Undoing the Damage: A Practical Guide to Healing from Internalised Homophobia for Gay Men Over 40

Older man with grey hair seen from behind, looking out over a cityscape on a cloudy day. Beside him is text that reads: 'Healing from Internalised Homophobia for Gay Men Over 40'.

Do you ever find yourself hesitating to mention your partner in a new group of colleagues? Or perhaps you feel a sudden, sharp flash of discomfort seeing a gay couple hold hands in public, even though a part of you wishes you could do the same without a second thought? You might even find yourself being overly critical of other, more openly expressive gay men. If any of this resonates, this quiet, critical inner voice has a name: internalised homophobia.

It’s an experience shared by countless gay men, especially those of us who grew up and came of age before some parts of the world adopted more inclusive laws and approaches to gay men. It’s an understandable, almost inevitable, consequence of navigating a society that wasn’t built for us.

In my work as a therapist, I see how these deep-seated feelings can cast a long shadow over a life that should be full of joy and connection. The purpose of this article is explore what it is, where it comes from, and most importantly, I’ll offer you a compassionate, practical toolkit to begin the vital work of healing.

What Exactly is Internalised Homophobia? (A No-Jargon Definition)

At its core, internalised homophobia is what happens when we absorb the negative messages, stereotypes, and prejudices about being gay that we’ve been exposed to throughout our lives.

Society whispers (and sometimes shouts) that being gay is wrong, shameful, or less-than. Over time, gay men can unknowingly internalise those whispers until they become part of our own inner monologue. It becomes a critical voice that judges us, and other gay people, by a heteronormative rule book we never agreed to follow.

It’s not necessarily a conscious belief. You can be proudly out, have a loving partner, and a great life, yet still have this running in the background. It often shows up in subtle ways.

Here are some common examples you might recognise:

  • A persistent feeling of shame: A vague, nagging sense that something is fundamentally "wrong" with you, even when things are going well.

  • The "not gay enough" or "too gay" dilemma: Feeling like a fraud in the gay community, or harshly judging other gay men who are more stereotypically "flamboyant" or "camp."

  • Minimising your identity: You might introduce your husband as your "partner" or your partner as your "friend" in certain settings to avoid potential discomfort - yours or theirs.

  • Difficulty with intimacy and affection: Finding it hard to fully accept love, compliments, or physical affection from another man, as if you don't truly deserve it.

  • A barrier to true connection: Holding back parts of yourself in professional or family life, creating a subtle but exhausting split between your "gay life" and your "real life."

If you see yourself in this list, please take a breath. It doesn't make you a bad person. It makes you human. It’s suggests that you’ve sustained some wounds - but every wound can be tended to.

Internalised Homophobia Over 40 The Roots: Why Do So Many Gay Men Over 40 Struggle With This?

To heal, we first need to understand the source of the hurt. For men in their 40s, 50s, and 60s and beyond, this is both a personal and historical issue. We are a generation whose identities were shaped by a specific, and often hostile, cultural climate.

Black-and-white photograph of an older man in silhouette walking alone across a brick-paved courtyard, casting a long shadow, with a dark doorway behind him.

A Legacy of Law and Media: The Impact of Section 28

Any gay man who's 50 or older reading this article will have been a teenager or young man when Section 28 was enacted in 1988. This piece of legislation banned local authorities and schools from "promoting" homosexuality.

It effectively created a state-sanctioned silence. There were no discussions in the classroom, no books in the library, and no support from teachers.

It sent a powerful message: being gay was something so shameful it could not even be spoken of. This institutionalised silence taught young gay men that their identity was a dirty secret.

At the same time, media portrayals were scarce, and when they did exist, they were often of tragic figures, predatory villains, or the butt of a joke. Gay men had no map, no positive role models, no one to show them what a happy, successful gay life could look like.

The Shadow of the AIDS Crisis

It is impossible to overstate the generational trauma inflicted by the AIDS epidemic. For those of us who came of age in the 80s and 90s, the public awakening to gay life was inextricably linked with fear, illness, and death.

The "gay plague" headlines and terrifying "Don't Die of Ignorance" tombstone adverts fused gay identity with a profound sense of danger and dread in the public consciousness.

This created a deep-seated trauma, teaching us that our sexuality - our very being - was potentially lethal. That level of fear doesn't disappear over time; it embeds itself in our nervous system.

The Family and the Schoolyard

Long before laws and headlines, there was the school playground and the family dinner table. The casual cruelty of homophobic "jokes," the use of "gay" as a universal insult for anything weak or undesirable, the pressure to have a girlfriend - these were the daily micro-aggressions that chipped away at our self-worth. It became the soundtrack to our formative years. It taught us to be vigilant, to hide, and to believe that the most authentic parts of ourselves were liabilities.

Your Toolkit for Healing: 5 Practical Steps to Practise Self-Acceptance

Two men sitting on grass in a park, smiling and clasping hands in a supportive gesture. One man has grey hair and a beard, the other has dark hair and a trimmed beard. They appear relaxed and friendly.

Understanding the roots is validating, but healing requires action. You have the power to move on from these old patterns by building a stronger, more compassionate future for yourself. Here are five practical steps that might help move closer towards greater self-acceptance:

  1. Notice and name the feeling

  2. Curate your own culture

  3. Find your people

  4. Practise small, real-world acts of affirmation

  5. Talk about it with the right person

1. Notice and Name the Feeling

The critical inner voice thrives in the dark. The first and most powerful step is to shine a light on it.

When you notice a flicker of shame, a judgemental thought about another gay man, or the urge to minimise your identity, simply notice it.

Label it without judgement: "Ah, that's that old internalised shame talking." or "There's the voice of Section 28 again."

By naming it, you separate it from yourself.

It’s not you, it’s a learned pattern picked up from years of absorbing societies hateful messages. You don't have to fight it or believe it; you just have to notice it.

2. Curate Your Own Culture

For years, the culture we consumed either ignored us or maligned us. But that has massively changed of late.

Even if you don't live near a city with a big arts or cultural scene, with streaming services and online bookshops, you can actively seek out positive portrayals of gay men your age.

Watch films like All of Us Strangers or Supernova.

Read books by authors like Andrew Sean Greer or Alan Hollinghurst.

Listen to podcasts that discuss LGBTQ+ life beyond the club scene.

Consciously surrounding yourself with stories that reflect your reality in a positive light helps to overwrite the old, negative messages.

3. Find Your People (and Redefine 'Community')

Feeling disconnected is common, especially if you live outside a major city where the "scene" can feel invisible.

For men over 40, community isn't always about finding a big, formal group. It’s about intentionally creating your own ecosystem of connection, which might look different from one person to the next.

Navigating the Digital World with Intention

Let's be realistic: many online spaces for gay men, even those not explicitly for dating, carry a strong sexual current. The lines between friendship, community, and sexual connection can be blurry, and this can be frustrating if your primary goal is platonic. The most powerful tool you have here is clarity of intention. Before you open an app or a website, ask yourself: "What am I actually looking for right now?"

Is it a conversation with a peer? A walking companion? Someone to take trips with? A date? Or a sexual encounter? All are valid needs.

The difficulty arises from a mismatch between our intention and the space we're in.

Knowing your own goal allows you to navigate more effectively. You can state your intentions clearly (and non-judgmentally) in a profile, or simply use that clarity as your own internal filter, focusing your energy on the profiles and conversations that align with what you need, while letting the rest go without frustration.

Building Connection in Your Local World

In smaller towns or rural areas, your community might not be explicitly "LGBTQ+". It might mean finding connection in 'mainstream' spaces where your sexuality isn't the primary point of entry.

Joining a local ramblers' club, a photography group, a pub quiz team, or volunteering for a cause you believe in (like a local heritage trust or animal rescue) puts you shoulder-to-shoulder with people who share your passions. Here, connection is built on a shared activity first.

Over time, as friendships form, you can choose to be more open about your life (and partner(s)), building authentic connections on your own terms.

4. Practise Small, Real-World Acts of Affirmation

While internal work is key, small, real-world acts of self-acceptance can be incredibly powerful. This is about gently and safely bridging the gap between how you feel inside and how you act in the world. It doesn't have to be a grand gesture. You could go anywhere with this, but some immediate ideas that spring to my mind are:

  • Gently correcting someone who assumes your partner is a woman: "Actually, his name is David."

  • Leaving a book with a positive gay theme on your coffee table when friends are visiting.

  • Putting a photo of you and your partner on your phone lock screen.

  • Mentioning an LGBTQ+ event you went to in casual conversation.

  • Casually mentioning "My partner John and I are off to the garden centre" in conversation at the local shop.

  • Correcting someone who makes an assumption: "Actually, he is my partner, not my friend"

  • Leaving a book with a positive gay theme on your coffee table.

Each small act is a vote for your own authenticity. I get that this might sounds a bit corny but it can be a reliable and repeatable was of telling yourself "It's okay. I'm okay. I am safe. I am worthy of being seen."

5. Talk About It (With the Right Person)

Shame thrives in silence. Sharing what you're going through is one of the most powerful antidotes.

Sharing could start with a trusted friend, someone you know will listen without judgement. Hearing someone else say, "That makes perfect sense," can be incredibly liberating.

However, if these feelings are deep-rooted, persistent, and impacting your happiness and relationships, talking to a professional can be transformative.

A therapist who specialises in this area can provide a safe, confidential space to unpack these experiences without fear of judgement. This isn't about finding someone to "fix" you, but about having a skilled, compassionate guide to help you navigate your own path to healing.

Conclusion: A Life of Pride, Not Apology

Still with me? Great, let's wrap things up.

Internalised homophobia is not a personal failing. It is a scar left by a world that was, for a long time, unkind and unwelcoming.

It is a learned response to trauma, and just as it was learned, with patience and kindness, it can be unlearned.

Healing is a journey, not a destination. It’s a process of gently and consistently choosing compassion over criticism, connection over isolation, and authenticity over fear.

Be patient with yourself. You are undoing decades of conditioning. But with every conscious choice, you move closer to a life that feels fully and truly your own.

You have already navigated so much to be who you are today. You deserve to enjoy the peace and self-acceptance you have more than earned. You deserve a life lived with authentic pride, not quiet apology.

Healing these deep-seated patterns can be challenging to do alone. If you feel you'd benefit from a confidential, non-judgemental space to explore this further, I am an accredited member of the BACP, specialising in GSRD and trauma-informed care for men like you. You can view my availability to schedule a free, no-obligation 15-minute introductory call.

Frequently Asked Questions

Is it normal to feel shame about being gay even after coming out?

Yes, it is incredibly normal. Coming out is a huge step, but it doesn't instantly erase decades of societal messaging. Internalised homophobia often operates on a unconscious level. Many men feel a confusing mix of pride in being out and lingering, hard-to-shake feelings of shame or "otherness." This is a common and understandable part of the journey.

How can therapy help with internalised homophobia?

Therapy provides a safe, non-judgemental space to explore the roots of these feelings. A good therapist can help you:

  1. Identify the specific beliefs and thought patterns causing you distress.

  2. Understand how your personal history and societal events (like Section 28 or the AIDS crisis) have shaped you.

  3. Develop practical coping strategies and self-compassion techniques.

  4. Work through any related issues, like anxiety, depression, or relationship difficulties.

What is GSRD therapy?

GSRD stands for Gender, Sexuality, and Relationship Diversity. GSRD-informed therapy is an approach that affirms and understands the wide spectrum of human identity. A GSRD therapist, like myself, has undertaken specific training to work knowledgeably and respectfully with LGBTQ+ clients. It means I won't see your sexuality as a "problem" but as a core part of who you are, and I understand the unique challenges and strengths that come with navigating the world as a GSRD person.