Conversion Therapy Is a Family Affair: ‘I Wanted My Family to Love Me Instead of Being Ashamed of Me’ (Exclusive)

**Author Reflects on Childhood Trauma in New Novel ‘The Outer Country’**

Davin Malasarn’s journey to understanding his childhood experiences is the focus of his upcoming novel, ‘The Outer Country’. A Thai monk’s conversion ceremony, which he underwent as a child, has haunted him for years, propelling him to explore not only his past but also the wider implications of conversion therapy on LGBTQIA+ youth today.

Malasarn’s initiation into the ceremony began when he was in primary school. He recalls a moment when his aunt discovered him dancing, with a blanket tied around his waist. In an attempt to connect, she casually inquired if he wanted to be a girl. Even as a child, he felt the pressure of societal expectations around gender, yet he hesitated and ultimately answered affirmatively, not fully grasping the weight of that moment. “I embraced my identity, if only for a moment,” he reflects, acknowledging that the encounter would later have profound repercussions for his mental health and self-perception.

Shortly after this incident, Malasarn’s aunt brought a monk to their home to perform a ritual in an apparent effort to “help” him. With his mother at work, the ceremony unfolded in secrecy in the family’s dining room. The monk engaged in chanting, sprinkling holy water, and used a paper doll, which was eventually burned. Although Malasarn was not physically harmed, he felt an overwhelming sense of dread connected to the ceremony, leaving him confused and terrified without a clear understanding of why it had occurred.

In the years that followed, Malasarn grappled with anxiety that manifested physically. Vomiting became a daily occurrence for him, particularly in situations where he faced scrutiny or attention. “I do it when I get nervous,” he would tell his mother, who was as perplexed as he was about his unexplained ailment. This discomfort persisted until his adolescent years, culminating in several visits to doctors who failed to identify any medical issues.

As Malasarn entered high school, he began to internalise his struggles, coming to terms with what he perceived as mental illness. It was a time when he also accepted his sexual orientation—recognising that the monk’s ceremony had done little to alter who he was. Unfortunately, his personal experience is mirrored by the documented failures of conversion therapy practices in general.

Conversion therapy, often referred to with euphemisms like “reparative therapy” or “gender identity change efforts,” has been widely discredited. A report from The Trevor Project identified over 1,300 practitioners of such programmes in the US, with many lacking professional credentials. The American Psychological Association further stated that these attempts often result in serious mental health repercussions, including depression and suicidal thoughts. Works like Malasarn’s novel and Garrard Conley’s ‘Boy Erased’ expose the lasting harm inflicted by these practices.

The recent ruling by the US Supreme Court that dismantled Colorado’s ban on conversion therapy has reignited concerns for LGBTQIA+ advocates. The court sided with therapist Kaley Chiles, asserting her right to provide such therapy under the First Amendment. However, dissenting Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson pointedly emphasised that the majority failed to consider the vulnerable context in which such therapy impacts minors.

Malasarn’s reflections underline the belief that any attempt to coerce an individual into rejecting their identity can inflict deep and lasting wounds. He argues that the responsibility rests heavily on families to support their children rather than subject them to further trauma. “I would have chosen to be straight if asked as a child,” he admits, citing his desire for familial acceptance over self-actualisation.

Through ‘The Outer Country’, Malasarn hopes to shed light on the psychological scars left by conversion therapy and the urgent need for legal protections for queer youth. He envisions a future where proper support could hasten recovery, contrasting sharply with his own experience of familial and societal rejection.

As the book’s publication date approaches, Malasarn’s story stands as a testament to resilience in the face of childhood trauma, serving as both a personal narrative as well as a broader commentary on the need for compassion and understanding towards those navigating their identity. ‘The Outer Country’ is set to hit shelves on May 5 and promises to resonate with many who have faced similar struggles in their own lives.