In 1899, a German psychiatrist made a bold claim: He had turned a gay man straight. So opens an article on the History.com website titled “Gay Conversion Therapy’s Disturbing 19th-Century Origins”.
Despite its name, conversion “therapy” has never been about healing. Since the 19th century, its purpose has been to force compliance with heterosexual and cisgender norms.
Instead of recognizing sexual orientation and gender identity as natural variations of human diversity – not conditions to be cured, corrected, or suppressed - long-standing assumptions framed being gay or transgender as a sign of pathology, moral failure or trauma.
Although such assumptions have been scientifically discredited for decades and deemed harmful by every major mental health organization, conversion therapy continues to shape policies, impact families, and influence therapies that exist today.
From 1899 through the 1960s, conversion therapy included testicle transplants, electroshock, lobotomies, and chemical castration – often performed without subjects’ consent.
When consent was obtained, it was often because a person faced coercive threats. In 1952, when homosexual acts were illegal in Britain, mathematician Alan Turing – whose codebreaking helped defeat the Nazis – was convicted of “gross indecency” and forced to choose between prison and chemical castration.
He chose chemical castration so that he could continue his work. His groundbreaking work laid the foundations of modern computing and AI, but Turing died labeled a criminal. Not until 2013 was a posthumous royal pardon issued.
Turing’s case was exceptional only in its recognition. Hundreds of thousands of others subjected to conversion therapy have received no apology – many instead experiencing suicidality, PTSD symptoms, profound shame and social isolation.
As medicine abandoned conversion therapy, it did not disappear – it relocated. What once was framed as a psychiatric intervention has been repackaged as moral or spiritual correction. Doctors were replaced by pastors, counselors, or parents. The language softened; the coercion did not.
Today, many youths in America are especially helpless against the application of conversion therapy: 27% of LGBTQ youths live in states with no protections, and 14% live in states that actually block local governments, such as towns or boroughs, from putting laws in place to protect minors.
While Illinois has protections in place for youths who seek counseling from licensed healthcare providers, like all states, there are no such protections in place from religious providers. These numbers make clear that conversion therapy is not a relic – it is ongoing.
In October, the Supreme Court heard arguments in Chiles v. Salazar, a challenge to Colorado’s ban on conversion therapy for minors. A licensed counselor claims the law violates her First Amendment rights by restricting what she can say in therapy. Colorado counters that the law regulates professional conduct, not speech, and protects children from demonstrable harm. The Court’s decision could determine how far states may go in shielding minors from conversion practices.
Consider these children whose lives were impacted by conversion therapy.
Adam Trimmer, whose experience was profiled on CBS Sunday Morning (2018), attempted suicide after being rejected by family and encouraged to undergo “healing from homosexuality”. Trimmer asserted that the therapy and rejection intensified his self-loathing and hopelessness.
In the memoir Boy Erased (2016) – movie by same title (2018) – Garrard Conley recounts his experience in a conversion therapy program at age 19. Conley describes shaming, fear-based, and coercive practices at a ministry-run program, which caused deep emotional distress, family estrangement, loss of faith, and near-suicidal despair before he left.
Michael Ferguson, Ben Unger, Chaim Levin, and others sued JONAH (Jews Offering New Alternatives to Homosexuality), alleging that the organization used coercive, harmful practices and falsely claimed it could “cure” homosexuality. A New Jersey jury found JONAH liable for consumer fraud in 2015.
Kimberly Shappley was an evangelical Christian when her child, Joseph, was born. At age 3, her child asserted a female gender. After reading about conversion therapy, Shappley spent the next year trying to suppress her child’s behavior through timeouts and spankings. One evening, she overheard her child praying aloud, asking God to take “Joseph” home to be with Jesus and never bring him back. Hearing her child pray for death, Shappley decided she would rather have a trans child than a dead one. She immersed herself in learning about transgender identity and ultimately chose affirmation over coercion, recognizing that her child was not broken – and never had been.
Over the years, conversion therapy has been rebranded under many names – aversion therapy, reparative therapy, and sexual orientation change efforts (SOCE), among others – all with the same harmful intent. Within churches, these practices may sound even more benign, often labeled as pastoral or biblical counseling. The danger lies not in the terminology, but in the harm inflicted.
If someone you love has survived conversion therapy, support begins with belief and affirmation. Encourage trauma-informed, LGBTQ-affirming care, and if your loved one is searching for a faith community, help locate one that is overtly affirming. In moments of crisis, connect them with resources such as The Trevor Project, Trans Lifeline, or the LGBT National Help Center.
LGBTQ people deserve to live as their authentic selves, not perform identities to earn love or belonging. Ending conversion therapy begins by recognizing that coercion has no place in care, faith, or family – and that compassion and affirmation are the only paths that protect life and dignity.
For more information or to be an ally, contact PFLAG Sauk Valley at pflagsaukvalley@gmail.com or check us out on Facebook. Help us lead with love.
Sarah Schlegel is the president of PFLAG Sauk Valley.
