Every year on May 17, people around the world recognize the International Day Against Homophobia, Transphobia, and Biphobia — or IDAHOBIT for short. And while the acronym sounds a little bit like a droid from Star Wars, the reason behind the day is actually deeply important.
May 17 marks the anniversary of the World Health Organization removing homosexuality from the International Classification of Diseases in 1990.
Nineteen. Ninety. Not ancient history. Not “back in the day.” Within the clear memories of many of our adult lifetimes. And I think that matters for veterinary medicine to sit with for a minute. Just one hot little minute.
Because healthcare professions like ours love to think of ourselves as compassionate, progressive, and science-driven. But historically? Medicine has not always been safe for LGBTQ+ humans. Sometimes medicine was the thing causing the harm. That legacy doesn’t just disappear because we added rainbow logos to social media profiles every June. And honestly, this is why some of the current conversations around mental health in veterinary medicine feel incomplete to me.
We talk about burnout constantly. Compassion fatigue. Stress. Workload. Debt. Staffing shortages. Emotional exhaustion. All real. All important. But we rarely talk about the exhaustion that comes from constantly assessing whether it is safe to exist as yourself at work. Can I mention my partner? Should I correct someone about my pronouns? Will this become “a thing” if I speak up? Am I safe with this team? Will this impact opportunities for me later? Do I belong here, or am I just tolerated here?
That kind of hypervigilance is exhausting. And no amount of pizza parties, yoga apps, “wellness weeks,” or therapy coloring books in the breakroom can offset an environment where people feel like they have to self-edit all day long. You cannot wellness your way out of exclusion. And before someone inevitably says, “But we’re nice here in vetmed!” let’s lovingly acknowledge something together: Being nice and being psychologically safe are not the same thing.
A clinic can be friendly and still make LGBTQ+ team members feel isolated. A leader can “mean well” and still create an environment where people don’t feel safe speaking honestly. A hospital can say they support mental health while unintentionally reinforcing cultures where people feel invisible, tokenized, or quietly othered. Because policies alone do not create safety. People do. Leadership behavior does. Culture does. And often, exclusion in veterinary medicine does not look like dramatic discrimination. It looks subtle.
It looks like:
• assuming everyone is straight until told otherwise
• making “harmless” jokes that quietly land like bricks
• treating pronouns like a debate instead of basic respect
• asking marginalized people to endlessly educate everyone else
• confusing silence with inclusion
• assuming “we all love animals” automatically makes us emotionally safe humans
Spoiler alert: it does not. Loving animals is wonderful. But it is not a substitute for self-awareness, empathy, or inclusive leadership. And here’s the thing I wish more workplaces understood: Belonging is not extra credit wellness work. It is foundational infrastructure for mental health. People regulate better when they feel safe. Teams communicate better when people trust they can be honest. Feedback works better when people are not operating from fear.
Humans stay longer where they feel like they can exhale. That is not “identity politics.” That is nervous system science.
So maybe IDAHOBIT is not just a day about awareness. Maybe it is an invitation to ask harder questions. Where are we unintentionally excluding people while claiming to support wellbeing? Who on our teams is spending energy surviving dynamics others never even notice? What would change in veterinary medicine if belonging was treated as essential instead of optional? Because I don’t think people are burned out simply because they care too much. I think a lot of people are burned out because they are carrying the additional weight of trying to belong while simultaneously protecting themselves. And that is heavy.
So this month, during Mental Health Awareness Month, maybe the goal is not just “more wellness.” Maybe the goal is building teams where people feel safe enough to be human. And honestly? That feels like a much better place to start.
Blog content written by: Stephanie Goss
