Some LGBTQ youth look to aunts for emotional support, companionship and housing stability

Few members of Alexa Rodriguez’s family offered support when she came out as transgender. Not until years later, she said, did some warm to the idea given her rising profile as a trans community activist.

Rodriguez was born in El Salvador and directs a transgender advocacy agency in the Maryland, Virginia and Washington area. She said her openness about her identity has incurred puzzlement and scorn within the family. Her aunts, she said, “are very old-fashioned. There’s one who doesn’t respect me at all, and we get into fights every time we’re in the same room.”

But for others, it’s been a gift – especially for two young relatives she said have questioned their identity or struggled with coming out, both of whom Rodriguez said see her as “a second mom,” or auntie.

A recently published study by researchers at the University of California, Riverside, and Trinity University underscores the importance of aunts, aunties and tías, whether related by blood or bonds, in supporting LGBTQ youth who don’t necessarily feel supported by their parents.

These family members and so-called “othermothers,” the researchers say, can help buffer relationships between LGBTQ youth and their parents, serving as confidantes or role models and providing emotional support or even housing stability.

“Aunts can actively challenge the homophobia and transphobia that may occur in a youth’s natal home,” they wrote in their study, published in a journal of the American Sociological Association. “… The home is not always a sanctuary for queer and trans people. The aunt can infiltrate the borders of the home and be life-giving or lifesaving to queer and trans youth.”

'It's painful to see them struggling'

Brandon Robinson, an associate professor of gender and sexuality studies and the study’s co-principal investigator, said such relationships can help LGBTQ youth maintain good emotional and mental health.

“Aunts can be confidants, the people you come out to as you’re exploring your gender and sexuality,” they said. “Or they can provide housing support when you’re having an argument with your parents or just need to get away.”

Rodriguez, who came out as trans when she was 12, said the young relatives who have approached her don’t feel comfortable discussing things with their parents or anyone else in the extended family.

“I’ve always been open about myself, and I tell them they can talk to me anytime,” Rodriguez said. “They saw how family treated me, not being respectful with my name and my gender. I tell them, you don’t have to come out just because I did.”

One young relative who uses she/her pronouns has had relationships with both men and women but doesn’t yet feel safe coming out; the other, a distant young female relative who pursued a same-sex relationship, found her family resistant and after a year or two returned to dating men. She now has a child.

“It was confusing for the family to understand her going back and forth, but to me, I understood completely,” Rodriguez said. “It’s painful to see them struggling because of social pressures, but I support them and tell them, do what you need to.”

Role of aunts in LGBTQ support little studied

One in 10 young people aged 18 to 25 experiences housing instability in the U.S., Robinson said, and LGBTQ youth are estimated to comprise about 40% of that population.

Most housing instability studies among LGBTQ youth focus on those already unhoused and without regular shelter, they said, but little analysis had been done on the extended family networks that might play intervening roles.

That’s what led the researchers to survey 1,000 LGBTQ youth aged 16 to 19 in south Texas and Southern California’s Inland Empire about their family situations. They then interviewed 83 youth deemed most prone to housing instability – those indicating little or ambivalent support from their parents – and found 60% cited aunts or aunt-like relationships with women close to their families as important in making them feel supported.

The study was published last month in Socius.

The authors say the findings suggest researchers should seriously consider the importance of extended kin in the lives of LGBTQ youth, particularly those from other marginalized communities, for whom such relationships are often common and culturally ingrained.

These relationships offer advantages not found at home. For instance, parents are often invested in the gender and sexuality of their children in ways that an aunt or another relative might not be.

“Fathers might feel their own masculinity is partly bound up in making sure their sons are masculine and straight,” Robinson said. “Parents often feel that to be a good parent is to make sure their child is cisgender, straight and gender-conforming. Whereas an aunt might not, because they don’t feel it reflects anything about their own parenting or sexuality.”

The ways aunts support these youths – referred to as their “niblings,” the gender-neutral term for children of a sibling – can vary, from social media support to companionship to housing.

“Maybe the youths post something about LGBTQ issues on social media, and their aunts ‘like’ it,” Robinson said. “Their aunts might go to Pride with them or educate other family members about trans people and correct those who use incorrect pronouns.”

Aunts can prove especially important in giving LGBTQ youths the sense that they have a safety net, they said.

“A youth might think, 'If I need to leave, I know I can rely on my aunt,'” Robinson said. “That’s important because it allows the youth to navigate their parental home. Maybe they’ll be less afraid to tell their parents about their gender or sexuality because they know they won’t end up on the street or in a shelter. It can empower these youth if they anticipate their aunt will house them.”

'Othermothers' more common in some cultures

Such bonds for youth can include people without biological relationships but who have nonetheless formed close bonds, or what in Latino culture is called comadrisma.

Rodriguez, for example, said she’s also counseled the daughter of a longtime friend who is questioning her identity. The girl, who calls Rodriguez “Tía” – the Spanish term for aunt – confided that her parents resisted when she wanted to cut her hair short; her mom arguing that God had blessed her with long hair, while her father told her she would “look like a man.”

“I tell her, ‘It will grow back,’” Rodriguez said. “Kids might be exploring their identity or just a style, but when parents are not supportive children might make bad decisions that affect their future.”

The idea of extended kin is a central part of Black, Latino, Asian, Indigenous and low-income family life, the researchers said, and Black and Latino LGBTQ youth and adults are significantly more likely to have maternal family members who they feel instill resilience. These include sisters, aunts, grandmothers and so-called “othermothers.”

Additionally, Indigenous mothering networks often support families through trauma and pain endured through historical oppression, displacement and removal of children from their communities.

“Indigenous people view kinship in a different way from many other communities,” said Sarah Adams, co-creator of Cousins, a group for Two-Spirit Indigenous youth in Oklahoma. “You have this community that may not be biologically related but may be even closer. You feel this love, responsibility and honor to be connected.”

In Native American society, Two-Spirit refers to someone considered to have both a masculine and a feminine spirit. However, the term often encompasses more than gender identity, and tribal definitions can vary.

Cousins’ 2SLGBTQ youths are primarily mentored by other 2SLGBTQ aunties, including Adams, who they call Auntie Sarah. Most are not biological relationships.

“We want them to know there’s always space for them in our community,” Adams said. “It gives them a safety net from all kinds of things that could befall them. Maybe they’re in a hard space and so they can come to an auntie for help. Or we see that there’s a change, or a distance, and we can lean in.”

It’s a tricky balance, Adams said; while she prefers to work in cooperation with families, she’s also aware of the high suicidality rates among LGBTQ youth who don’t feel supported.

“There’s so much fallout when kids don’t feel loved and supported by their families,” she said.