 SC Heterosexual Single Yes Positive
Andre 34 MD Heterosexual Married Yes Positive
TJ 31 SC Heterosexual Married No N/A
Malik 29 NC Heterosexual Single Yes Positive
Micah 30 CO Heterosexual Single Yes Positive
Ali 33 PA Heterosexual Single Yes Negative
Hakeem 31 SC Homosexual Single Yes Positive
Jarrell 32 TX Heterosexual Single Yes Neutral
Tariq 30 MD Heterosexual Single No N/A
Dejerrio 32 NC Heterosexual Single No N/A
Jamarcus 33 NC Bisexual Single No N/A
Travis 32 TN Bisexual Married Yes Positive
Craig 33 MD Bisexual Single Yes Positive
Khalil 32 NC Heterosexual Married Yes Neutral

 

Recruitment and Data Collection
     After obtaining IRB approval, I used purposeful sampling for recruitment via a flyer posted by myself, colleagues, peers, and their followers who shared it on social media and in social media groups (Hays & Singh, 2012). I also used snowball sampling by reaching out to recommended participants identified by eligible participants, colleagues, or peers (Hays & Singh, 2012). Flyers included a link to informed consent and pre-screening questions. Unexpectedly, 40 eligible participants completed the screening. After ensuring eligibility, I again used purposeful sampling to select a diverse sample of 20, ensuring the inclusion of MBM who had gone to counseling and those who had not, as well as those who reported positive, neutral, and negative experiences. Email correspondence was used to schedule Zoom interviews and provide participants with potential interview questions to help prepare well-thought-out responses once they scheduled interview times. Follow-up emails were also sent out after a week if they had not responded. I did not receive any response from four of those chosen for the sample, which led to a final sample of 16 participants. I conducted semi-structured interviews, hoping that my being a Black man would provide a comfortable and safe space for participants. Interviews lasted between 45–75 minutes. Participants were asked questions regarding their beliefs toward mental health and counseling, issues they believe prevent Black men from seeking counseling, their experiences with counseling (if applicable), and how race and masculinity have impacted their beliefs about mental health and counseling. The questions were guided by the multidimensional framework and critical phenomenology. Influenced by critical phenomenology, I developed questions to illicit responses oriented “towards creative, reparative action, beyond the clarification and diagnosis of problems” (Guenther, 2021, p. 9). For this study, that meant questions that allowed participants to provide their own interpretation of race, masculinity, and what it means to be a Black man, as well as how power and history have shaped their experiences with mental health and decisions to seek counseling (Guenther, 2021). Some examples of interview questions were:

  1. What does it mean to you to live life as a Black man?
  2. How would you define “masculinity”?
  3. In what ways does your answer change, if any, when I say “Black masculinity”?
  4. How does society view Black masculinity?
  5. What would you describe as Black masculinity norms/stereotypes?
  6. Have you ever been to counseling?
  7. What factors influenced your decision to go or not go to counseling?
  8. How would you describe your experience with counseling, if you have been?
  9. What are your perceptions of the difference between counseling-seeking behaviors of Black and White men?
  10. How have Black masculine norms influenced, if they have, your decision to seek counseling?
  11. What advice would you give to Black men facing mental health challenges?
    1. Would you recommend counseling to another Black man? Why or why not?
    2. What do you believe can be done to encourage more Black men to go to counseling?

Trustworthiness
     I used multiple strategies to ensure trustworthiness and limit the effects of researcher bias. These strategies included bracketing, reflexive journals, member checking, thick descriptions, and external auditors to ensure credibility, dependability, confirmability, and transferability (Hays & Singh, 2012). Taking a critical phenomenological approach to bracketing meant suspending hegemonic norms and acknowledging my own biases and experiences with the topic to be open to different views, interpretations, and experiences while remaining mindful of how White supremacy and other forms of systemic oppression shape(d) the lived experiences of myself and the participants (Guenther, 2021). I used reflexive writing by keeping a journal to reflect on any biases that came up throughout data collection and analysis. I also had weekly meetings to reflect and debrief with a counselor educator with experience and knowledge in social justice–related research in counseling. This study was also reviewed by a committee of three counselor educators and a qualitative researcher in education as external auditors. I completed member checking by having participants review their interview transcripts for accuracy. Additionally, the significance of counter-storytelling as part of the theoretical framework and aligning with the critical phenomenological approach of this study meant centralizing the voices of the participants with the inclusion of multiple direct quotes to support the results of the study.

Data Analysis
     After interviews were completed and transcribed, transcripts were edited for accuracy and anonymity. Participants were assigned pseudonyms, though some chose their own during the interview process. Once transcripts were reviewed and edited, member checking was attempted, and participants were emailed their transcript to ensure accuracy. Some responded confirming approval while others did not. After allowing participants a week to respond, I began analyzing the transcripts. The week also gave me time to step away from the research and return with a refreshed mindset to avoid burnout and bias.

I analyzed the data using a similar modification of Moustakas’s (1994) phenomenological analysis by Eddles-Hirsch (2015) through the lens of CRT, BlackCrit, and Black masculinity. Initial analysis began while editing transcripts and journaling. Next, I analyzed each transcript while listening to the interviews, becoming more familiar with each participant’s story (Eddles-Hirsch, 2015). I completed two additional rounds of analyzing transcripts, without audio, highlighting significant statements relevant to the research questions and theoretical framework. While reviewing transcripts, I also referred to journal entries written after each interview. During the third round of analysis, the highlighted statements were recorded in a separate document. Moustakas (1994) referred to this process as horizontalization and the statements as horizons. After reviewing the list of horizons to ensure there were no repetitive, overlapping, or unrelated statements, I began grouping them based on categories developed from my review of the transcripts. This grouping process was specific to each transcript and resulted in different group labels for each participant. I then compared groups across transcripts, forming clusters of statements and modifying labels as I noticed trends and connections. This process led to what I felt was data saturation and a representation of the participants’ responses, which resulted in three themes and additional subthemes.

Findings

An analysis of interview transcripts resulted in the following three themes among all participants (N = 16): Black masculine fragility, racial distrust, and invisibility. All themes applied to both research questions, though some subthemes did not. Each theme and subtheme is described and supported with participant quotes.

Black Masculine Fragility
     Black masculine fragility is Black men’s discomfort, defensiveness, and avoidance of anything contradictory to perceptions of Black masculinity. It refers to Black men and their need to avoid feelings and emotions that threaten their masculinity and the sociocultural pressure placed on them to maintain the image. All participants reported socialized perceptions of Black masculinity when referring to reasons for not seeking treatment. The expectation that Black men are supposed to be hypermasculine, emotionless, hypersexual, heterosexual, cisgender, dangerous, providers, and protectors was fluently expressed in all participant interviews. Each participant’s explanation of life as a Black man included potential reasons MBM do not seek counseling. The following subthemes and participant quotes supported this theme.

Socialization
     Socialization (N = 16) refers to social influences on the behaviors, perceptions, values, and attitudes of Black men and their masculinity. Acknowledging masculinity as a social construct, Jai stated that it is “based upon how [society] thinks boys and men should move in, exist in, and speak within the world.” Dejerrio described the nuances of Black masculinity, stating, “You gotta have the threat of danger around you for Black masculinity. Even if you not that dangerous.” Also, in maintaining their masculinity, Black men must be hard workers that provide for and protect those they care about. Dro stated, “My idea of a [Black] man is somebody who’s able to protect and provide. Unfortunately . . . you’re not allowed to have feelings. ‘How dare you!’” Black men are conditioned to believe that no matter what they go through, the answer is always to grind harder.

Ali noted femininity, a threat to masculinity, must be avoided at all costs:

You show anything that’s not hyper strong, hyper tough, hyper emotionless, then you’re not a man. That’s feminine. . . . When Black men tend to exude things society has deemed to be feminine or Black women deem to be feminine, you really get talked about to the point where you get shamed for doing it. He can’t ask for help. His struggles must be kept secret . . . [if] you complimented me, you gay!

     TJ felt that masculinity had no place in counseling, stating, “I got to cut it off to go to therapy, but as soon as I leave therapy, I gotta cut it back on.” Comments like TJ’s shed light on MBM’s internal struggles between maintaining their masculinity and seeking help. The struggles often lead to minimizing the need for counseling, as noted by Jarrell, who after attending two sessions felt he should shoulder the burden of his own mental health because he felt there were people who needed it more than him. He provides an example of Black men glorifying the act of sacrificing their emotional well-being for others’ needs. Being socialized to think this way makes counseling seem like a foreign concept that some are not equipped to handle. Participants credited their childhoods and families for this way of thinking.

Media Influence
     Media influence (n = 15) refers to the impact of media on images of how Black men should be, the lack of portrayals of Black men in counseling, and the portrayal of them not taking it seriously when they do go. Dejerrio and Jai provided examples of TV shows from their childhood that normalized White men in counseling such as Frazier. Dejerrio stated, “The only therapy with a Black man I can think of in a movie was Bad Boys when he went to a therapist and he ends up [having sex with] her.” Jai discussed comical portrayals from TV shows like Fresh Prince of Bel Air, stating, “They went to therapy, well couples therapy . . . they started hitting each other with the balls and bats and they got into it with other people. People actually think, ‘Oh this is what therapy is, it causes more drama.’” Media portrayals can also lead to distrusting counselors. Jamarcus stated, “I would be cool to talk to you if I don’t feel like you’d be writing a blog about it. . . . I see y’all on movies and y’all be crazy. Or exploiting the person.” The media can lead to inaccurate perceptions that counselors cannot be trusted and that counseling has no benefit to Black men.

Racial Distrust
     Racial distrust refers to MBM’s refusal to see White counselors. This theme is characterized by the racial differences and lack of cultural connections in counseling and was present in all participant interviews. Jai stated, “I will not, I cannot, and I do not go to any White therapists.” Participants expressed concerns about White counselors not being able to understand their culture and experiences. Jamal stated, “The first person that I worked with was White, so I was like nah, I might just wipe off all White therapists and say they ain’t for me.” Similarly, Ali discussed his experience with a White counselor:

The environment was just not an environment that I felt was for culturally relevant healing. It was a space that I wasn’t used to. I was in this man’s home. I’m walking in and I’m like “bruh, I don’t even think you know how people like me grew up. . . . I’m trusting what you say comes from a place of understanding and not from ‘well my book told me this and I’m going to reiterate that.’ I’m Black, I’m probably not covered well in your book anyway.” I came there open, but it was just reminders to stay in your place boy, “I’m big, you’re small. I’m right, you’re wrong. White is right, and Black is wack.”

Ali’s and Jamal’s experiences point out the perceived lack of cultural competence for counseling Black men and the minimal consideration, if any, of Black people in theoretical approaches found in textbooks. Their experiences also show the impact that just one negative experience can have on discouraging MBM from continuing counseling, which Ali still has yet to do.

Invisibility
     Invisibility refers to the lack of accessibility of Black counselors, lack of knowledge about counseling, and lack of positive testimonies. The following subthemes and participant quotes illustrate this theme.

Lack of Visible Black Counselors
     Lack of visible Black counselors (n = 9) refers to MBM not knowing about Black counselors in their communities. Those who spoke about this barrier discussed how discouraging it was not seeing local Black counselors. Hakeem spoke of the impact on the image of counseling: “When I think therapy or when I think psychologist or counselor or shrink, I think of a little old White man or White lady, and I think of a couch.” Those who thought Black counselors should be more visible felt there was not enough promotion. Jamal stated, “If I’m a person living in a town and the only therapists that I’ve heard of or saw ads for are White and I’m Black, that’s probably going to dissuade me from seeking therapy.” These statements support the need for more Black counselors in the mental health profession.

Many discussed the lack of access to counseling in Black communities. TJ discussed counseling being more accessible and acceptable for White men and the likelihood that seeking help would result in seeing a White counselor. Micah stated, “Most of the people of color that I have come to learn about are booked full of the few Black or people of color that already exists here.” Micah identified how location can make it harder to find Black counselors, particularly in areas with a smaller Black population. Hakeem also discussed accessibility to mental health medication when discussing his experience with seeking antidepressants from White doctors, stating, “I have to essentially prove myself and audition for this shit . . . and it is simply because of how Black men are treated in health care.” He acknowledged the racism impacting accessibility to other forms of mental health treatment.

Lack of Positive Testimonies
     The subtheme lack of positive testimonies (n = 14) refers to the need for more MBM to share positive counseling experiences. Participants believed some MBM avoid counseling because they do not know of any Black men who have benefited from it. This subtheme is characterized by the impact of positive testimonies and how some MBM do not feel comfortable sharing their experiences. Hearing about positive experiences of Black men in counseling was influential for some participants who struggled with deciding to seek counseling. Regarding positive testimonies from his friends, Jamal stated, “Had they not had those discussions with me, I don’t know that I would have decided to go.” While Jamarcus, who has never had counseling, acknowledged the benefit of positive testimonies, the negative experiences were more significant to him. He discussed the people he knew who had gone to counseling, stating, “The majority of them, of course it helps, but I feel like there’s still a large portion as well that would say ‘I didn’t get what I really wanted from therapy.’” Still, Jamarcus’s experiences do not negate the need for more positive testimonies to outweigh the negative ones.

There are other factors that might dissuade MBM from sharing positive stories about counseling. Ali credited stigma as a deterrent to sharing, stating, “If they do, they don’t talk about it because of the stigma that exists. . . . ‘I would rather do this in quiet than you to make me feel bad or me to have to defend it.’” These statements identify another internal struggle for MBM when it comes to the stigma associated with counseling.

Lack of Clear Knowledge and Understanding
     Lack of clear knowledge and understanding (n = 15) refers to misconceptions MBM have about counseling. Many had the wrong idea about counseling or lacked knowledge of how to seek it. Malik stated, “The reason why [they] don’t go is, 1) people gonna think you crazy, 2) they think it’s expensive, and 3) they don’t know how to find one or what they should look for.” This subtheme is characterized by counseling myths and the process of getting started.

The inaccurate belief that counseling is only for severe situations was common among those who had not gone. Tariq stated, “I think most of the things that I’ve dealt with mentally and emotionally had been akin to colds and stuff like that, things I wouldn’t go see a doctor for.” The misunderstanding of why to seek counseling is one influenced by masculinity when it comes down to MBM feeling they must admit to things being bad or more severe than “a cold.” Still, there are other misunderstandings about counseling that also act as barriers.

Almost every participant who had never been to counseling stated it was too expensive. They were unaware that most health insurance plans cover counseling. Dejerrio stated, “There should be more information readily available, and the current insurance system doesn’t help anything because it’s so confusing.” Beyond the lack of understanding of insurance policies, participants highlighted the confusion that comes with finding a counselor. Tariq stated, “Not really understanding the resources plays into it. . . . I think I’m still a little bit less clear about how to secure something like that. . . . it’s not as clear to me where to go for therapy.” Tariq, Dejerrio, and other participants who did not understand the process of getting started with counseling were given a thorough explanation with suggestions and resources to assist them.

Discussion

The following research questions guided this study: 1) What are the socially constructed barriers to counseling for millennial Black men? and 2) How do anti-Black racism and Black masculinity influence millennial Black men’s decisions to seek counseling? The three themes derived from participant responses provided answers to both research questions. Additionally, the themes and subthemes are all consistent with the tenets and principles of the theoretical frameworks. In response to the first research question, the three themes provide specific insight about the perceived barriers. Black masculine fragility details how the social construction of race and masculinity influences the behaviors, perceptions, values, and attitudes of MBM and discourages them from seeking help. Racial distrust is a result of socially constructed racial identities that lead to cross-racial trust issues for MBM when deciding if they will seek counseling. Lastly, knowledge is a social construct, and the counseling profession can also be shaped by social norms and cultural values, which makes the invisibility of Black counselors, MBM who engage in counseling, and information about counseling results of social construction.

In response to the second research question, all three themes provided insight. The results of this study suggest MBM are socialized based on their race and gender, which impacts their views on help seeking. Because of anti-Black racism, MBM find it hard to trust White counselors, which creates a barrier to treatment when the common belief is that counseling is for and provided by White people. Systems of anti-Black racism impact the visibility of Black counselors, and Black masculinity discourages MBM from sharing positive counseling testimonies. Only race was evident in the lack of clear knowledge and understanding subtheme. The themes provide evidence to conclude that anti-Black racism and Black masculinity are barriers to counseling for MBM, discouraging them from seeking treatment.

The theme Black masculine fragility aligned with CRT, BlackCrit, and Black masculinity, and participants’ definitions of Black masculinity accurately aligned with the literature (Ferber, 2007; hooks, 2004). Black masculinity establishes norms for dealing with emotions; specifically, how Black men should not express emotions, thus leading to not acknowledging their mental health concerns and seeking counseling. Participants who had never been to counseling discussed not wanting to show emotions and be perceived as feminine, gay, or weak. Though not all participants agreed with this idea, they acknowledged that it was common among MBM. Dumas and ross (2016) spoke of the significance of anti-Blackness questioning the humanity of Black people. Black masculine fragility illustrates the internalized disregard of their humanity—it is anti-Black for Black men to believe their emotions do not matter, and they are only as good as the work they do to provide and protect.

Racial distrust refers to the lack of trust and comfort MBM have with engaging in counseling from White counselors and their refusal to do so. Racism plays a significant role in this lack of trust because of the historical violence against Black people. Some participants mentioned racial trauma being both a reason MBM might seek counseling as well as a barrier. Historical racism and oppression have understandably had a significant impact on the mental health of Black men (Hoggard et al., 2019; Sellars et al., 2009). Finding a safe space to process the trauma of navigating a racist society and witnessing public racial violence may seem impossible to many MBM who feel they would have no choice but to see a White counselor. The counseling profession is dominated by White counselors, so this is a significant barrier to treatment for MBM (DeAngelis, 2021).

Some participants attempted counseling with a White counselor, but none of them reported positive results. They expressed wanting a counselor with similar lived experiences who would not need cultural references explained to them. This also highlights the perceived lack of cultural competence for working with Black men among White counselors. This aligns with the CRT critique of liberal ideology and its acceptance of color blindness and dismissal of racism, and how current systems continue to minimize White privilege and remain centered in Whiteness (Haskins & Singh, 2015). It reflects the concerns that outdated counseling practices derived from theories created by and for White men are not effective (Singh et al., 2020).

Participants felt that counseling is easily accessible for White people, and the perception of access to counseling as a barrier has been noted in previous studies (Newhill & Harris, 2007; Ward & Mengesha, 2013). It is also worth noting that this barrier impacts access to mental health medication, as evident by Hakeem’s experiences with feeling the need to audition for medication from White doctors.

Invisibility also aligns with aspects of all three theories. Many participants acknowledged both the importance and lack of Black counselor representation as a reason they chose not to go to counseling or were initially reluctant to go. This theme was also reported by Black men and Black clinicians in previous research (Hackett, 2014; Ward & Besson, 2013). Black people account for less than 5% of mental health professionals, which includes more than just professional counselors (DeAngelis, 2021). In a report from The Association of Black Psychologists, they found that 11% of professional counselors identify as Black (Eutsey, 2024). Studies show that Black people in general prefer Black counselors (Ertl et al., 2019). This makes it difficult for Black counselors to meet the needs of the Black community. Another key component is the need for positive testimonies of MBM in counseling. Participants who had struggled with their decision to seek counseling stated they were more open to it after hearing about the positive experiences of Black men they knew. This relates to the impact of positive testimonies found in other studies (Francis, 2018, 2021; Ward & Mengesha, 2013). Some participants reported having or hearing about negative experiences with counseling; however, most did not speak of negative testimonies and instead spoke of the lack of positive testimonies. For those who did recall hearing about negative experiences or having them, they placed more value on the negative testimonies even if they could admit to hearing more about the positives. Additionally, the discussion of stigma related to this theme supported findings from previous studies (Cadaret & Speight, 2018; Shannon, 2023).

Implications
     The misconceptions participants reported about counseling make this one of the most important aspects of this study. MBM need to understand what counseling is, why they should seek it, and how to get started. Advocacy efforts should be revised to include accurate education about counseling resources geared toward MBM. More education should also include knowledge about affordability. It should be common knowledge that counseling is part of most medical insurance plans. Many people assume it is not because they do not relate it to medical coverage; however, psychotherapy is typically included with medical insurance plans (U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, 2023). This should be addressed the same way that other more common medical procedures are detailed when explaining policies. Knowledge about financial assistance for the uninsured, such as sliding scale fees and pro bono services offered by some counselors, should also be made available.

Another way to increase knowledge and resources is more marketing geared toward MBM. Participants reported it is often difficult to find Black counselors, especially in less diverse areas. Counselor directories such as Psychology Today and Therapy for Black Men are easily accessible and MBM need to be made aware of them. Although current advocacy efforts heavily promote awareness, increasing outreach efforts highlighting Black counselors could help encourage more MBM to seek help. This could include ads and promotional media that provide resources for finding local Black counselors. Participants also felt that Black counselors could do more to increase their visibility. Participants expressed the desire to hear more positive counseling experiences from Black men. Mental health advocates and professionals can encourage Black men to share testimonies publicly beyond their personal social networks. Social media has been a great resource for advocacy and can be used to provide more spaces for MBM to share their experiences with a wider audience, as shown by Francis (2018, 2021).

Lack of representation is a factor preventing Black men from engaging in counseling that has been consistent across literature (Cofield, 2023). As participants made clear, MBM are not likely to want to see a White counselor. An increase in marketing is a start to reaching more MBM, but the overall issue is the lack of Black counselors. This can be addressed through meaningful efforts to increase diversity in counselor education programs to recruit more Black people rather than pictures of Black people on webpages and empty promises in mission statements. Programs should target recruitment efforts to Black communities and Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs) and create scholarship and grant opportunities that fund Black students as an incentive to appeal to more Black people and increase recruitment.

These findings also provided implications for clinical practice. Participants who had seen White counselors felt they were not culturally competent. Counselors are expected to be culturally competent and should be able to provide culturally appropriate care to all clients (ACA, 2014; Ratts et al., 2016). However, it seems counselor education programs are not being as effective at teaching cultural competency as they have been charged to do. Following CRT and BlackCrit critiques of multiculturalism (Bell, 1995; Dumas & ross, 2016), multicultural counseling education should be incorporated in more than just the multicultural counseling course(s) and it needs to be restructured to include critical approaches to working with Black men and other marginalized groups (Cofield, 2023). For example, one way of improving clinical practice with MBM is using CRT and BlackCrit in counseling to promote culturally appropriate care (Cofield, 2022; Singh et al., 2020).

Limitations and Future Research
     The results of this study should be considered within the context of its limitations. The use of social media and snowball sampling risked the possibility of recruiting many participants with similar views based on established social connections. The social connection also highlights that similar education might have impacted results, with all participants having some amount of college education. Results might be different with MBM who are not college educated. Also, the age range required for participation was 25–40 years old but the sample age range was 29–34 years old with the majority being 31–33 years old. Location could also be a limitation, with 11 participants residing on the East Coast and nine residing in Southern states. Additionally, results may have been different had there been more participants who had never been to counseling.

There is still a need for more research in this area. Future research could explore generational differences in perceptions of counseling among Black men. This could potentially identify ways to improve advocacy efforts for Black men of all ages. Scholars might also consider exploring the experiences of Black men who have had counseling to identify factors that contribute to retention. I hope this study will motivate more researchers to further explore barriers to counseling for Black men as solutions are needed to help improve our mental health as we continue to navigate an anti-Black society that oppresses, traumatizes, and dehumanizes our existence.

Conclusion

The purpose of this critical phenomenological study was to explore the influence of social constructs on MBM’s decisions about seeking counseling using a theoretical framework of Black masculinity, CRT, and BlackCrit. The findings of this study identified three significant themes supported by previous research. The results of this study provide more detail into previously established barriers to counseling for MBM with a more in-depth exploration of race and masculinity. I offer suggestions to improve advocacy, practice, and education in counseling Black men from the voices of MBM who have considered or actively engaged in counseling.

 

Conflict of Interest and Funding Disclosure
The authors reported no conflict of interest
or funding contributions for the development
of this manuscript.

 

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Demetrius Cofield, PhD, LCMHCS, LPCS, LCAS, CCS, is an assistant professor at The Ohio State University. Correspondence may be addressed to Demetrius Cofield, 446 PAES Bldg., 305 Annie & John Glenn Ave., Columbus, OH 43210-1124, cofield.18@osu.edu.

Shifting Paradigms: Exploring Multicultural Approaches to Psychedelic-Assisted Therapy in Counseling

Brittany L. Prioleau, Shama Panjwani

The integration of diverse and multicultural perspectives in psychedelic-assisted therapy represents an important element within this emerging field. As the therapeutic potential of psychedelics continues to capture the attention of mental health professionals, it is essential to underscore the critical significance of considering the diverse cultural backgrounds, belief systems, and systemic influences and barriers of individuals engaging in these therapies. This article explores the importance of embracing a multicultural and social justice lens within psychedelic-assisted therapy that examines the movement through a historical sociopolitical lens. It reviews the integration of social justice and advocacy into potential treatment, highlighting how psychedelic-assisted therapy has the potential to enhance effectiveness, accessibility, and ethical foundations within the counseling profession.

Keywords: psychedelic-assisted therapy, multicultural, social justice, advocacy, counseling

     Psychedelics are substances that alter states of consciousness (Nichols & Walter, 2021). This classification consists of substances derived from roots and plants, including cacti and fungi-like plants as well as synthetic substances that can affect perception. The association of psychedelics with the counterculture of the 60s and 70s created a stigma around usage and thwarted clinical research (Byock, 2018). However, in recent years, psychedelics have reemerged as a breakthrough therapeutic treatment modality for a variety of mental health disorders (Byock, 2018). The emergence of psychedelic-assisted therapy (PAT) and the results of clinical trials demonstrate significant improvements in treatment-resistant depression, increased psychological well-being, and overall long-lasting positive outcomes (Carhart-Harris et al., 2017; Davis et al., 2021; Mitchell et al., 2023; Ross et al., 2016). It is important to recognize the role that counselors and counselor educators will play in embracing diverse and multicultural aspects within the evolving and emerging field of PAT. Many communities of color face disproportionately high rates of mental health challenges because of a number of factors, including access to culturally competent treatment (Viña, 2024). PAT has the potential to address these disparities, but it can only do so effectively when treatment providers are cognizant of systemic barriers that may impact their clients. It is also important to recognize the influences of culture such as aspects of spirituality and the lived experiences from diverse and Indigenous perspectives within psychedelic therapeutic spaces. Psychedelic medicine use has a rich history in traditional cultures (Celidwen et al., 2023). However, the current psychedelic movement, including the research, predominantly represents Western perspectives, while leaders from Indigenous and diverse communities remain absent (Celidwen et al., 2023; George et al., 2020).

Within the current psychedelic science space, the voices and work of Indigenous communities, racial/ethnic minorities, and other historically marginalized populations often go unnoticed (George et al., 2020). Currently, much of psychedelic research excludes voices and perspectives of diverse populations, including those of women and ethnically diverse groups, in both research and practice. These groups must be acknowledged to ensure that they benefit from these novel approaches.

The diverse perspectives and cultural backgrounds of both counselors and their clients are important. In this article, we explore an array of multicultural considerations and address the importance of adopting a multicultural lens in the training and practice of counselors and counselor educators within the context of PAT. We aim to provide insights into and a comprehensive examination of the potential benefits, ethical considerations, and multicultural perspectives related to the potential integration of psychedelic training into counselor education and supervision. We also explore the urgent need for a culturally sensitive and inclusive approach within PAT, with a focus on areas such as cultural appropriation, legalization/criminalization, potential barriers to access, diversity in training, and research and future implications. Acknowledgment of multicultural perspectives in psychedelic therapy presents opportunities toward greater inclusivity and equity while expanding upon traditional healing approaches. Adopting this approach can enhance the efficacy and ethical foundation of these treatments within diverse communities.

Multicultural Considerations in Psychedelic-Assisted Therapy

Psychedelic substances have deep historical and cultural roots in many Indigenous and other traditional practices worldwide (K. Williams et al., 2022). Many Indigenous groups express concern over the cultural appropriation of psychedelics by Western medicine (Celidwen et al., 2023). Understanding the cultural meanings, rituals, and beliefs surrounding traditional plant medicine and psychedelic use can help counselors provide culturally competent care and avoid appropriating or misinterpreting these practices. Therefore, it is important that mental health professionals and educators approach PAT with sensitivity and awareness of diverse cultural perspectives. These considerations align with the American Counseling Association’s (ACA) Social Justice Competencies by encompassing and explaining the cultural contexts of psychedelic use, respecting traditional healing practices, and promoting inclusivity while ensuring equitable access to treatment (Ratts et al., 2016).

Disparities in Psychedelic Research
     Current research demonstrates that PAT is emerging as a promising therapeutic approach by offering potentially transformative treatments for a range of mental health–related issues. Early PAT researchers conducted controlled trials that demonstrated the safety and efficacy of psilocybin-assisted therapy in the context of end-of-life distress and cancer-related anxiety, depression, and addiction (Griffiths et al., 2006). The trial showed psilocybin-assisted therapy improved psychological well-being and reduced symptoms of anxiety and depression (Griffiths et al., 2016). In addition, controlled studies conducted in recent years have provided compelling evidence of the potential efficacy of psychedelics in treating mental health disorders, such as treatment-resistant depression, post-traumatic stress disorder, and substance use disorders (Bogenschutz et al., 2015; Mitchell et al., 2023).

The recent clinical trials pertaining to PAT offer great promise and beneficial impacts to mental health and well-being. However, these trials historically have limited the inclusion of Black, Indigenous, and people of color (BIPOC) and other marginalized populations (Michaels et al., 2018; K. Williams et al., 2022; M. T. Williams et al., 2020). For example, a study examining recent PAT clinical trials reported 85% of the participants identified as non-Hispanic White and 5% or less of the participants identified as people of color (Michaels et al., 2018). The lack of participation in the research may be due to factors such as historical mistrust (e.g., trauma linked to medical experimentation), lack of cultural sensitivity, accessibility, stigma and discrimination (e.g., legal ramifications), and non-inclusive recruitment strategies (George et al., 2020; Michaels et al., 2018; Thrul & Garcia-Romeu, 2021; K. Williams et al., 2022). Furthermore, in the most recent phase-2 MDMA trial, only 9.5% of the participants identified as being ethnically diverse (Mithoefer et al., 2011). Subsequently the sample from the phase-3 trial showed improvement toward diverse sampling (Mitchell et al., 2023). In a study examining ketamine-assisted therapy, researchers reported that all clinicians in the trial identified as White, while 89% of the participants also identified as White (Herzberg & Butler 2019). This data has important implications for current and future studies, as current results may not be as generalizable to the greater population (Michaels et al., 2018). Even with the increase and interest in psychedelic-related research, the recruitment and inclusion of diverse populations is lagging. Because researchers have primarily conducted empirical research in psychedelic medicine with a majority of White male participants, there is a lack of knowledge about the impact of PAT on minoritized populations (Viña, 2024). The absence of diverse ethnic and minority population representation may hinder the advancement of PAT. Inclusion of diverse groups may offer the opportunity to customize treatment approaches that may be better suited to people of color.

Cultural Impacts of Legalization
     The contexts of sociopolitical landscapes contribute to societal resistance and stigma around psychedelic therapy (Curtis et al., 2020; Hearn et al., 2022). The demonization of psychedelics in the media as well as government campaigns like the war on drugs not only contributed to the stigmatization of these substances and the perception that their use was inherently dangerous, but also fueled fears of a societal impact (Beckett et al., 2006; Sessa, 2016). This resistance can manifest both within counseling communities and the broader cultural context. Additionally, navigating the legal and regulatory challenges associated with multicultural psychedelic therapy adds layers of complexity to its integration into mainstream mental health practice (Marks & Cohen, 2021). The nature of the legalization and criminalization of psychedelic substances has led to hesitancy and resistance among both researchers and mental health professionals (Curtis et al., 2020; Hearn et al., 2022). Resistance to the integration of psychedelic therapy within counseling communities is often rooted in historical narratives, ethical concerns, and misconceptions associated with use (Smith et al., 2022). Many clinicians may fear the legal consequences, professional repercussions, and social stigma surrounding PAT. These impacts may discourage many educators and clinicians from exploring the therapeutic potential of these substances. This could perpetuate a lack of knowledge and formal training within counselor education, leaving educators and clinicians ill-equipped to integrate psychedelics into education and practice. Addressing this resistance requires comprehensive education initiatives within counseling programs. Educators and professional organizations must foster an open dialogue that provides accurate information about the therapeutic potential of psychedelics.

Some jurisdictions have begun to reconsider their approach through a growing recognition of the need for a more evidence-based and compassionate approach to drug policy. States like Oregon and cities like Denver, Colorado, have decriminalized the use of psychedelics (Siegel et al., 2023). The reevaluation of criminalization has opened doors for advancement in scientific research, leading to a resurgence of interest in therapeutic applications (Smith et al., 2022). Moreover, criminalization may limit access to PAT for individuals and communities that may benefit most from these treatments (Devenot et al., 2022). The illegal status of psychedelics presents challenges for patients to find qualified professionals who can provide these therapies legally and safely. Furthermore, the lack of access creates barriers for individuals to explore alternative and potentially transformative treatments for conditions that may be unresponsive to conventional approaches (Smith et al., 2022). Dismantling decades of stigma and overcoming criminalization will require continued advocacy from the counseling profession and mental health field.

Presently, ketamine stands as the only available legal substance that is often classified as psychedelic treatment in the United States. Ongoing research and evolving regulatory landscapes may pave the way for more legal options in the future (Dore et al., 2019). Although most psychedelics remain Schedule I controlled substances, making them illegal for recreational or therapeutic use, practitioners have legally used ketamine to treat treatment-resistant depression. Medical professionals have administered the drug under supervision in various clinical settings, offering hope to individuals who have not responded to conventional antidepressant therapies (Dore et al., 2019; Marks & Cohen, 2021). In the past, the legal classification of psychedelics as Schedule I substances, coupled with strict regulations, have made it challenging for researchers to obtain the necessary approvals and resources to conduct studies. However, researchers have put forth guidelines for testing psychedelics (Johnson et al., 2008). Although more federally funded clinical trials have emerged to highlight the benefits of PAT in recent years, underground use of the substances in community, therapeutic, and spiritual contexts has disproportionately impacted diverse and Indigenous communities (Williams et al., 2022). Furthermore, even with evidence of potential benefits of PAT, state and federal regulatory guidelines create barriers for the use of psychedelics in treatment (Byock, 2018).

Impacts of Criminalization
     The current sociopolitical climate and the overcriminalization of drug use continue to further stigmatize communities of color (Ching, 2019). Almost half of incarcerated individuals are in prison because of drug-related offenses (Buehler & Kluckow, 2024). Black men are imprisoned at a 5.7% higher rate than their White counterparts for similar convictions (Buehler & Kluckow, 2024). Racial disparities among drug arrests continue to persist. Because of these factors, people of color may feel less safe from a legal standpoint and may display more hesitancy to explore psychedelic-related therapeutics (George et al., 2020). People from historically marginalized communities may also be resistant to the use of psychedelics and PAT because of these implications (Ching, 2019). Additionally, psychedelic medicine has been underutilized to treat issues such as race-based trauma within communities of color. A study conducted by M. T. Williams et al. (2021) found a significant reduction in anxiety and depressive symptoms in participants who utilized psychedelics for the treatment of race-based trauma. However, if clinicians are not properly trained and do not understand the mechanics of racism, they can add to their clients’ trauma (Smith et al., 2022). In addition, researchers have argued that the current psychedelic-assisted model of therapy does not properly train counselors to treat BIPOC populations (Smith et al., 2022).

On a broader cultural level, because stigma surrounding psychedelic use persists, it often hinders individuals from diverse backgrounds from considering or openly discussing PAT (George et al., 2020). This stigma is rooted in societal misconceptions, fears, and historical prejudices; it may also include mistrust of the practitioners engaging in this mode of therapy (Smith et al., 2022). Addressing this stigma requires collaborative efforts between mental health professionals and community leaders. Public awareness campaigns that are culturally sensitive as well as education programs and community engagement initiatives can be utilized to challenge stereotypes and misinformation. These efforts should not only emphasize the potential benefits but also any associated risks of PAT. These efforts can assist in the destigmatization of PAT and validate its use as a legitimate therapeutic modality. Without legal access to psychedelic-assisted therapeutic modalities, historically marginalized populations remain vulnerable to criminalization. Advocacy efforts should focus on disseminating information geared toward acknowledging past drug policy harm and the potential for psychedelic healing. Addressing these barriers through advocacy and policy are essential to ensuring equitable access.

Ethical Considerations

The historical use of these substances for spiritual, cultural, and personal purposes challenges the notion of gatekeeping and medicalization. Therefore, ethical considerations extend beyond therapeutic settings to also encompass the possible recreational use of psychedelics (Pilecki et al., 2021). Gatekeepers who limit access to these substances raise questions about equity and personal autonomy. At the same time, there is a risk of overly medicalizing psychedelics, which may strip away the rich cultural and spiritual heritage that has been integral to their use.

Cultural Appropriation and the Commodification of Psychedelic Experiences
     Incorporating diverse and multicultural perspectives into the framework of PAT presents ethical challenges, particularly concerning the risk of cultural appropriation. Cultural appropriation refers to the adoption or use of elements from one culture by individuals or groups, often from a more dominant culture, without understanding, respect, or permission (Sue et al., 2022). Issues may arise in the context of PAT when people appropriate cultural practices or substances with deep historical or spiritual significance. One of the primary ethical considerations revolves around the respect for Indigenous knowledge and practices. Indigenous cultures have utilized psychedelic substances in their spiritual and healing rituals for centuries, and the current psychedelic movement faces challenges with the cultural and historical appropriation of these traditional healing methods (George et al., 2020). The appropriation of these practices without the involvement, permission, or benefit of Indigenous communities raises substantial questions about cultural exploitation and ethical responsibility. For example, the financial exploitation of plant medicines, without direct benefit to Indigenous peoples, could lead to unsustainable extraction of plant medicines, making them unavailable for communal use (Celidwen et al., 2023).

Indigenous and other cultures from around the world have long-standing traditions of working with psychedelic substances for spiritual and therapeutic purposes (Field, 2022). Many Indigenous cultures position the aspect of spirit as an integral component of healing and understanding (Field, 2022). The exploration and use of psychedelics in therapeutic contexts must confront the ethical challenges associated with cultural appropriation and the commodification of psychedelic experiences, which may exclude aspects of spiritual influences. Some may argue that in many Western-based PAT options, there is often an absence or underrepresentation of the integration of spiritual or transcendental aspects (K. Williams et al., 2022). Studies have shown that participants who undergo PAT, such as psilocybin-based therapy, highly correlate mystical or spiritual experiences with treatment (Reif et al., 2020). Although these treatments primarily focus on the clinical and therapeutic benefits of psychedelics, they may sometimes overlook the profound spiritual or mystical experiences that these substances can induce (Griffiths et al., 2006). The subjective nature of spirituality and the hesitance to incorporate it into scientific and clinical models that seek measurement of experiences as validation methods may be contributing factors (Sessa, 2016; K. Williams et al., 2022). However, for many individuals, the spiritual dimension of their psychedelic experiences is deeply meaningful and transformative (Griffiths et al., 2006). Recognizing the spiritual aspects and the potential for personal growth, healing, and enhanced well-being is important in order to offer a comprehensive and holistic approach to psychedelic therapy. This approach respects the diverse ways in which some individuals find meaning and make connections through these experiences.

Medicalization and Decolonization
     The historical exploitation of Indigenous practices, including the appropriation of sacred rituals, also encompasses commercialization of psychedelic substances (Devenot et al., 2022). Because of a number of promising studies, many companies and entities are positioned to profit from the therapeutic potential of psychedelic medicines by seeking to patent psychedelic substances (Marks & Cohen, 2021). Marks and Cohen (2021) argued that this may allow a small number of companies to act as gatekeepers, further restricting access to these emerging therapies. However, many marginalized groups, including Indigenous populations, do not receive these benefits (George et al., 2020; K. Williams et al., 2022). By not acknowledging the cultural roots of classic psychedelics, the colonization and appropriation of these practices may result in the erasure and exploitation of Indigenous knowledge and traditions (K. Williams et al., 2022). Mental health professionals engaging with psychedelic therapy must critically examine and address these concerns to ensure ethical and respectful practices.

As a profession, counselors must ensure that the voices of all cultures, including those who have stewarded plant medicines for millennia, are not lost and that advocacy becomes part of the PAT framework in order to create a more equitable future for all. Counselors should approach these practices with humility, respect, and a commitment to cultural preservation. PAT must acknowledge and address power dynamics, particularly in the context of historical and ongoing debate concerning the use of psychedelic substances. The Multicultural and Social Justice Counseling Competencies provide a guide for praxis to address these issues (Ratts et al., 2016). The current focus on medicalization and profit can overshadow the cultural, spiritual, and therapeutic significance of psychedelic experiences (Devenot et al., 2022; Schwarz-Plaschg, 2022). Furthermore, medicalization attempts to position Western approaches to Indigenous practices as the only legitimate way to utilize these substances may lead to restrictions and regulation of access (Schwarz-Plaschg, 2022). Mental health professionals need to recognize the impact of colonialism on Indigenous practices and the potential for appropriation of psychedelic plant medicines (Sessa, 2016). Educators and practitioners should actively work to dismantle power imbalances by engaging in ethical collaborations to promote the inclusion and empowerment of historically marginalized communities.

The Role of Counseling in Advocacy, Access, and Equity

PAT shows promise for addressing major facets of mental health disparities, particularly among vulnerable and underserved communities (Thrul & Garcia-Romeu, 2021). These communities often face higher rates of mental health–related issues, including trauma, depression, anxiety, and substance abuse, and they could potentially benefit significantly from these innovative therapies (Thrul & Garcia-Romeu, 2021). Counselors should prioritize access to these treatments in communities that are often disproportionately affected by mental health challenges (Herzberg & Butler, 2019; Michaels et al., 2018; Sevelius, 2017; Thrul & Garcia-Romeu, 2021; Williams & Labate, 2020). Psychedelic therapy should strive for equitable access, ensuring that individuals from all backgrounds can benefit from this modality. This requires addressing barriers such as costs and accessibility. Mental health professionals should work toward making PAT accessible and affordable (Herzberg & Butler, 2019; Michaels et al., 2018). This is particularly relevant for economically marginalized communities that have historically faced barriers to accessing quality mental health care. Many individuals from underserved and marginalized communities may face financial limitations that present as a barrier and could potentially limit access, preventing them from pursuing these investigative treatments (K. Williams et al., 2022). For PAT to be equitable, it is essential to consider financial accessibility. Being proactive and advocating for insurance coverage of PAT could significantly enhance access. This, in turn, can increase health and social disparities faced by these communities. As the field of PAT evolves, addressing these issues becomes increasingly important. Counselors must ensure future equitable access to PAT, as equity aligns with the broader goals of counseling and fundamentally links the idea that everyone, regardless of their cultural or socioeconomic background, should have access to innovative and effective mental health care.

Advocacy for policy changes is crucial for improving access to and equity in PAT. Counselors, counselor educators, and the broader mental health community can play a significant role in advocating for policy changes and greater access as these modalities become further legalized. Legal reforms can help decriminalize psychedelics and regulate access to PAT. The creation of standardized training and evidence-based guidelines is essential for those who wish to integrate PAT into their practice (Marks & Cohen, 2021).

Furthermore, counselors can embed PAT in a broader framework of multiculturalism and social justice advocacy by aligning it with the counselor social justice advocacy competencies. (Ratts et al., 2016). This involves addressing historical and ongoing injustices and actively working toward decolonizing practices and systems. Educators and clinicians engaging with PAT should recognize their role in advancing social justice and commit to principles of equity, inclusivity, and cultural empowerment. By approaching PAT with cultural humility and a commitment to ethical practice, professionals can contribute to a more inclusive, respectful, and responsible approach.

Moreover, multicultural perspectives bring depth to the therapeutic process itself. Different cultures have their unique healing practices, spiritual beliefs, and worldviews regarding altered states of consciousness. By embracing multicultural perspectives, counselors can expand their understanding of healing, embrace diverse approaches to well-being, and tailor PAT to meet the specific needs of individuals across cultural backgrounds (Sevelius, 2017). Promoting diversity and inclusivity within the field by training, providing educational opportunities to individuals from diverse backgrounds, and prioritizing the inclusion of diverse perspectives in research and practice can help promote equity. Development of inclusive policies that address historical injustices as well as ethical and cultural considerations aimed at reducing disparities in access related to psychedelics is crucial (M. T. Williams et al., 2020).

Multicultural Perspectives, Strategies, and Implications for Practice

Integrating multicultural perspectives into counseling practice is important for fostering inclusive and effective mental health care, particularly in emerging fields like PAT. Integrating diverse viewpoints and practices can help address systemic barriers, promote inclusivity, and enhance therapeutic outcomes for marginalized populations and other underrepresented groups. By addressing issues related to diversifying psychedelic research, diversifying the counseling workforce, and emphasizing culturally responsive approaches, counselors can create spaces that address diverse experiences. This section outlines actionable steps and strategies designed to incorporate multicultural frameworks into training, research, and practice.

Psychoeducation for Advocacy in Psychedelic-Assisted Therapy
     Counselors play a pivotal role in advocacy efforts for PAT by providing psychoeducation that empowers everyone—clients, marginalized communities, and the general public. Counselors can tailor psychoeducation to address the historical use of psychedelics and tackle issues related to marginalized populations, including common barriers to access. One strategic approach is to have counselors engage with clients and communities and educate them about the current changing legal landscape surrounding psychedelic substances, which includes regulatory changes and clinical trials that are shifting the conversation toward wider acceptance (Nichols & Walter, 2021). Providing accurate information about the safety, efficacy, and cultural history of psychedelics, specifically in non-Western and Indigenous contexts, can help reduce stigma and promote informed decision-making (George et al., 2020).

Additionally, professional counselors can offer a variety of workshops and community outreach programs that discuss the therapeutic potential of psychedelics and address concerns specific to underserved communities, such as fears of legal ramifications or historical trauma linked to medical experimentation (George et al., 2020; K. Williams et al., 2022). Legal reforms will help decriminalize psychedelics and regulate access to PAT. This approach should be culturally responsive to ensure that materials and discussions are tailored to the needs, values, and historical experiences of these populations.

Lastly, counselors can advocate for systemic change by collaborating with state and local organizations and policymakers to disseminate information about the potential benefits of PAT, specifically for treating trauma-related disorders in communities of color (Doblin et al., 2019; M. T. Williams et al., 2020). Counselors must also advocate for insurance coverage by lobbying through a call for action to reduce financial barriers for marginalized groups. Through a psychoeducational approach, counselors will advocate for more equitable access to PAT.

Diverse Representation in Psychedelic Research
     Discussing multicultural approaches in PAT helps researchers and counselors develop cultural competence, address biases, tailor treatment to individual needs, foster trust, empower clients, and promote social justice. By embracing a multicultural lens, researchers can create more effective and inclusive protocols for care that respect and acknowledge the diverse cultural backgrounds and identities of their clients (Scharff et al., 2010). Considering cultural factors in research of PAT is essential to ensure that therapy is relevant, respectful, safe, and inclusive (George et al., 2020). It promotes cultural sensitivity that acknowledges the diversity of human experiences, which aids counselors in providing effective and meaningful support to their clients so that PAT is accessible to individuals from diverse cultural backgrounds.

Diverse representation requires cultural sensitivity training to produce culturally competent research teams consisting of clinicians, researchers, and support staff. One strategy is to offer training that focuses on respecting and understanding diverse beliefs, values, cultural practices, and communication styles (Brennan & Belser, 2022). Diverse representation also entails having culturally different populations as participants in clinical trials. Engagement and collaboration must be addressed when tailoring recruitment strategies, dealing with barriers to access, enhancing language accessibility, and combating historical stigma through community education (Herzberg & Butler, 2019). Recruitment strategies using educational programs that specifically target underrepresented groups should involve culturally relevant communication channels to reduce stigma and increase awareness about psychedelic research within diverse communities.

Partnerships with community organizations and collaboration with community leaders will promote insight into specific cultural nuances and values and help build trust within diverse communities (Williams & Labate, 2020). Ethical considerations, including informed consent, privacy, and confidentiality, must be carefully addressed while also respecting and integrating the cultural contexts and values of participants (Smith et al., 2022). Along with increasing awareness, collaboration identifies barriers, such as financial constraints and transportation, that prevent marginalized individuals from participating. Adapting PAT protocols by incorporating traditional healing practices and spiritual elements that are meaningful to participants from diverse backgrounds creates additional cultural sensitivity around including culturally different populations (Celidwen et al., 2023). Diverse representation in psychedelic research is not only an ethical imperative, as outlined in the ACA Code of Ethics (ACA, 2014), but also is essential for producing results that impact diverse populations. It is vital to ensure that individuals from a broad spectrum of cultural and ethnic backgrounds understand the benefits and risks of PAT.

Diversifying Psychedelic Training and Workforce
     Specific guidelines for PAT vary and remain unclear (Schwarz-Plaschg, 2022). Moving forward, it is imperative that the counseling profession and governing bodies work together to create diverse training and treatment modalities. Furthermore, it is important that future PAT is reflective of people from diverse backgrounds to better fit the needs of people of color. Many current protocols and training programs are developed without input from diverse voices, which can result in a lack of cultural awareness regarding participants’ experiences (Buchanan, 2020). Incorporating a diverse array of clinicians from various backgrounds into psychedelic therapy training is a crucial step in ensuring the cultural relevance and effectiveness of these therapeutic approaches. Ensuring clinicians are culturally competent in training will help to build trust and rapport with clients from diverse backgrounds. Addressing mental health disparities within marginalized communities will also aid in culturally appropriate treatment approaches. Clinicians of color and clinicians from other diverse backgrounds bring valuable perspectives and cultural insights that enrich the field and promote a more inclusive, equitable, and effective approach to psychedelic therapy. Having a diverse workforce also aligns with and promotes the broader principles of social justice and health care equity. In the current landscape of psychedelic research and practice, people of color and women are often overlooked as leaders (Buchanan, 2020; George et al., 2020). Diversity in the workforce also reinforces the importance of making access to PAT equitable through representation. One strategy for diversifying the workforce is to encourage counseling programs to partner with other PAT training programs and offer scholarships and fellowships for training that create educational opportunities for marginalized students, thus promoting diversity and inclusivity. These scholarships and fellowships can specifically fund trainings for historically marginalized students.

As the counseling profession begins to explore ways to incorporate PAT into counselor training, embedding multicultural counseling competency as a foundational element of their PAT curriculum is recommended. One example could include introducing PAT in a counseling theories course as an emerging therapeutic framework to potentially treat treatment-resistant disorders. Exploration of PAT can also be included in a multicultural counseling course. This requires the inclusion of coursework that explores the history, cultural significance, and modern therapeutic applications of psychedelics across different cultures. Students should learn how various communities have actively integrated psychedelics into their healing practices for centuries, particularly in regions where plant medicines play a central role in traditional health and spiritual rituals.

Counseling programs may also include courses that provide specific training on addressing the cultural and historical trauma that may arise in clients from marginalized communities. For instance, the war on drugs disproportionately impacted Black and Indigenous communities in the United States, which may influence how they perceive psychedelics and PAT (Buchanan, 2020; Carhart-Harris et al., 2017). Counselors must receive training on acknowledging and addressing historical traumas when working with clients from these backgrounds, utilizing trauma-informed approaches that validate their experiences and build trust (Williams & Labate, 2020).

In addition, counselors must develop skills in culturally relevant communication to effectively engage with clients from various backgrounds. This includes being mindful of how different communities and clients may interpret the psychedelic experience. For example, some Indigenous groups may share experiences through a spiritual or shamanic lens, while others may relate their experience to their unique cultural background. Counselors should receive training from culturally competent PAT practitioners and established PAT programs to adapt their communication styles to respect cultural nuances and avoid the imposition of a singular Western therapeutic approach (George et al., 2020).

Community Collaboration
     Collaborating with diverse communities in the context of PAT is crucial for fostering culturally sensitive practices that honor traditional knowledge and ensure ethical integration into modern therapeutic frameworks. A potential strategy is for counselors to form community partnerships with individuals from the cultures whose practices are being integrated and ask these individuals to offer valuable insights and guidance on ethical considerations. An example from the literature describes panels from Indigenous communities creating a list outlining eight ethical considerations for engaging in psychedelic medicine. They include concepts pertaining to Indigenous knowledge, nature, and ways of being and knowing (Celidwen et al., 2023). These panels can help ensure that cultural perspectives are appropriately integrated into the therapy process. Moreover, collaboration with Indigenous and other cultural communities should involve mutually agreed-upon benefit-sharing arrangements. These arrangements can include providing financial support, resources, or other forms of reciprocity to recognize the value and utilization of the used cultural knowledge. Collaborating with Indigenous communities and leaders through engagement and partnerships can guide the creation of culturally sensitive and ethically appropriate practices and training while incorporating traditional healing and spiritual elements into research and training protocols. This collaboration can help create culturally competent research teams with diverse representation that can aid in recruiting underrepresented groups for clinical trials through education and trust building. This continual evaluation helps minimize cultural appropriation and preserves cultural sensitivity, which aligns with ethical principles that promote inclusivity, respect, and justice. These principles correspond with the multicultural and social justice advocacy competencies (Ratts et al., 2016).

Conclusion

Looking ahead to the future of counseling in psychedelic therapy, it is essential to acknowledge and honor the Indigenous and other cultural history and traditional use of these substances. Many cultures have maintained profound relationships with psychedelics as healing tools for generations by utilizing them in sacred rituals and healing practices (Fotiou, 2020). This cultural context offers valuable insights into the therapeutic potential of these substances and underscores the need for cultural humility and acknowledgment within the field of PAT. Recognizing Indigenous knowledge and practices not only informs our approach, but it also highlights the importance of collaborating with these communities and leaders (George et al., 2020). By doing so, counselors can foster a more inclusive and equitable future for PAT.

By acknowledging the diverse ways in which individuals experience healing, PAT has the potential to break down barriers and reduce mental health disparities. The future of PAT rests significantly in the hands of counselors and other mental health professionals. Additionally, culturally competent and inclusive psychedelic training can address disparities and promote equity in mental health services. As ambassadors of mental health and well-being, counselors can play a pivotal role in shaping the narrative around PAT. Educators bear the responsibility of imparting the knowledge, skills, and cultural competence required to navigate this evolving landscape. Incorporating psychedelic education into counseling programs equips future professionals with the skills to meet the diverse needs of their clients. Counselors can assist in these efforts by actively engaging in destigmatizing PAT, advocating for legal reforms, and promoting cultural humility that recognizes the significance of multicultural perspectives. Embracing multicultural perspectives in PAT is not merely an ethical imperative; it is a guide toward a more compassionate and holistic vision of mental health and well-being. Counselors, as educators, clinicians, and advocates, have the potential to shape a future that integrates the potential significance of PAT with cultural competence, offering profound respect of diverse experiences.

 

Conflict of Interest and Funding Disclosure
The authors reported no conflict of interest
or funding contributions for the development
of this manuscript.

 

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Brittany L. Prioleau, PhD, NCC, ACS, LPC, CIMHP, is an assistant professor at Mercer University. Shama Panjwani, PhD, NCC, LPC, is an assistant professor at Keiser University. Correspondence may be addressed to Brittany L. Prioleau, 3001 Mercer University Dr., Atlanta, GA 30341, prioleau_bl@mercer.edu.

The Impact of Intimate Partner Violence on Interpersonal and Intrapersonal Relationships: The Role of Childhood Attachment

Fei Shen, Ying Zhang, Xiafei Wang

Intimate partner violence (IPV) has consistently been shown to have deleterious effects on survivors’ interpersonal and intrapersonal relationships. Despite the negative outcomes of IPV, distress after IPV varies widely, and not all IPV survivors show a significant degree of distress. The present study examined the impact of IPV on adult attachment and self-esteem, as well as the moderating role of childhood attachment on the relationships between IPV, adult attachment, and self-esteem using path analysis. A total of 1,708 adult participants were included in this study. As hypothesized, we found that IPV survivors had significantly higher levels of anxious and avoidant adult attachment than participants without a history of IPV. Additionally, childhood attachment buffered the relationship between IPV and self-esteem. We did not find that childhood attachment moderated the relationship between IPV and adult attachment. These results provide insight on attachment-based interventions that can mitigate the negative effects of IPV on people’s perceptions of self.

Keywords: intimate partner violence, childhood attachment, adult attachment, self-esteem, moderation

     More than 10 million adults experience intimate partner violence (IPV) victimization annually in the United States (Black et al., 2011); therefore, it undoubtedly remains a prominent public health concern. IPV victimization has been consistently associated with deleterious effects on survivors’ physical and mental health. It is well established that IPV survivors demonstrated increased risks for chronic pain, injury, insomnia, disabilities, post-traumatic stress disorder, depression, and suicidality (Burke et al., 2005; Gilbert et al., 2023; Matheson et al., 2015; McLaughlin et al., 2012). Historically, empirical studies on trauma and violence have focused on psychopathology and symptoms (McLaughlin et al., 2012; Sayed et al., 2015). However, there is limited research on exploring the link between IPV victimization and intrapersonal and interpersonal relationship outcomes. Attachment theory (Bowlby, 1969) not only provides a rich theoretical framework for conceptualizing an individual’s psychopathology, but also establishes a foundation for understanding the intrapersonal and relational sequelae of IPV (Levendosky et al., 2012; Sutton, 2019). IPV survivors often experience a violation of trust and a sense of betrayal in the aftermath and develop ineffective coping mechanisms (e.g., distancing themselves emotionally), which could potentially impact their new intimate relationships (St. Vil et al., 2021).

Despite the negative outcomes of IPV victimization, the levels of distress following such incidents can vary (Scott & Babcock, 2010). Although evidence has implicated numerous risk factors related to IPV victimization (e.g., childhood trauma, gender inequity; Jewkes et al., 2017; Meeker et al., 2020), limited effort has been put forth to recognize protective factors that contribute to IPV survivors’ coping and healing processes. Childhood attachment has been proposed as a potential protective factor for IPV survivors’ coping with traumatic experiences and a moderator for buffering the negative psychological outcomes of IPV (Pang & Thomas, 2020), which provides a meaningful foundation for us to further investigate childhood attachment as a moderator buffering relational outcomes. To our knowledge, no study to date has investigated the potential moderating role of childhood attachment security on the association between IPV, interpersonal outcomes (e.g., adult attachment), and intrapersonal outcomes (e.g., self-esteem) in a non-clinical sample. Understanding the moderating role of childhood attachment can potentially provide further directions toward protecting survivors from negative outcomes and creating interventions that foster healthier interpersonal relationships. In tackling the gaps in the literature, we aim to: (a) investigate the impact of IPV on adult attachment and self-esteem; and (b) examine the moderating role of childhood attachment on the relationships between IPV, adult attachment, and self-esteem.

Theoretical Framework—Attachment Theory
     Attachment theory (Bowlby, 1969) offers an explanation of how the relationship between children and their primary caregiver(s) develops and how it impacts children’s subsequent developmental process. According to Bowlby (1973), children develop mental representations of themselves and others, known as internal working models, through their interactions with their primary caregiver(s). Children with secure attachment are more likely to form positive self-perceptions and relationships with others (Bowlby, 1969). In contrast, children who develop insecure attachment are more likely to struggle with coping with distress and form poor relationships with others, resulting from caregivers responding to their needs insensitively.

Although evidence suggests the continuity of attachment from childhood to adulthood (Bowlby, 1969), there are distinctions between these two variables based on individuals’ attachment needs, developmental stages, and characteristics of different relationships. As children grow into adolescents and emerging adults, they often continue to maintain connections with their primary caregivers while exploring new social roles outside of the family and forming close relationships with peers and romantic partners to develop adult attachment (Moretti & Peled, 2004). Secure adult attachment is generally characterized by flexibility, the ability to work independently and cooperatively with others, the ability to seek support from intimate partners, and the capacity to manage loss in a healthy manner (Brennan et al., 1998). Adult romantic relationships are thought to be underlined by two fundamental attachment-related dimensions: anxiety and avoidance. Adults with anxious attachment tend to experience worry and fear regarding abandonment or rejection by their partner, leading them to seek constant reassurance and validation from their partner. On the other hand, avoidant-attached individuals often feel uncomfortable with being close to their partner, which can lead them to withdraw from intimacy and emotional closeness in the relationship (Brennan et al., 1998). Thus, understanding the similarities and differences of attachment categories as well as dynamics of the attachment system is warranted (Lopez & Brennan, 2000).

Childhood Attachment, IPV Victimization, and Adult Attachment
     Various researchers have extensively investigated the significant association between attachment developed with romantic partners and its involvement in IPV dynamics (Bradshaw & Garbarino, 2004; Duru et al., 2019; Levendosky et al., 2012). However, most studies explored the relationship between adult attachment and IPV perpetration (Gormley & Lopez, 2010; McClure & Parmenter, 2020). Specifically, individuals with insecure attachment present intense fear of abandonment or rejection and activate their aggressive behaviors to control their partners (Gormley & Lopez, 2010). Regarding IPV victimization circumstances, few studies have examined attachment security among IPV survivors. Specifically, simultaneously exploring attachment with primary caregivers in childhood and attachment with romantic partners in adulthood could capture the complexity of the impact of IPV victimization experiences on relational and emotional outcomes. Ponti and Tani (2019) investigated both childhood attachment and adult attachment among 60 women who experienced IPV and indicated that the attachment to the mother could influence IPV victimization both directly and indirectly through the mediation effect of adult attachment with romantic partners. In other words, attachment with the mother could serve as a protector for not entering a violent romantic relationship or healthily managing the aftermath of traumatic experiences.

Childhood attachment has been identified as a potential moderator that may contribute to the variations of the healing process among IPV survivors in a small but growing number of studies (e.g., Scott & Babcock, 2010). Pang and Thomas (2020) examined the moderating role of childhood attachment on the relationship between exposure to domestic violence in adolescence and psychological outcomes and adult life satisfaction with a sample of 351 adult college students. They found that childhood attachment moderated the relationship between IPV exposure and adult life satisfaction but not psychological outcomes. This study provides empirical support for the moderating role of childhood attachment on early IPV exposure and later adult psychological and relationship outcomes. Given the context in which IPV occurs in the intimate relationships, not addressing the association between childhood attachment and adult attachment together would not fully capture the complexity of the attachment process in the adult population. It is possible that the relationship between IPV victimization and adult attachment security would be attenuated in conditions of childhood attachment. Therefore, the moderation effect of childhood attachment in the context of IPV needs to be empirically substantiated.

Childhood Attachment, IPV Victimization, and Self-Esteem
     Self-esteem generally refers to a person’s overall evaluation and attitude toward themself (Rosenberg, 1965). Experiencing IPV was found to have detrimental effects on an individual’s self-esteem; IPV survivors often have lower levels of self-esteem than non-abused individuals (Childress, 2013; Karakurt et al., 2014; Tariq, 2013). Experiencing IPV (e.g., emotional and psychological abuse) can lead to feelings of worthlessness and hopelessness, making it difficult for survivors to maintain autonomy and make decisions that are in their best interest (Tariq, 2013). IPV survivors consistently reported feeling burdened with a sense of guilt, shame, and self-blame for being victimized (Lindgren & Renck, 2008). Unfortunately, this can contribute to a vicious cycle, as survivors who have low self-esteem are less likely to take steps to leave abusive relationships (Karakurt et al., 2014), which leads to further victimization (Eddleston et al., 1998). Understanding the link between IPV victimization and self-esteem is crucial, as rebuilding self-esteem can also help survivors develop stronger relationships with others, gain strength toward ending abusive relationships, reduce risks of mental health problems, and feel more empowered to seek help and support (Karakurt et al., 2022).

The development of the self can be seen to unfold in the context of attachment and the internalization of important others’ perceptions and expectations. Numerous studies have shed some light on the association between childhood attachment and self-esteem, suggesting that secure attachment with primary caregivers can serve as a key protective factor for developing higher levels of self-esteem (Shen et al., 2021; Wilkinson, 2004). In contrast, individuals who reported insecure attachment with their primary caregivers tended to demonstrate lower levels of self-esteem (Gamble & Roberts, 2005). However, interpersonal trauma such as IPV can produce long-term dysfunctions of self (Childress, 2013). Although no study has directly explored the moderating role of childhood attachment buffering the relationship between IPV and self-esteem, several studies have indicated that parental support serves as a moderator role in the relationship between interpersonal violence and self-esteem (Duru et al., 2019). Indeed, if a person had secure attachment experiences in childhood, they may have developed a positive sense of self-worth and the belief that they deserve love and respect, which could buffer the negative effects of IPV on their self-esteem. Considering the existing literature and theoretical explanations as a whole, it seems reasonable to postulate that childhood attachment might serve as a potential moderator of the association between IPV and self-esteem.

Taken together, the literature consistently supports the significance of exploring protective factors contributing to IPV survivors’ healing process, yet no study to date has investigated the potential moderating role of childhood attachment on the association between IPV, adult attachment, and self-esteem in a non-clinical diverse sample. In tackling these gaps, we pose two research questions (RQs):

RQ1: How is IPV associated with adult attachment and self-esteem?
RQ2: How does childhood attachment moderate the relationships between IPV, adult
attachment, and self-esteem?

We hypothesized that: 1) IPV victimization is significantly positively associated with adult attachment (i.e., anxious attachment, avoidant attachment) and negatively associated with self-esteem; 2) Childhood attachment moderates the relationship between IPV victimization and adult attachment (i.e., anxious attachment, avoidant attachment); and 3) Childhood attachment moderates the relationship between IPV victimization and self-esteem.

Method

Sampling Procedures
     With approval from the university IRB, research recruitment information was posted on various social media platforms (e.g., Facebook, Craigslist, university announcement boards). Individuals who were 18 years of age or older and able to fill out the questionnaire in English were eligible for the study. Participants were directed to an online Qualtrics survey to voluntarily complete the informed consent and the measures listed in the following section. At the end of the survey, participants were prompted to enter their email addresses to win one of 10 $15 e-gift cards. Their email addresses were not included for data analysis.

Participants
     Of the 2,373 voluntary adult participants who took the survey, 1,708 (71.76%) individuals were retained for the final analysis, including 507 (29.68%) participants who experienced IPV in adulthood and 1,191 (69.73%) participants without a history of IPV in adulthood. We eliminated participants who either did not consent to the study (n = 36, 1.51%), were younger than 18 years old (n = 33, 1.39%), or did not complete 95% of the survey questions (n = 596, 25.11%). We examined whether those who were excluded from the sample because of missing or invalid data differed from those who were retained. There was a significant difference in age between the included sample (M = 28.89, SD = 12.38) and excluded sample (M = 32.10, SD = 13.51); t (2,255) = −3.48, p = 0.001. Therefore, excluding participants with missing data was less likely to significantly impact our results. Table 1 shows that 76.23% of the participants were female. The age range of the sample was broad, from 18 to 89 years old, with an average age of 30.

Table 1
Demographic and Key Variables Information (N = 1,708)

Variables     N      Percent      Range      M(SD)
Childhood attachment 1,708 100%       1–5         3.34(0.92)
IPV status

IPV

Non-IPV

1,698

507

1,191

99.41%

29.68%

69.73%

      0–1  
Self-Esteem 1,704 99.77%       3–40 26.98(7.46)
Anxious Attachment 1,708 100%       1–7 4.11(1.26)
Avoidant Attachment 1,708 100%       1–7 3.71(1.16)
Control Variables        
Gender

Male

Female

1,683

381

1,302

98.54%

22.31%

76.23%

   
Household Income

Less than $5,000

$5,000–$9,999

$10,000–$14,999

$15,000–$19,999

$20,000–$24,999

$25,000–$29,999

$30,000–$39,999

$40,000–$49,999

$50,000–$74,999

$75,000–$99,999

$100,000–$149,999

$150,000 or more

1,514

183

96

119

83

98

78

128

141

239

143

139

67

88.64%

10.70%

5.60%

7.00%

4.90%

5.70%

4.60%

7.50%

8.30%

14.00%

8.40%

8.10%

3.90%

   

 

Measures
Childhood Attachment
      The parental attachment subscale of the Inventory of Parent and Peer Attachment (Armsden & Greenberg, 1987) was used to measure childhood attachment. Participants rated their attachment to their parent(s) or caregiver(s) who had the most influence on them during their childhood. The subscale consists of 25 items divided into three dimensions, including 10 items on Trust (e.g., “My mother/father trusts my judgment”), nine items on Communication (e.g., “I can count on my mother/father when I need to get something off my chest”), and six items on Alienation (e.g., “I don’t get much attention from my mother/father”). Participants rated the items using a 5-point Likert scale ranging from 1 (almost never or never true) to 5 (almost always or always true). Responses were averaged, with a higher score reflecting more secure childhood attachment. This subscale has demonstrated relatively high internal consistency, with a Cronbach’s alpha of .93 (Armsden & Greenberg, 1987), and construct validity (Cherrier et al., 2023; Gomez & McLaren, 2007). In the present study, the Cronbach’s alpha coefficient for this subscale was .96. 

Intimate Partner Violence
     Participants’ experiences of IPV were assessed through the question “Have you ever experienced intimate partner violence (physical, sexual, or psychological harm) by a current or former partner or spouse since the age of 18?” Responses were coded as 1 = Yes, 0 = No.

Adult Attachment
    
Adult attachment was measured using the Experience in Close Relationships Scale (ECR; Brennan et al., 1998). The ECR consists of 36 items with 18 items assessing each of the two dimensions: anxious attachment (e.g., “I worry about being abandoned”) and avoidant attachment (e.g., “I try to avoid getting too close to my partner/friends”). To reduce confounding factors with childhood attachment with their parent(s) or primary caregiver(s), we only assessed adult attachment with close friends and/or romantic partners. Responses were rated on a 7-point Likert scale ranging from 1 (strongly disagree) to 7 (strongly agree). Two scores were computed by averaging items on each subscale, with a higher score reflecting a higher level of anxious or avoidant attachment. Two subscales demonstrated high construct validity in various studies (Gormley & Lopez, 2010; Ponti & Tani, 2019) and a relatively high consistency for anxiety (α = .91) and avoidance (α = .94; Brennan et al., 1998). Cronbach’s alpha coefficients for the present study were .93 for anxiety and .92 for avoidance.

Self-Esteem
     The Rosenberg Self-Esteem Scale (RSES; Rosenberg, 1965) is a 10-item self-report measure of overall feelings of self-worth or self-acceptance (e.g., “I am satisfied with myself”). All items were coded using a 4-point Likert scale ranging from 1 (strongly disagree) to 4 (strongly agree). Items were summed, with a higher score indicating a higher level of self-esteem. RSES has been frequently used in various studies, demonstrating high reliability and validity (Brennan & Morris, 1997; Rosenberg, 1979). The Cronbach’s alpha for the present study was .89.

Control Variables
    
To make more accurate estimates, we included control variables that are potentially associated with IPV exposures, such as gender and household income. Gender was dummy coded as 1 = Male, 2 = Female.

Data Analysis
     We used SPSS 27 for data preparation and Mplus 8 for data analysis. Missing data were treated with the full information maximum likelihood in Mplus as recommended (Acock, 2005). We examined all the bivariate relationships between all the variables within our study including IPV, childhood attachment, adult attachment (anxious and avoidant attachment), self-esteem, and control variables (i.e., gender and household income). We conducted path analysis to examine the moderating role of childhood attachment between IPV, self-esteem, and adult attachment (see Figure 1). We computed an interaction term by multiplying the predictor (IPV) and the moderator (childhood attachment). A moderation relationship is identified if the interaction item significantly predicts the dependent variables (Baron & Kenny, 1986). The goodness of model fit was evaluated by recommended indices with a non-significant chi-square value, RMSEA < .08, CFI > .90, TLI > .90, and SRMR < .05 (Hooper et al., 2008).

Figure 1
Path Analysis: Moderating Effect of Childhood Attachment on the Relationship Between IPV, Self-Esteem, and Adult Attachment

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Results

     Descriptive statistics and bivariate correlations of the study variables are demonstrated in Tables 1 and 2. Our model demonstrated good fit to the data, with χ2(4) = 41.90, p = .001, RMSEA = .07, 90% CI [.05, .08], CFI = .99, TLI = .99, SRMR = .02.

The standardized coefficients of the path model revealed that IPV survivors tended to have higher levels of anxious adult attachment (b = .67, p < .001) and avoidant adult attachment (b = .62, p < .001), and lower levels of self-esteem (b = −.29, p < .001) compared with participants without a history of IPV (see Table 3). Individuals with more secure childhood attachment tended to have lower levels of anxious adult attachment (b = −.38, p < .001) and avoidant adult attachment (b = −.31, p < .001), and higher levels of self-esteem (b = .22, p < .001). We found that childhood attachment buffered the relationship between IPV and self-esteem (b = .12, p < .001). Specifically, IPV survivors with more secure childhood attachment demonstrated higher levels of self-esteem. Although the moderation effect was statistically significant, the magnitude of the effect was small. Moreover, IPV survivors with more secure childhood attachment did not demonstrate significant differences on anxious or avoidant adult attachment compared to participants without a history of IPV.

Table 2
Bivariate Correlation Matrix of Variables

       1     2     3    4    5   6   7
1. Anxious Adult Attachment    –            
2. Avoidant Adult Attachment .40***   –          
3. Self-Esteem −.18*** −.15***    –        
4. Childhood Attachment −.45*** −.47*** .18***   –      
5. IPV .26*** .54*** −.17*** −.31***  –    
6. Gender −.10*** −.06** .14*** −.01 −.08***  
7. Household Income .03 .08*** −.05* −.08** −.06* −.01

*p < .05 (two-tailed). **p < .01. ***p < .001.

Table 3
Unstandardized and Standardized Path Coefficients (Standard Errors) for Path Analysis

Parameter Estimates   Anxious Adult

Attachment

Avoidant Adult

Attachment

Self-esteem
Childhood Attachment Unstandardized     −.37(.01)***     −.33(.02)***     .26(.04)***
  Standardized     −.38(.01)***     −.31(.02)***     .22(.03)***
IPV Unstandardized       .61(.01)***       .62(.02)***   −.33(.04)***
  Standardized       .67(.01)***       .62(.02)***   −.29(.03)***
IPV*Childhood Attachment

Interaction

Unstandardized       .00(.00)       .01(.01)     .10(.02)***
Standardized       .01(.01)       .01(.01)     .12(.02)***
Control Variables
Gender Unstandardized     −.03(.01)**     −.08(.03)**     .18(.06)**
  Standardized     −.02(.01)**     −.04(.01)**     .07(.02)**
Household Income Unstandardized       .01(.00)***       .01(.00)***   −.02(.01)**
  Standardized       .02(.01)***       .04(.01)***   −.06(.02)**

*p < .05 (two-tailed). **p < .01. ***p < .001.

Female participants tended to have lower levels of anxious (b = −.02, p < .01) or avoidant adult attachment (b = −.04, p < .01), and higher levels of self-esteem (b = .07, p < .01). Individuals with higher household income reported higher levels of anxious adult attachment (b = .02, p < .001), avoidant adult attachment (b = .04, p < .001), and lower levels of self-esteem (b = −.06, p < .01).

Discussion

     Although most existing literature predominantly focuses on revealing how the attachment style of the IPV perpetrators may influence their behavior (Velotti et al., 2018), our study contributes to the field by exploring the potential association between IPV victimization and adult attachment. Using a non-clinical sample, this study identified a positive association between IPV victimization and adult insecure attachment, including both anxious and avoidant dimensions. Meanwhile, a negative association was observed between IPV victimization and self-esteem. These findings concur with the tenets of attachment theory, which posits that individuals who experienced IPV would have a sense of betrayal of trust within intimate relationships. Rather than serving a secure attachment base in intimate adult relationships, IPV experience altered internal models of self as a victim and the other as perpetrator if the individuals stay in the abusive relationships for long enough (Levendosky et al., 2012). IPV survivors may adopt maladaptive coping strategies to mitigate the distress stemming from such intimate relationships. Consequently, these individuals might manifest anxious or avoidant attachment (Levendosky et al., 2012). At the same time, our results indicating reduced self-esteem among IPV victims resonates with previous studies, underscoring the detrimental effects of IPV on self-esteem (Childress, 2013; Karakurt et al., 2014). Enduring undeserved maltreatment from partners can persistently undermine an individual’s sense of self-efficacy and competency (Tariq, 2013).

Our findings do not identify childhood attachment as a significant moderating factor between IPV victimization and insecure attachment in adulthood. There is currently no study to compare with this finding, as the present study is the first to investigate the moderating role of childhood attachment on the relationship between adult IPV victimization and adult attachment.

Although previous research implied that childhood attachment can mitigate the adverse effects of IPV on psychological health and adult life satisfaction (Pang & Thomas, 2020), those studies assessed IPV experiences during an individual’s childhood. Nevertheless, we speculate that IPV targets an individual’s sense of security, which is predominantly influenced by adult romantic relationships (Dutton & White, 2012). This IPV-related sense of security distinguishes itself from childhood attachment, which primarily arises from interactions between parents and children. For instance, the fear associated with intimate relationships and feelings of betrayal, as a result of sustained physical and emotional abuse from an intimate partner, may not be readily alleviated by the sense of security instilled by one’s primary caregivers during childhood. Survivors who were abused by their partner may attempt to manage their distress by deactivating their attachment system, which would reflect more insecure working models of self and others, less self-confidence, and lack of trust in others (Kobayashi et al., 2021).

Conversely, our research determined that childhood attachment acts as a moderator between IPV victimization and self-esteem, aligning with previous studies showing parental support as a vital protective mechanism for the self-esteem of individuals subjected to interpersonal violence (Duru et al., 2019). As posited by attachment theory, secure childhood attachment fosters a robust self-concept, equipping individuals with the belief that they are valuable and deserving of love (Bowlby, 1969). This foundational belief may serve as an effective counterbalance, attenuating the damage to self-esteem precipitated by IPV. We acknowledge that although the moderating effect of childhood attachment on the relationship between IPV victimization and self-esteem was statistically significant, the magnitude standardized coefficients were fairly low. One possible explanation could be that when transitioning to adulthood, individuals expand their social relationships with their peers, romantic partners, and offspring, which may increasingly take on their attachment organizations (Allen et al., 2018; Guarnieri et al., 2015). Future studies could further explore the level of effectiveness of childhood attachment mitigating the negative impact of IPV experience on interpersonal and intrapersonal outcomes in adulthood.

Limitations and Future Directions
     Although the present study adds important contributions to the literature on IPV victimization and attachment, several limitations must be acknowledged. First, the dichotomous question of IPV could not fully capture all of the complexity of IPV victimization experiences. Future research should consider other factors related to IPV, including severity of the violence, types of IPV, age of onset, frequency, and duration. Second, retrospective reporting of childhood attachment with the primary caregiver(s) may lead to bias, or distortion in the recall of traumatic events from family of origin. However, previous studies have shown that retrospective reports only have a small amount of bias and that it is not strong enough to invalidate the results for adverse childhood experiences (Hardt & Rutter, 2004).

A growing body of literature has identified adult attachment as a risk factor of IPV (Doumas et al., 2008); here, we were not able to determine the causal relationship between adult attachment and IPV. We did conduct a path analysis using childhood attachment and adult attachment to predict IPV and self-esteem, but the model did not demonstrate a good fit. It is possible that attachment and IPV do not have a simple causal relationship; other childhood trauma experiences may contribute to the complexity of the IPV (Li et al., 2019).

Finally, not knowing the types of attachment in childhood limited our exploration regarding the changes of attachment styles from childhood to adulthood. The cross-sectional design of assessing childhood attachment and adult attachment concurrently did not provide sufficient evidence to determine the cause and effect. Bowlby (1969) believed that there is a continuity between childhood attachment and adult attachment over the life course. An individual’s security in adult relationships may be a partial reflection of their experiences with primary caregivers in early childhood (Ammaniti et al., 2000). However, one of the common misconceptions about attachment theory is that attachment is always stable from infancy to adulthood (Hazan & Shaver, 1994). It is possible that adults’ attachment patterns would change if their relational experiences were disturbed by relational trauma such as IPV (West & George, 1999) or childhood trauma (Shen & Soloski, 2024), which partially explains that childhood attachment is not a significant moderator between IPV and adult attachment from our findings. Future research could conduct longitudinal studies to examine the changes of attachment and how childhood trauma and IPV influences attachment over time.

Implications
    The findings of the present study provide insights that may inform clinical interventions for adult survivors who have experienced IPV to rebuild trusting interpersonal relationships and relationships with self. First, IPV experiences were significantly associated with anxious and avoidant adult attachment. During a traumatic experience, such as IPV, the attachment security system is activated, and survivors are in a surviving mode and tend to seek protection. Unfortunately, IPV involves power, control, and betrayal within an intimate relationship, which may damage internal working models of self and others if they stay for long enough (Levendosky et al., 2012). Thus, clinical interventions could focus on altering survivors’ negative internal working models to increase security within non-abusive close relationships. Close friends and family members could remain as a secure base for IPV survivors while they rebuild their personal and social lives that IPV have damaged. Additionally, therapeutic relationships could potentially serve as a secure base for survivors to explore their attachment behaviors. Survivors with avoidant attachment demonstrate deactivation attachment behaviors (Brenner et al., 2021), such as minimizing the impact of their trauma experiences, having a tendency to perceive and present themselves as strong, or avoiding discussing their trauma experiences to avoid the possible pain (Muller, 2009). Therefore, clinicians need to hold a safe space to challenge survivors with avoidant attachment to reactivate their attachment systems, such as by validating their avoidance and ambivalence or facilitating conversations to turn toward trauma-related experiences and emotions instead of turning away. Survivors with anxious attachment, on the other hand, demonstrate hyperactivation attachment behaviors, including fear of rejection and abandonment, hypersensitivity to and preoccupation with relationships and intimacy, utilization of negative emotional regulation strategies, as well as difficulties with leaving abusive relationships (Kural & Kovacs, 2022; Velotti et al., 2018). Clinicians could teach anxious-attached survivors some effective coping strategies, including self-regulation skills, creating boundaries, establishing safety plans, maintaining relationships with others, and increasing self-compassion (Rizo et al., 2017), which may help them to perceive themselves as worthy, lovable, and less dependent on others.

Furthermore, group counseling is a powerful way to learn about trusting oneself and others and to improve interpersonal relationship skills. Clients’ attachment patterns will be activated through interactions with the group members and the facilitators. Clients with anxious attachment tend to react to group members’ rejections, while clients with avoidant attachment tend to demonstrate withdrawal behaviors (e.g., disengagement; Zorzella et al., 2014). Therefore, when working with these clients, clinicians should stimulate the change of internal working models by using the group as a secure base to foster corrective emotional exchanges that challenge group members’ maladaptive beliefs about themselves and others (Marmarosh et al., 2013).

One of the important findings of the current study is that childhood attachment with the primary caregiver(s) buffered the relationship between IPV and self-esteem. From a clinical point of view, the result may bring hope for adult survivors of interpersonal violence regarding their healing process; primary caregivers could still serve as a secure base to offer a crucial opportunity to strengthen the internal working models that would positively affect later adjustment. Counselors could assess survivors’ attachment with their primary caregivers and give them autonomy to determine if it is beneficial to get their non-abusive primary caregivers involved in the treatment to provide support. Although the moderation result from the present study was statistically significant, the magnitude of moderating effect was small. During adulthood, individuals expand their relationship networks with their peers (e.g., friends) and romantic partners, as these relationships become more central in their daily life (Guarnieri et al., 2015). Therefore, the effectiveness of childhood attachment mitigating the adverse effect of IPV in adulthood clinically needs to be further investigated.

Conclusion
     The present study empirically examines the moderation role of childhood attachment on the association between IPV, adult attachment, and self-esteem. Specifically, we found that childhood attachment was a significant moderator buffering the relationship between the experience of IPV and self-esteem. A theoretical and empirical understanding of the role of attachment in the context of IPV has implications for researchers and clinicians working with survivors and their families.

Conflict of Interest and Funding Disclosure
The authors reported no conflict of interest
or funding contributions for the development
of this manuscript.

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Fei Shen, PhD, LMFT, is an assistant professor at Kean University. Ying Zhang, PhD, is an assistant professor at Clarkson University. Xiafei Wang, PhD, is an assistant professor at Syracuse University. Correspondence may be addressed to Fei Shen, 1000 Morris Ave., Union, NJ 07083, fshen@kean.edu.

Ink-ling of Identity: Unraveling Tattoo Culture for Mental Health Counselors

Russ Curtis, Lisen C. Roberts, Paul Stonehouse, Melodie H. Frick

Tattoo art is one of the earliest forms of self-expression, but the advent of colonialism, and its accompanying religious convictions, halted the practice in many Indigenous lands and led to widespread bias against tattooed people—a bias maintained to the present. How might the counseling profession respond to this residual bias and intentionally invoke a cultural shift destigmatizing tattoos? Through an extensive literature review, this article provides a more comprehensive understanding of tattoo-related mental health correlates, biases, and theories that enhance the effectiveness of counseling and parallel trends in the counseling profession that emphasize sociocultural influences on wellness. As a result of this survey, the authors propose a new theory of tattoo motivation, the unencumbered self theory of tattoos, which advances existing tattoo theory and aligns with current counseling trends by postulating that tattoos symbolize the uniquely human desire to transcend norms and laws imposed by external influences.

Keywords: tattoo, bias, mental health, theory, counseling

Imagine you are the parent of a 13-year-old girl. While at a parent–teacher conference, you learn your daughter is struggling with disruptive behavior and angry outbursts during class. The teacher asks if you would support your daughter seeing the school counselor and adds that the counselor is in the school building and available to speak with parents. You approach the counselor’s office, gently knock, and are welcomed by a warm, feminine-presenting adult. As the counselor offers their hand to shake, you notice an entirely tattooed forearm, and as you greet their eyes, more ink is evident on their neck.

What feelings, assumptions, or concerns emerge as you put yourself in the place of the parent in the above vignette? Despite the recent popularization of tattoos, a bias remains. Current research indicates that nearly half of adults in the United States between the ages of 18–34 have at least one tattoo (Roggenkamp et al., 2017), and the tattoo business is one of the fastest-growing enterprises, producing over a billion dollars in annual revenue (Zuckerman, 2020). This trend in tattoo art transcends the United States and is evident throughout the world (Ernst et al., 2022; Khair, 2022; Roberts, 2016). Nevertheless, bias against tattooed people remains, and women and people of color receive the brunt of this discrimination (Baumann et al., 2016; Guéguen, 2013; Kaufmann & Armstrong, 2022; Khair, 2022; Roberts, 2016). Given this meteoric resurgence in tattoo art and the discrimination that clings to it, implications for counseling practice inevitably exist.

Professional questions relevant to the counseling practice include: Is there a relationship between a desire for a tattoo and mental health? What motivates a person to seek a tattoo? In what ways may a tattoo bias subconsciously shape a counselor’s interactions with a client? How might the counseling community communicate a spirit of inclusion to the tattooed? To address these questions, this article employs the following structure. First, we provide a context for this bias by briefly examining the history and cultural perspectives of tattoos. Second, to establish the importance of this issue, we empirically demonstrate the reality of tattoo bias. Third, with this history of bias in mind, we comb the literature for research that explores the relationship between mental health and tattoos. Fourth, these relationships offer a frame of reference for our survey of established tattoo motivation theories, to which we propose an additional theory, the unencumbered self theory of tattoos, and reveal its significance within a clinical setting via a case study. Fifth, before concluding the article, we demonstrate how our inquiry’s content might be applied by enumerating our argument’s implications for the counseling profession.

Historical and Cultural Perspectives of Tattoos

The word tattoo originates from the Samoan term tatau, meaning “to tap lines on the body.” The practice of tattooing is known to have existed as early as 7000 BC, as seen on Egyptian mummies (Rohith et al., 2020). Otzi the Ice Man, dating back to 3000 BC, was discovered in 1991 with tattoos on his arms and wrist that are thought to have been applied for therapeutic purposes, a potential precursor to acupuncture (Schmid, 2013). Prior to the colonization of Indigenous lands by European countries, many tribes practiced the art of tattoo to symbolize adulthood, tribal membership, and status (Dance, 2019; Thomas et al., 2005). However, with the emergence of European imperialism, colonizers taught Indigenous people that tattoos were an abomination, scripturally prohibited, and therefore immoral. For instance, in The Holy Bible (New International Version, 1978, Leviticus 19:28) and The Qur’an (2004, Surah 7:46), specific passages forbid marking the skin.

Despite these condemnations, the practice of tattooing was not eradicated. Many cultures continued their tattoo traditions, and modern culture has adopted new traditions, which are even now expanding throughout the world (Ernst et al., 2022; Khair, 2022; Roberts, 2016). Although there is much intergroup variability, cultural identity can influence the motivation for and type of preferred tattoo. In India, for instance, tattoos often depict unique patterns specific to different tribal regions in the country. Specifically, in urbanized Indian geographic areas, there is increasing integration of tribal pattern tattoos with Western-influenced designs (Rohith et al., 2020). In Samoan culture, men receive an intricate tattoo called a pe’a while women receive a malu, both to indicate maturity (Dance, 2019). Lest the cultural importance of Indigenous tattoos be doubted, their misappropriation has resulted in litigation, thereby challenging attorneys to consider the property rights of tattoo designs (Tan, 2013).

Profoundly relevant to counseling, tattoos are often representational and symbolize something of importance. In a recent qualitative study of tattooed Middle Eastern women, Khair (2022) discovered themes related to taking ownership of their bodies in a patriarchal society and symbolism of their strength and desire to break free of patriarchal rules and religious mandates. In the United States, a study of mixed-race Americans’ tattoos revealed the most common tattoo themes include animal images and text of personally meaningful messages (Sims, 2018). In yet another group, White supremacists often get swastikas, crossed hammers, Confederate flags, and embellished Celtic crosses (Southern Poverty Law Center, 2006). Similarly, in Czech Republic prisons, the skull tattoo is a symbol representing neo-Nazi extremism, which then informs prison officials of inmates potentially becoming radicalized (Vegrichtová, 2018).

Exploring the intersection of religion and tattoos, Morello’s (2021) qualitative analysis of 21 people in three South American cities revealed that tattoos were more accepted among Catholics than evangelicals. Explained below, Morello classified the types of Christian tattoos as reversal, devotional, foundational, and then a nonreligious fourth category termed relational. According to participants, reversal tattoos symbolized regaining control of disempowering events, such as when Christians historically tattooed themselves to show Roman enslavers their devotion to Christ. Devotional tattoos were comprised of images and symbols representing religious themes (e.g., a cross), often used as a source of strength and identity. Foundational tattoos represent significant moments in life, such as major life transitions (e.g., the date of one’s conversion) or mystical experiences. Morello’s last category is akin to devotional tattoos, but the relational category was created to represent devotion to loved ones, such as images or symbols of one’s children.

In a related study examining the beliefs of religious women with and without tattoos, Morello et al. (2021) identified several common themes. This mixed methods study of 48 women in a conservative Christian college indicated that tattoos were not considered taboo by their religious friends and family and that tattooed participants spent considerable time determining which tattoo to receive. Predominant reasons for obtaining tattoos included social justice, friendship, and spiritual values. Summarizing previous research, individuals primarily choose tattoos to express their identity and uniqueness or to take ownership of their bodies. However, as discussed in the following section, there exists a bias against tattooed individuals.

Tattoo Bias

Unfortunately, with any practice that diverges from dominant cultural values, there is bias (Broussard & Harton, 2018). Although evidence indicates less discrimination against tattoos in the 21st century, negative judgments still exist explicitly and implicitly (Broussard & Harton, 2018; Williams et al., 2014; Zestcott et al., 2018). For example, Kaufmann and Armstrong (2022) found that law enforcement and the medical community hold negative sentiments toward tattooed people. They found that medical professionals who expressed negative judgments about their tattooed patients were likely to have patients not return. In fact, patients reported better rapport and increased trust with medical professionals who asked about the meaning of their tattoos. In other words, negative judgment toward, and lack of acknowledgment of, tattoos were detrimental to building the trust needed to provide optimal and consistent care (Kaufmann & Armstrong, 2022).

Unjustly, women and people of color with tattoos experience more significant discrimination than men or White people (Baumann et al., 2016; Camacho & Brown, 2018; Guégen, 2013; Solanke, 2017). For example, women encounter prejudice when failing to gain employment due to having visible tattoos regardless of having excellent job qualifications (Al-Twal & Abuhassan, 2024; Henle et al., 2022). Moreover, women of color have experienced job discrimination by being questioned if they have visible or nonvisible tattoos (i.e., inkism), being forbidden from having or being required to cover tattoos regardless of cultural relevance (e.g., covering a traditional Māori tattoo), or being required to prove that they do not have tattoos—as alleged in a legal complaint against a Singaporean airline that required female attendants to wear a swimsuit and demonstrate to their employers that they did not have tattoos (Solanke, 2017, Chapter 8). Women with tattoos also experience ambivalent sexism due to rejecting the feminine apologetic (i.e., not acting or dressing in stereotypical feminine ways); they are also perceived as wanting attention and sexually promiscuous (Heckerl, 2021). For instance, Guéguen (2013) found that women on the beach displaying a lower-back butterfly tattoo were significantly more likely to be approached by men compared to women without the tattoo, and the men interviewed indicated that they thought they had a better chance of getting a date and having sex with the tattooed women than the nontattooed women (Guéguen, 2013). In other words, men in this study had the biased perception that women with tattoos were more sexually promiscuous than nontattooed women.

This bias appears within incarceration rates as well. In a study conducted by Camacho and Brown (2018), they found that arrestees with neck tattoos were more likely to receive felony charges specifically for larceny offenses. Among these groups, Black individuals with neck tattoos were more likely than others to face felony charges (Camacho & Brown, 2018). It is also noteworthy that law enforcement catalog the tattoos of arrestees in the Registry of Distinct Marks (Miranda, 2020), which is kept in their permanent record and could potentially bias future incarceration and convictions due to the criminogenic stigmatization of individuals with tattoos (Martone, 2023; Rima et al., 2023).

Neck tattoos specifically appear to elicit bias (Baumann et al., 2016). Given two sets of photos of male and female faces, with a neck tattoo and without a visible tattoo, participants were asked to choose among the photos that they would most like to have as their surgeon. In a separate condition, participants were asked to choose who they would most like to have as their car mechanic. In both experiments, participants preferred to have a nontattooed person as their surgeon or mechanic. However, the preference was more substantial for a nontattooed surgeon than a nontattooed mechanic. Female participants assessed the tattooed faces more positively than male participants, but still preferred the nontattooed faces (Baumann et al., 2016).

Roberts (2016) suggested that although tattoos are becoming more prevalent worldwide, they are not yet entirely accepted. As such, employment discrimination occurs for people with visible tattoos. Roberts (2016) suggested employers discriminate primarily because of the fear of customer complaints and the concomitant loss of business. They further suggested that small businesses in rural areas, which tend to be more conservative, may be even more likely to refuse employment to tattooed workers.

Clients’ Perception of Tattooed Counselors
     To date, very few published studies examine the perceptions of tattoos within the mental health professional arena. One exception, however, is a recent publication examining the perception of potential mental health clients of psychologists with or without tattoos. Zidenberg et al. (2022) recruited 534 participants to determine if there were negative perceptions of psychologists who had tattoos. First, participants were presented with a mock profile of a fictional clinical psychologist. Each participant was randomly assigned to view one of three images of the psychologist: with no tattoo, a neutral tattoo (a flower), or a provocative tattoo (a skull with flames). Participants then rated the counselor on perceived competence and their personal feelings toward her.

Contrary to the researchers’ initial expectations, the psychologist’s photo with the provocative tattoo was rated more likable, interesting, and confident and less lazy than the psychologist with a neutral or no tattoo. Interestingly, the psychologist’s photo without a tattoo was rated as more professional, but this did not equate to participants’ believing that the psychologist would thus provide better care. The researchers speculated that while nontattooed people are viewed as more professional, they are not necessarily who clients believe will give the best mental health care. They further hypothesized that professionalism may convey a bias of being “better than” the clients and thereby might be perceived as less authentic. Moreover, participants in this study believed they would get better help from a more “authentic” psychologist, and that the provocative tattoo communicated a sense of authenticity (Zidenberg et al., 2022).

Mental Health and Tattoos
     Although early studies (e.g., Grumet, 1983) concluded that tattoos were a sign of maladjustment, contemporary research indicates that tattooed people are as healthy as nontattooed people (Mortensen et al., 2019; Pajor et al., 2015). In general, today the mere presence of a tattoo is not correlated with mental or behavioral issues (Roggenkamp et al., 2017). In fact, most people in many cultures conscientiously obtain tattoos to express themselves and honor people and causes they deeply care about (Khair, 2022; Naudé et al., 2019; Shuaib, 2020). Nevertheless, in one study of a German community (N = 1,060), which sampled people aged 14–44, 40.6% who reported childhood abuse or neglect had at least one tattoo, compared to 29.4% tattooed participants who reported no significant abuse (Ernst et al., 2022). However, Ernst et al. (2022) cautioned that the mere presence of a tattoo is not perfectly correlated with childhood abuse. Aesthetic embellishment of the body is the most common reason for getting tattoos, and it should not be considered an automatic indication of childhood abuse (Ernst et al., 2022).

Evidence suggests that the number of tattoos as well as their placement and content better indicate potential maladjustment than the mere presence of an easily concealed tattoo. Specifically, Mortensen et al. (2019) found that participants (N = 2008 adults) who had four or more tattoos were 15.4% more likely to report having been diagnosed with a mental health problem compared to 5.8% of participants with only one tattoo. Further, 13.4% of the participants with visible tattoos reported having a mental health diagnosis, and 28.2% of the participants who self-reported having an offensive tattoo also reported having a mental health diagnosis. In other words, multiple and visible tattoos may be more closely correlated with mental and behavioral issues than the mere presence of tattoos. However, contrary to Mortensen et al. (2019), in their study of life satisfaction with a sample of 449 participants (16–58 years old), Pajor et al. (2015) used the Multidimensional Self-Esteem Inventory (MSEI; O’Brien & Epstein, 1988), a psychological assessment tool with 116 items graded on a 5-point scale and designed to measure various aspects of self-esteem. Results indicated that tattooed people reported significantly higher competence than nontattooed: 37.2 versus 33.6 (p < .001). Tattooed participants also scored significantly higher on a measure of personal power, 35.6 versus 33.5 (p < .01), and significantly lower scores on a measure of anxiety and insomnia, 1.50 versus 1.75 (p < .05). Thus, although numerous visible tattoos could potentially indicate mental or behavioral issues, the research is not conclusive, suggesting the need for counselors to open-mindedly assess each client’s motivations for obtaining tattoos.

Contrary to previous hypotheses, tattoos are rarely a form of self-harm (i.e., cutting, self-mutilation). For example, Aizenman and Jensen (2007) analyzed a sample of college students (N = 1,330; ages 17–39) to determine mental health differences between students who self-injure and those with tattoos. The majority of tattooed students reported receiving tattoos as a way to express their individuality, while students who self-injured were motivated by feelings of insecurity and loss of control. Participants also completed assessments measuring depression and self-esteem. In terms of general wellness, the self-injury group (no tattoos) reported higher mean depression scores compared to both the tattoo group’s score and the nontattooed (no self-injury) score. The self-injury group also reported lower mean self-esteem scores compared to both the tattooed and the nontattooed groups. Noteworthy is the fact that there was no significant difference between the tattooed and nontattooed groups in terms of depression and self-esteem, which further suggests that tattooed college students are no more likely to experience mental health issues than nontattooed college students.

In a more recent study to determine whether tattooing was a form of self-injury, Solís-Bravo et al. (2019) found that from a sample of 438 adolescent males, 11.5% reported engaging in nonsuicidal self-injury (NSSI), but only 1.8% indicated receiving a tattoo with the explicit intention of feeling pain. However, they also found that 62.5% of the students with tattoos self-injured compared to 10.6% of students without tattoos. Thus, with this small subsample of tattooed NSSI students, it was suggested that tattooed adolescents should be screened for potential mental health issues. Yet, considering that only eight students in this sample reported getting a tattoo to feel pain, further replication of this work is needed before confirming a conclusive relationship between tattoos and NSSI (Solís-Bravo et al., 2019).

Exploring the correlation between tattoos and premature mortality (e.g., violent death, drug overdose), Stephenson and Byard (2019) found that there was a trend for people with tattoos to die at a younger age and to experience an unnatural death compared to nontattooed people. However, these results were not statistically significant, indicating that there was no meaningful difference between age and cause of death between tattooed and nontattooed people.

More contemporary research examined the relationship between body image and tattoo acquisition (Jabłońska & Mirucka, 2023). Using a sample of 327 Polish tattooed women to examine a relationship between body image and tattoos, 45.26% reported acceptance of their appearance and a deep connection to their bodies. Researchers speculated that they received tattoos as a way to adorn their bodies and express their individuality. Another 36% reported an unstable body image, meaning they perceived both positive and negative aspects of their bodies. It was speculated that this group used tattoos to conceal perceived flaws. The remaining 18.65% held a negative body image. Although the majority of their sample held either positive or mixed body image estimations, the researchers’ speculation as to why subjects received tattoos makes it difficult to infer correlation between tattoos and well-being. Nevertheless, nearly half the sample reported appreciation for their bodies and a desire to accentuate their positive self-image with body art.

Relatedly, some trauma survivors get tattoos to symbolize what they experienced and how they have grown (Crompton et al., 2021). The semicolon is one example of this, indicating that while one life chapter may have been traumatic, that is not the end of the story. Using tattoos to navigate trauma is further supported by Kidron (2012), who noted that some descendants of Holocaust survivors replicated the number tattoo on their arms to illustrate the connection to their grandparent, redefining the tattoos from markers of trauma to markers of survival and expanding their interfamilial bond and cultural identity.

In summary, studies indicate that the mere presence of a tattoo is not significantly correlated with mental or behavioral issues. Counselors should avoid assuming that tattooed clients have mental health issues, even if multiple visible tattoos are sometimes linked with adverse health outcomes or behaviors. Because tattoos are so often attached to identity, body image, and important life events, counselors should thoroughly explore with clients why they obtained such tattoos and what they symbolize. In order to assist with such exploration, the next section identifies a number of recognized tattoo motivation theories.

Tattoo Motivation Theories

To determine effective strategies to reduce tattoo bias and counsel tattooed clients, it is important to understand the motivations and theoretical premises of why people get tattoos. This section describes recognized tattoo motivation theories. Recent findings in tattoo research cited within this article highlight the limitations of these theories and prompted us to propose our own, the unencumbered self theory of tattoos, which focuses on sociocultural influences. From this new perspective, we hope counselors will have a clearer understanding of the motivations behind getting a tattoo, which will in turn increase understanding of tattoo culture and what this implies about clients and counseling practice. To illustrate how these theoretical models might be of use in a clinical setting, in the subsequent section we provide a case study in which we discuss, compare, and contrast theories and exemplify the need for a new understanding of tattoo motivation.

Psychodynamic Theory of Tattoo
     The first hypothesis for tattooing is rooted in psychodynamic theory. This theory posits that tattoos are an outward manifestation of intrapersonal conflict or unresolved psychological concerns (Grumet, 1983; Karacaoglan, 2012; Lane, 2014). The belief is that permanent skin marking serves as a visible mnemonic that prompts a defense mechanism that helps alleviate the anxiety caused by conflict within the id, ego, and superego. In other words, the symbolism embodied within the marking of the skin iteratively releases blocked psychic energy, causing temporary relief from various difficult symptoms.

Psychodynamic theory is problematic because it fails to address the alternative motivations for getting tattoos, namely, the aforementioned social–cultural perspective. Moreover, Freud’s psychoanalytic approach is rooted in Western civilization’s understanding of internal processes and is therefore heavily influenced by a European, White, male perspective of psychic processes, thus ignoring the effects of oppression and inequality on personal identity, mental health, and behavior. As was indicated in the previous research review, and as we will see in subsequent sections, current tattoo research does not support the notion that tattoos are merely the result of unconscious conflict.

Human Canvas and Upping the Ante Theories of Tattoo
     Moving beyond the arguably deficit ideology of the psychodynamic theory of tattoos, Carmen et al. (2012) proposed two evolutionary theories of tattoo motivation that transcend obvious reasons like self-expression and group membership. The first theory, human canvas, argues that it is our innate longing to express the most authentic desires of our psyche through symbolic thought, originally on cave walls and later on our bodies. Their second theory, upping the ante, postulated that with increasing longevity and improved health care, the opportunities for attracting mates are more competitive, and people must devise new ways to stand out to attract mates, much like a peacock spreading its feathers.

The human canvas and upping the ante theories of tattoos are at least to some degree supported by current research (e.g., Wohlrab et al., 2007), and both theories advance our understanding of the motivation behind tattoos beyond psychodynamic theory. Indeed, people spend considerable time and thought choosing their tattoos for personal self-expression (Kaufmann & Armstrong, 2022) and to symbolize cultural traditions, sexual expression, and the love of art (Wohlrab et al., 2007). Although these theories advance tattoo theory, they fail to consider the even deeper meaning which suggests that tattoos are a way to regain bodily control and express displeasure with mandated values imposed by external influences. In essence, it is clear that tattoos are a form of self-expression, potentially to increase personal uniqueness and attractiveness, but this fails to explain what people are hoping to express. Thus, informed by contemporary tattoo research, we propose a new and expanded theory that attempts to explain the rationale behind tattoo acquisition through a wider societal lens.

The Unencumbered Self Theory of Tattoo
     The unencumbered self theory of tattoos advances existing tattoo theory and aligns with current counseling trends by postulating that tattoos symbolize the uniquely human desire to transcend norms and laws imposed by external influences such as imperialism. After an exhaustive review of the tattoo literature, it is evident that the motivation to reclaim personal power from oppressive systems is one reason some people get tattoos, and this motivation is not explicitly stated within existing theories. While most closely aligned with the human canvas theory, the unencumbered self theory of tattoos differs in one subtle but essential way. The human canvas theory postulates that tattoos are a general form of self-expression (e.g., hobbies, memorials, identity, individuality). At the same time, the unencumbered self theory of tattoos suggests that specific individuals acquire tattoos as a deliberate assertion of autonomy and a repudiation of arbitrary societal norms. Take, for example, a client of Cherokee heritage who gets a tattoo depicting Cherokee syllabary. The human canvas theory would hold that this tattoo is motivated by the client’s desire to identify with her cultural heritage. The unencumbered self theory of tattoos acknowledges her desire to identify with her cultural heritage, but this desire is motivated by the need to disengage from the oppressive systems that successfully squelched her people’s values for so long.

Evidence supporting the unencumbered self theory of tattoos includes cross-cultural studies examining motivations behind obtaining tattoos (Atkinson, 2002; Khair, 2022; Kloẞ, 2022). Atkinson (2002) reported that Canadian women wore tattoos to challenge societal definitions of femininity, and Khair (2022) found that Middle Eastern women obtained tattoos primarily to express their uniqueness and to indicate ownership of their bodies. Khair (2022) stated, “In fact, women of the Middle East have been struggling to obtain the freedom of their identity due to various restrictive reasons that relate to religion” (p. 3). This sentiment is further supported by Stein (2011) who stated, “My data suggest that—rather than seeing themselves as capitulating to market forces—people think of their decision to get tattoos as an exceptionally deep expression of personal identity, as well as a dramatic declaration of autonomy” (p. 128).

Additionally supporting the cultural motivations behind obtaining tattoos, Kloẞ (2022) identified Hindu women having tattoos that symbolize both oppression from and resistance to patriarchy, colonialism, and orthodox religious beliefs. Relatedly, Stein (2011) stated that the motivation behind tattoos is, at least in part, “a defiance of patriarchal authority” (p. 113). This desire to live unencumbered is also evidenced in research indicating that tattooed people are less likely to be members of religious groups (Laumann & Derick, 2006); are less likely to conform to societal norms, as evidenced by lower scores on personality assessments measuring agreeableness and conscientiousness (Tate & Shelton, 2008); and are considered more authentic and relatable (Zidenberg et al., 2022).

The unencumbered self theory of tattoos also coincides with current research and theoretical advancements in the counseling profession. Integrative approaches, such as narrative, relational, and art therapies, illustrate how tattoos can be used to externalize issues and emotions onto the body and promote self-expression by re-authoring life stories that are freeing and healing (Alter-Muri, 2020; Covington, 2015). Further, there is an increasing interest in Indigenous healing practices and the counseling profession’s embrace of a more collaborative and collective approach to health and wellness. To illustrate how the unencumbered self theory of tattoos advances tattoo theory and serves the counseling profession, we compare and contrast the existing theories in the following case study.

Case Study and Discussion

In this fictional case study, Sage is a 28-year-old, cisgender, queer, able-bodied female whose mother is Eastern Band Cherokee and whose father identifies as Mexican American. Sage upholds many traditional Cherokee customs and regularly attends tribal council meetings as well as powwows where she dances in traditional native attire. Sage has several visible tattoos on her arms and one on the back of her neck, all of which symbolize her Cherokee heritage. She presented to counseling with increasing depression after quitting drugs and alcohol for the past year and reports being unhappy in her job with no meaningful relationships. Sage’s counselor does not have tattoos and identifies as White, female, and a social justice advocate who knows very little about people with tattoos or Cherokee customs.

From the psychodynamic theory of tattoo (Grumet, 1983), Sage’s tattoos would be considered an expression of inner conflict and unmet needs, and the counselor would ask questions hoping to uncover unconscious beliefs that are causing her depression. In this case, the counselor may not even mention her tattoos, but instead view them from a deficit lens indicating a personal problem to resolve.

In both the human canvas and upping the ante evolutionary theories of tattoos (Carmen et al., 2012), Sage’s tattoos could indicate her desire to express her individuality and enhance her attractiveness. With this in mind, the counselor is likely to acknowledge her tattoos and ask about their meaning. However, both theories fail to recognize that Sage’s tattoos may signify deeper underlying issues related to potential oppression and inequality she feels because of her race, ethnicity, and gender.

From the unencumbered self theory of tattoos, Sage’s tattoos could reflect her motivational factors, feelings of alienation, and desire to align her authentic self and heritage. From this perspective, the counselor might explore whether she has experienced discrimination and how the impact of societal marginalization shaped her current sense of self. For example, the counselor may ask, “Have you ever experienced feelings of alienation or disconnect from others, and if so, how do you think your tattoos relate to those experiences?” Another counselor probe could be, “What emotions or thoughts come up when you think about the stories or meanings behind your tattoos?” In addition, the counselor may inquire into cultural healing traditions that help Sage reclaim her authenticity and realign her with her Indigenous heritage. In this instance, the counselor may ask, “Are specific cultural or familial traditions associated with your tattoos, and how do they contribute to your sense of authenticity?” or “Have your tattoos played a role in helping you reconnect with or reclaim aspects of your cultural identity?” Ultimately, through understanding the unencumbered self theory of tattoos, the counselor can better assist Sage by gaining deeper insight into her experiences, her motivations, and the significance of her tattoos within the context of her identity and mental health journey.

In summary, clients’ motivations for tattoos are complex and include explicit explanations, such as self-expression and identity, and potentially implicit motivations, such as increased attractiveness and autonomy. Based upon the tattoo motivation research, we believe the unencumbered self theory of tattoos provides a more comprehensive understanding of the reasons people get tattoos, which appears to be motivated by boldly proclaiming their desire for autonomy and not merely to enhance personal attractiveness. With these findings in mind, the subsequent section describes how counselors, and the counseling profession more broadly, can enhance counseling practice with tattooed clients.

Implications for Counseling

     Tattooed clients and counselors will become increasingly common, if not the norm. Consequently, there are clinical, professional, ethical, and societal considerations associated with the increasing popularity of tattoo art. This section addresses what counselors can do to adeptly navigate the increasing prevalence of tattoo culture and better serve their clients.

Counselors must reexamine their potential bias about tattooed clients and recognize that current research suggests they are not more likely to have mental and behavioral problems (e.g., Pajor et al., 2015). In fact, tattoos on a client might indicate their readiness for counseling by showing their strength and desire to break free of parental and societal expectations (e.g., Crompton et al., 2021). However, the number and placement of tattoos may better indicate potential mental health issues (Mortensen et al., 2019). With this in mind, asking clients about their tattoos early in the counseling relationship may help build rapport and provide potentially rich information about the client’s life story. Specifically, if the client’s tattoo is visible, it would be appropriate and possibly helpful to ask about it during intake (Kaufmann & Armstrong, 2022).

To foster genuine rapport and mitigate power imbalances in the therapeutic relationship, it is crucial for counselors to engage in self-reflection, cultivate cultural awareness and humility, and understand the potential cultural significance of tattoos (Day-Vines et al., 2018). Initiating conversations about clients’ tattoos early in counseling can be an effective strategy. Counselors might ask: “Tattoos often have special meanings or stories attached to them. What inspired you to get yours?” This approach demonstrates respect for the client’s personal and cultural narratives, promoting a more equitable and empathetic counseling environment. For instance, inquiring about a client’s neo-Nazi tattoos demonstrates the counselor’s desire to understand all aspects of the client. Despite the offensive nature of the tattoos, questioning could prompt the client to disclose personal experiences such as family addiction, abuse, poverty, insecurity, and fear of losing one’s identity in an increasingly multicultural society. These disclosures might not have emerged otherwise.

Counselors do not necessarily need to cover their tattoos, because they may help increase clients’ perception of the counselor’s relevance (Zidenberg et al., 2022). In fact, the counselor disclosing their tattoos may propel some clients to share more personally relevant information during sessions (Stein, 2011). Depending upon the client, a counselor with tattoos could broach the topic of how their tattoos symbolize their pursuit of authenticity in a society where the values of marginalized populations (e.g., women, non-White, LGBTQ) are too often not recognized, understood, or honored.

This example shows how a counselor could broach the topic of tattoos:

During our sessions, we have been exploring various aspects of identity and self-expression, which has led me to reflect on something personal I would like to share with you. As you may have noticed, I have some tattoos that hold particular significance. I have found that my tattoos remind me of essential experiences and values in my life. I share this with you because I believe it is vital for us to foster an environment of openness and authenticity in our therapeutic relationship. However, I want to emphasize that our sessions are about you and your journey. So, if you have any questions or concerns about my tattoos or anything else, please feel free to share them with me. I am here to create a safe and open space to discuss anything that comes up for you.

     Thus, the counselor’s tattoo narrative may offer the client freedom to explore repressed aspects of themselves, which, once discovered, may allow for more self-awareness and appreciation, ultimately resulting in better mental health. Counselors can also simply discuss their tattoos with clients who express curiosity or concern. This approach allows the counselor to provide context and meaning behind their tattoos, potentially fostering a deeper connection and understanding between counselor and client.

However, some clients might be disinclined to continue services with an obviously tattooed counselor. As such, counselors may choose to cover their tattoos during sessions, especially if they anticipate that it may distract or discomfort certain clients. This approach can help maintain a professional appearance and minimize potential barriers to therapy. These kinds of tensions may lead to the strategic use of profile photographs on one’s counseling practice’s website. Depending on their client base and target demographics, counselors may opt for photographs that either prominently display or discreetly conceal their tattoos. Prioritizing the client’s comfort and preferences is essential. Counselors should gauge the client’s reactions and adjust their approach accordingly. In sum, the best advice for counselors with tattoos is to rely on their clinical intuition and discretion when deciding how to approach discussions about personal tattoos with clients. As with any counselor disclosure, discussing personal tattoos should be used intentionally with the client’s best interest in mind.

If a client inquires about the advisability of getting tattoos, it is essential to assist them in thoroughly processing this decision, as with any significant life choice. Be open with clients that biases against tattoos persist, with people of color and women being the most stigmatized. Regrettably, many individuals harbor negative perceptions of tattooed people, particularly regarding visible body art and content that might be deemed offensive. Counselors can ask probing questions about the client’s reasoning for obtaining tattoos, such as, “What does getting this tattoo mean to you, and how do you think it will impact your sense of identity or self-expression?” and “Have you considered any potential long-term implications of getting this tattoo, including how you might feel about it in the future or how it might affect your personal or professional life?”

The intersection of tattoos, mental health, and social justice represents a rich and largely unexplored area of research for counselor educators. As the prevalence of tattoos increases among both clients and counselors, we believe this presents a rich opportunity for personal exploration and the discovery of values and strengths, an area currently underexplored in the counseling profession. Future research on tattoos could examine their presence on counselors and clients, their effect on the therapeutic alliance, personality differences among tattooed individuals, and tattooed people’s likelihood of engaging in advocacy work. To advance dialogue and research in this domain, the Western Carolina University counseling program’s faculty, students, and graduates created the Intersection: Art, Mental Health, and Social Justice magazine (Mock et al., 2021). This publication aimed to enhance dialogue and understanding regarding tattoos. Readers are encouraged to peruse the online magazine to explore personal stories of tattooed counselors.

Conclusion

With the increasing popularity and prevalence of tattoos combined with continued cultural bias, body art is an area that warrants further research and discussion in the counseling profession. In summary, there does not appear to be significant relationship between tattooed people experiencing more mental health problems than nontattooed people. However, there is continued bias against tattooed people, and the reasons for obtaining tattoos are rooted more deeply than merely increasing personal attractiveness. As described in the unencumbered self theory of tattoos, the reemergence of tattoo art may be emblematic of the trends seen throughout the counseling profession to advance the discipline from its focus on intra- and interpersonal theories of health and wellness to include broader sociological perspectives on healing. The reemergence of tattoo art, then, could be an allegory for moving beyond the White, male, heteronormative standards that have traditionally dominated the profession, ushering forth an age of inclusivity where the rich and complex tapestry of all people’s values, traditions, and customs can be known and honored.

 

Conflict of Interest and Funding Disclosure
The authors reported no conflict of interest
or funding contributions for the development
of this manuscript.

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Russ Curtis, PhD, LCMHC, is a professor at Western Carolina University. Lisen C. Roberts, PhD, is an associate professor at Western Carolina University. Paul Stonehouse, PhD, is an assistant professor at Western Carolina University. Melodie H. Frick, PhD, NCC, ACS, LPC-S, is a professor at Western Carolina University. Correspondence may be addressed to Russ Curtis, Western Carolina University, 28 Schenck Parkway, Office 214, Asheville, NC 28803, curtis@wcu.edu.