Researchers sharpen their strategies for publishing on LGBTQ+ topics

When Kimberly F. Balsam, PhD, was planning her dissertation research in the late 1990s, colleagues warned that she shouldn’t pursue her intended focus on LGBTQ+ populations.

“That’s not going to be a good career move—you won’t get a job,” they told Balsam, now a professor of clinical psychology at Palo Alto University. 

In the face of pushback—including overly harsh criticism and multiple rejections from peer-reviewed journals—Balsam forged ahead anyway, becoming a prominent researcher in the emerging field of LGBTQ+ psychology. She developed widely used measures of minority stress, resilience, and intersectionality, and she was one of the first researchers to publish articles in mainstream psychology journals on LGBTQ+ topics, including on families and intimate relationships, trauma, and mental health (see, for example, Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology, Vol. 73, No. 3, 2005opens in new window; Journal of Abnormal Psychology, Vol. 114, No. 3, 2005opens in new window; Developmental Psychology, Vol. 44, No. 1, 2008opens in new window).

Despite the challenges of conducting research in a stigmatized area, the benefits of doing LGBTQ+ research have outweighed the costs, Balsam said. “It’s been incredibly rewarding to contribute to the scientific knowledge base on this population and to challenge myths and stereotypes with actual data.” 

But she realizes that challenges persist. While there is much more openness and opportunity to publish in this area than there was 20 years ago, LBGTQ+ research remains vulnerable to public, academic, and political scrutiny. LGBTQ+ researchers are still more likely than non-LGBTQ+ researchers to face critiques about their sampling and methodology (see Combatting common critiques of LBGTQ+ research for more), and younger researchers face the possibility that if they can’t get their research published, it may harm their chances of getting a job, a promotion, or tenure. They may also internalize this criticism and decide not to move forward with research plans, assuming their work will be rejected. 

This situation is amplified in a political climate that is growing far more restrictive, said M. Paz Galupo, PhD, the Audre Lorde Distinguished Professor of Sexual Health & Education at Washington University in St. Louis, Missouri, and editor of the APA journal Psychology of Sexual Orientation and Gender Diversity. President Trump, in tandem with Project 2025—the Heritage Foundation’s plans to shrink and reshape the federal government in fundamental areas including workers’ rights, women’s rights, and LGBTQ+ rights—are delivering on promises to target DEI (diversity, equity, and inclusion) efforts for elimination in the federal government, schools, and universities; to remove legal protections against discrimination based on sexual orientation and gender identity (SOGD); and to restructure the National Institutes of Health in line with the conservative agenda. 

These are big causes for concern about the future of SOGD and other research on minoritized populations and mean that LGBTQ+ psychological researchers must be extra vigilant about how they describe and frame their research, said Galupo. 

“There is a unique conversation happening now in our community about how to ensure that our research is not misinterpreted or used in ways that limit our rights or our ability to receive evidence-based care,” they said, “and about our responsibility in thinking about that.” 

Thankfully, there is growing support for LGBTQ+ research and researchers, as well. There are many more journals devoted to LGBTQ+ issues, more LGBTQ+ researchers on editorial boards, state and local offices devoted to LGBTQ+ health and research, and a strong global network of LGBTQ+ researchers eager to mentor students and early career psychologists. A new APA resource offers additional guidance: the Sexual Orientation and Gender Diversity Research Manuscript Writing Guide, a collaborative venture by members of Division 44 (Society for the Psychology of Sexual Orientation and Gender Diversity) and headed by Division 44 science committee chair Cindy Veldhuis, PhD, who is an assistant professor in Northwestern University’s Department of Medical Social Sciences. The guide describes common issues that LGBTQ+ psychology researchers face in gaining institutional support for research proposals and getting published and ideas on how to overcome those obstacles. 

Veldhuis and others suggest the following:

Consider the bigger picture. Before starting your research, become familiar with the literature on the specific LGBTQ+ population you’ll be working with, as well as on the specific societal and cultural issues they are facing, Balsam advised.

“Knowing about one subpopulation doesn’t mean you know about another,” she said. Gaining this knowledge is especially important for researchers who do not identify as LGBTQ+, she added. “It’s important to incorporate LGBTQ+ cultural competence and humility in all stages of the research and writing process.”

When you start to conceptualize and write up your study, think about what you want to project and who you want to reach, Balsam added. What do you want the “story” of your research to say? What audience do you want to reach with your findings? How will your research be seen or used by others? How can your research best serve the LGBTQ+ community? If your study focuses on couples where one partner is trans and the other is cisgender, for example, you could focus your article on the trans person’s experience in the relationship, the cisgender person’s experience, or on how clinicians could best work with these couples, to name a few possibilities.

Also, consider how your choices could be interpreted by reviewers and other critical eyes and adjust your writing accordingly, Balsam recommended. One powerful way to do that is to anticipate ways that your research may be misinterpreted and to proactively address those points in the discussion section (see Combatting common critiques of LBGTQ+ research).

Choose your venues deliberately. Choosing journals to pitch to—those that publish primarily LGBTQ+ research or mainstream journals—depends on your research goals and values. For instance, if it’s important to you to become known as a trauma researcher, consider pitching to a mainstream trauma journal, said Galupo. If your intention is to speak specifically to the needs of a particular LGBTQ+ subpopulation, a specialized LGBTQ+ journal might be the way to go.

In general, the Division 44 guide recommends thinking about “why the editor and reviewers should be interested in the article and make a brief ‘pitch’ as to the significance of the article, the fit for the journal, why it would interest the journal’s readership writ large, and the broader community, societal, and clinical implications of the article.” To consolidate your case, write a strong cover letter that briefly delineates these points, Veldhuis added.

Also key is reading sample articles from your top journal picks to get a feel for their language and culture, said Galupo. If you’re writing for an LGBTQ+ journal, for example, you probably don’t need to define identity terms like SOGD, LGBTQ+, and cisgender. But for mainstream journals, it’s best to define such terms as well as basic concepts in the field like health disparities and minority stressors, since reviewers and readers might be unfamiliar with them.

Galupo also recommended looking at the journal’s editorial board since they will be reviewing your manuscript. If you’re not familiar with the names, “you’re probably not operating in the same theoretical framework as that journal,” they said.

Balance scientific and community concerns. While conducting good science is paramount, the ongoing reality of anti-LGBTQ+ bias and violence means that many LGBTQ+ researchers work from a social justice and advocacy framework, with a preference for community-based work that accurately captures community needs and issues.

“I’m always thinking about how to center the voices of the TNB [trans and nonbinary] community, while not perpetuating stereotypes or pathologizing TNB people,” said Em Matsuno, PhD, an assistant professor at Arizona State University whose EmPowerment Labopens in new window studies ways to promote the health and wellness of trans and nonbinary people. Matsuno achieves this by partnering with TNB community organizations and seeking TNB community feedback on their research projects, they said.

Researchers also need to be aware that LGBTQ+ participants might ask to have their voices heard in ways that are not within the framework of your study. If that is the case, think creatively about how to stay faithful to your scientific mission while addressing community concerns as much as possible, including in the way you write up the study, said Balsam. 

“You have to find a way to balance scientific aims with community input, relationships, and good will,” she said.

Include positionality statements and team diversity. Consider adding positionality statements—which briefly note researchers’ identities and how they relate to the topic and to participants’ identities—to support a study’s credibility and transparency. These statements can take a variety of forms depending on an author’s comfort level and intentions and can be individual or team statements (see, for example, APA’s standards on research transparency and disclosures).

Learn to love reviews. If your manuscript returns from review with a pile of comments, reply in an even-handed way, Matsuno recommended. “Even when it doesn’t feel like it, reviewers usually have the good intentions of trying to strengthen your manuscript,” they said. “They are reading your paper from a different perspective and may catch things that other readers might misunderstand as well.”

When your manuscript comes back from review, read the comments once, then set it aside for a week, Galupo suggested. “When you come back to it, it's usually not nearly as bad as you think it was,” they said. And, when you do respond, do so in a conversational, collegial manner: Reviewers will appreciate your tone, and it helps to build rapport.

Don’t be alarmed if your manuscript is rejected, either, underscored Cory Cascalheira, PhD, a research fellow at the VA Puget Sound Health Care System who studies mental health stressors among LGBTQ+ veterans. Due to lifetime experiences of bias, LGBTQ+ researchers may be more sensitive to rejection than others. “But rejections are just part of the scientific process,” he said. “So, get your manuscripts out there early and often.”

Grow a mentorship network. Finding mentors to guide you can turbo-charge your publication efforts, Cascalheira added. If you want to work alongside a more established researcher, for example, you could offer to help analyze their data. “Most professors I've worked with have so much data, they don’t know what to do with it all,” he said. “I didn’t know that when I first started, and I wish I had known that from day one.”

Cascalheira also signed up for a free year-long LGBTQ+ graduate student mentoring program offered by the APAGS Committee on Sexual Orientation and Gender Diversity. There, he talked with a mentor about the best journals to pitch to and about his research program—"specifically about how to tell a research story with my articles in ways that set me up well for job talks in the future,” he said.

Consider new research avenues. A lot of LGBTQ+ research centers on the minority stress model—the theory that high levels of stress related to stigma and discrimination put minority populations at greater risk for poor physical and mental health outcomes than others.

That model remains an important paradigm and one that tends to get funded. But Galupo also encouraged researchers to stretch their vision and study other areas that need exploration, such as the positive aspects of having an LGBTQ+ identity.

“There is some really important work happening right now that documents the joy and healing and liberation of our communities,” said Galupo. While funding needs to catch up with this trend, “we are not documenting our full humanity if we only talk about it from a disparities perspective.”

Also in need of more investigation are LGBTQ+ mental health challenges at the clinical, structural, and societal levels, including in the areas of training, prevention, and intervention, said Balsam. In addition, more work is needed to understand the mechanisms of health and mental health challenges among LGBTQ+ women, since far more is known about LGBTQ+ men’s mental health than LGBTQ+ women's, Veldhuis said.

Think big. Finally, be bold in your research efforts, said Cascalheira. While it’s common for students and early career psychologists to harbor self-doubt—a condition that can be amplified among LGBTQ+ psychologists and in the current political climate—face those fears and have confidence that your research will shed new insight on the human condition. Don’t be afraid to pitch to top-tier journals, either, especially if you’ve done your homework and your research is sound.

“The important thing is to get your work out there,” he said. “Practice courage and let other LGBTQ+ researchers help you move forward with your science. There's a lot of work to be done, and there’s a lot of room at the table.”