• Suicide has a devastating impact on families, friends, and whole communities.

  • An estimated 65,000 Australians make a suicide attempt every year

  • In 2022, more than 3,200 Australians died by suicide, an average of 9 per day, which is more than double the road toll

The higher risk of suicide among LGBTQ+ individuals, including suicidal ideation and attempts, is well-documented. (See stats here.) However, the rates are even higher for LGBTQ+ people from faith backgrounds. But why?

From the age of 12, I knew I was Gay but being a Christian, I thought I was doomed to hell. This was my worst nightmare. I prayed to God to take away the Gay, but he didn’t. For about 35 years I would wake up in thunderstorms, from a sweat filled terror thinking that Jesus was returning, and I was going to hell. There seemed no way to escape from my feelings. I thought God hated me so much that I was doomed. I cried and prayed so many times for God to change me. To the point death looked more appealing than life. (Pentecostal Pete, 49)

LGBTQ+ people of faith not only grapple with issues common to all LGBTQ+ individuals—such as resolving their sexuality or gender identity, coming out, and learning to live authentically in a largely heteronormative world—but they face these challenges with greater intensity.

After leaving my third year of reparative ex-gay therapy, I had just attempted suicide for the second time. My car had been written off in the crash my back and neck hurt and with the many bruises and my wrists were covered with scars from the self-harm. My future was hopeless. (Glenn, 20)

Additionally, they confront unique struggles, making them one of the most vulnerable groups in our community.

The Writing Themselves In 3 (WTi3) study, which interviewed 3,134 LGBTQ+ young people aged 14-21, offers stark insights. When religion was mentioned, the key findings revealed that LGBTQ+ youth from religious backgrounds are:

  • More likely to feel guilt or shame about their same-sex attraction (SSA).
  • More likely to face social exclusion or tolerate homophobic language from friends.
  • More likely to report homophobic abuse at home.
  • More likely to feel unsafe in their home environments.
  • Less likely to receive support from family members, teachers, or counsellors when disclosing their SSA.
  • More likely to experience self-harm, suicidal thoughts, or attempts.

What’s particularly heartbreaking is that, according to WTi3, the places where young Christian LGBTQ+ individuals should feel safest—churches, Christian homes, schools, and among friends—are often the very environments where harm occurs.

I was ashamed of my sexuality and tried to suppress who I am after reading articles about lesbians and gay men getting married and “being free of their problems” and the like. I was raised a catholic, went to church very often and my involvement in a separate evangelical church wasn’t nice. I was subjected to a lot of homophobia when I did come out. I was compared to adulterers and liars by one leader, told to stop being a ‘deviant’ and reconcile with God by another, and generally treated with suspicion by people who had been my friends. For the last five years I have suffered depression due to these problems and also other family and school problems, and have been on the verge of suicide many times. (Julie, 15)

In contrast, a review of 850 research papers concluded that individuals with strong religious involvement generally have better mental health outcomes, including higher levels of life satisfaction, happiness, and less depression and suicide.

However, for LGBTQ+ people—especially those in the closet or wrestling with unresolved internal conflicts—it’s the exact opposite. For them, the clash between faith and identity can become unbearable, often leading to severe mental health struggles or even suicide.

Once I got to high school, I pretty much suppressed who I was and started a big long spiral downhill into depression. Many thoughts and attempts to kill myself through high school, and this fear hanging over my head of being rejected by everyone in my church and anyone i had anything to do with. I began to explore my sexuality physically with guys, but it was very unfulfilling, and further tearing me up about who I was. (John, 27)

The tragic truth is, we will never know the full toll of lives lost to the internal conflict between faith and sexuality, or the trauma caused by trying to “change” one’s sexual orientation through prayer, counselling, or so-called conversion “therapy”. The cost remains uncountable for several reasons:

  1. When people leave or are expelled from churches, they are often seen as “giving in” to their “sin.” The ensuing shame and sense of failure make it unlikely they’ll ever speak of their experiences.
  2. When a young person takes their life, there is no checkbox on a coroner’s form for “internal conflict between faith and sexuality.” Even when their struggles are well-known, this deeply personal pain remains hidden.
  3. Some individuals leave suicide notes (read Jack McIntyres here) explaining why they took their own lives, but families—especially Christian ones—often keep such notes private due to the stigma surrounding both suicide and LGBTQ+ identity.
  4. Pastors and youth leaders may know the truth through counselling sessions, but they often remain silent, fearing shame and controversy.
  5. Sometimes, deaths are not recorded as suicides at all—car accidents, drownings, or other incidents may be seen as tragic accidents rather than intentional acts.

You can help by supporting the work of ABBI and raising awareness of the unique challenges faced by LGBTQ+ people of faith. Details HERE.

Want to read more: KILLING US – DRIVING US CRAZY

If you or someone you know is at risk of self-harm, or otherwise in need of crisis support, please call Lifeline Australia on 13 11 14, or the Suicide Call Back Service on 1 300 659 467.