'Not always a therapy session': Quebec campaign shares dangers of conversion therapy

Throughout her adolescence, Sandra Carbone prayed to all the saints.

She wanted to be "cured" of her homosexuality: her father, a pastor, preached that he could "cure" gays through prayer at his church and on television.

"As an adult, I came to understand that there was nothing to heal," says the Montrealer of this painful learning experience.

Although illegal, conversion therapies are still practiced in Quebec, "disguised and hidden under the guise of medical and mental health care, or behind religious authorities," says Fondation Émergence, which launched a campaign called Put an End to conversion practices.

The organization reiterates that, until very recently, homosexual and transgender people were considered mentally ill.

Last year, Canada criminalized conversion therapy, which aims to change the sexual orientation or gender identity of people in the LGBTQ2S+ community.

Quebec, Ontario, Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island have also legislated in this area.

"Unfortunately, the law is not retroactive," says Julien Rougerie, program officer with Fondation Émergence. "So only therapies that took place since January 2022 can be denounced as criminal. People who have experienced it before have no recourse on that side."

According to the SAVIE-LGBTQ research project, the largest of its kind in Quebec, 25 per cent of LGBTQ2S+ community members have experienced conversion efforts in their lifetime, whether it was therapy or simply being the target of comments urging them to adopt a gender identity or sexuality deemed "traditional."

Nearly one in two people who undergo some form of conversion treatment initiates the process voluntarily, notes UQAM sexologist Martin Blais, co-director of the SAVIE-LGBTQ project.

"They consent to these practices without really knowing what it involves, but they do it to please their entourage and above all, to get better," he explains. "The problem is that we make them associate getting better with denying how they feel and who they are."

"For many LGBT people, there is a phase of denial, shame, rejection," Rougerie agrees. "At that point, conversion therapy can be appealing. You think, 'maybe there's someone out there who can correct this aspect of me that I don't respect.'"

CHOOSING HAPPINESS

Sandra Carbone is publicly testifying about her experience as part of the campaign.

"I've seen all the damage it's done to me, to people in the community who come to the church for comfort, only to be shown the door. We're welcome to come back, but only if we become heterosexual," says Carbone, who now has two children with her partner.

The day she told her family that she was gay, Carbone lost contact with them. Years later, she still suffers from it, although she has come to understand that there is nothing unhealthy or abnormal about her.

"When your whole environment is organized to make you doubt yourself, when you are blamed for choosing your homosexuality, which I did not choose," says the survivor. "One day, I chose to be happy."

CONSEQUENCES

Conversion therapies often look like perfectly normal therapies, and that's what makes them pernicious, says Martin Blais.

"They are difficult to detect because they rely on medical, pharmacological, psychological or spiritual support techniques," he explains. "But they divert the practice to destructive ends for the people who undergo them."

The sexologist does not hesitate to describe the victims of conversion therapies as "survivors" because of the negative and long-term impacts of these practices which, according to him, aim to "destroy their vision of themselves" to meet the expectations of those around them.

These practices have serious consequences for those who undergo them: anxiety disorders, post-traumatic stress, relational and sexual difficulties, self-destructive behaviours, suicidal thoughts and addictions, among other issues.

"Without adequate affirmative therapeutic support, survivors of conversion therapy are exposed to many difficulties, in addition to having low self-esteem," says Blais.

Blais says recent studies have shown that, without proper care in the aftermath of conversion therapy, victims' lives can be shortened by an average of a year and a half.

THE CAMPAIGN

Fondation Émergence's campaign aims to improve public knowledge about conversion therapies and their consequences, as well as equip intervention and education networks with the tools to recognize and prevent them.

The initiative is funded by the Quebec government's Bureau de lutte contre l'homophobie et la transphobie (fight against homophobia and transophobia program) and Canada's Department of Justice.

The organizations Éducaloi, Justice Pro Bono and the Research Chair on Sexual Diversity and UQAM's research chair on sexual diversity and gender plurality contributed to the campaign, which includes an informative pamphlet, a short film, a four-episode podcast series, and training for health and education workers as well as police.

"It's important to train people to be aware of conversion therapy," says Rougerie. "It's not always a therapy session -- it could be a doctor trying to discourage a trans patient from reaffirming their gender. In order to denounce, people need to be aware that this is criminal."

On its website, Éducaloi says it's possible to report illegal conversion therapy to the police or a professional order to which the person conducting the therapy is attached. It's also possible to file a complaint with the Commission des droits de la personne et des droits de la jeunesse, as well as to request compensation through Quebec's crime victims compensation program.

Over 20 countries worldwide have adopted legislation to ban sexual conversion practices.

This report by The Canadian Press was first published in French on March 11, 2023.