Public debates about children and LGBTQ+ issues tend to focus on the same handful of targets — drag performances, library books, inclusive sex education, and which bathrooms transgender students should use. Some go so far as to call any exposure of children to LGBTQ+ people or issues “grooming.” The implication is that LGBTQ+ people — and LGBTQ+ children — are the threat. But the children most at risk are not in danger because of which bathroom they share. They are in danger because of the adults in their lives who fail to protect them.
Grooming has a real definition. It is a pattern of deliberate behavior by which predators identify vulnerable children, earn their trust, separate them from support systems, and create conditions for abuse. It is methodical, and it happens most easily when adults aren’t paying attention to it.
Vulnerability Is the Variable
Research consistently shows that LGBTQ+ people report childhood sexual abuse at significantly higher rates than their peers. That disparity isn’t explained by sexual orientation or gender identity. It’s explained by the circumstances many LGBTQ+ young people grow up experiencing — family rejection, bullying, social isolation, and being made to feel unwelcome for who they are.
Too often, the very institutions meant to support, educate, and build community for children and families instead create the conditions in which the most vulnerable young people are harmed — including those made vulnerable by their gender identity or sexual orientation.
What Institutions Got Wrong
For decades, many institutions have treated LGBTQ+ identity as a problem — some schools have been more focused on policing gender expression than on stopping the harassment those students faced, some religious institutions have treated a child’s identity as a spiritual crisis while missing what was actually being done to them, and foster care systems, group homes, and psychiatric facilities have failed to protect the LGBTQ+ youth disproportionately in their care. When a child learns that the adults in their life don’t understand them and can’t be trusted to respect and support who they are, that child is much easier to exploit. Institutions that reinforce that lesson have failed at their duty to keep all children safe.
The Role of Shame in Religious Settings
For many LGBTQ+ survivors, certain religious institutions are a significant part of their story. A child raised to believe that a fundamental part of who they are is sinful or shameful learns not to tell the truth, not to trust their own instincts, and to stay silent rather than risk rejection. When an institution teaches a child that love and acceptance depend on hiding who they are, it strips the child of their voice and their safety. In abuse cases involving these institutions, survivors consistently describe cultures built on deference to authority, pressure to change, and silence — conditions that made disclosure that much more difficult.
Foster Care and the Exploitation Pipeline
Research from the Williams Institute at UCLA School of Law documents what advocates have known for years: LGBTQ+ youth are overrepresented in foster care and among young people experiencing homelessness and face an elevated risk of trafficking and commercial sexual exploitation. In Los Angeles County alone, roughly 19% of youth in out-of-home care identify as LGBTQ. Among youth served by homeless youth providers nationally, LGBTQ+ young people make up between 30% and 43% of clients — far exceeding their share of the general population. Family rejection on the basis of sexual orientation or gender identity is the most frequently cited factor contributing to homelessness.
LGBTQ+ youth in foster care also report being treated worse by the child welfare system, experience a higher number of placements, and are more likely to be placed in group homes — conditions that compound isolation and vulnerability to exploitation.
Family rejection can lead to housing instability, foster care involvement, or homelessness — and each of these failures compounds the next, increasing a young person’s exposure to people and situations that place them at risk.
When the Abuse Doesn’t Fit the Narrative
Same-sex abuse is consistently underreported and underrecognized – whether the perpetrator is an adult or another child. A boy abused by another male may not identify what happened as abuse or may fear that disclosing it raises questions about his own sexuality. A girl abused by another female faces a different kind of disbelief. These dynamics leave survivors without language for their experience — and without confidence that coming forward is a safe option.
This is not only a problem for LGBTQ+ survivors. Many heterosexual survivors of same-sex abuse carry the same silence, shaped by shame, confusion, stigma, and the fear of being misunderstood. The common thread is not identity. It is an experience that doesn’t fit the story institutions and communities expect to hear — and the resulting failure to listen.
Where Abuse Happens — and Who Can Be Held Accountable
Childhood sexual abuse doesn’t happen in a vacuum. It happens in institutions — schools, churches, mentorship programs, group homes, psychiatric facilities, residential treatment centers, and other settings where children are placed in the care of those who are charged with protecting them. In many of these settings, LGBTQ+ youth are disproportionately present and disproportionately at risk.
California law allows survivors to pursue civil claims against the institutions responsible for that abuse — not just the individual who caused harm, but the organizations that enabled it, ignored warning signs, or created the conditions that made it possible.
LGBTQ+ Survivors Belong in This Conversation
LGBTQ+ survivors have always been part of the story of childhood sexual abuse but are too often missing from the way that story gets told. They are pushed out of these conversations by the myth that LGBTQ+ identity is itself a product of abuse, or by institutions that have long pretended LGBTQ+ children didn’t exist at all.
Survivors who don’t feel seen, understood, or supported are less likely to feel that coming forward is possible, or that legal accountability is an option. That is a systemic justice problem. And it is one reason why compassionate, competent, and informed advocacy for LGBTQ+ survivors matters — not just in how the law is applied, but in whether survivors feel safe enough to seek justice in the first place.
Liakos Law is Proud to Serve the Entire Community of Survivors
At Liakos Law, we represent survivors of childhood sexual abuse — including LGBTQ+ survivors and others whose experiences have been overlooked or misconstrued. We understand the barriers that make coming forward difficult, and we are committed to providing culturally competent, judgment-free representation for every survivor we serve. You do not have to face this alone. Our team meets each survivor with compassion and respect, listens without judgment, and moves at a pace that honors what you have lived through. We hold responsible institutions accountable, and we keep learning — deepening our understanding of the communities we serve so that every survivor who comes to us feels seen, believed, and supported.
About Emma Gunderson
Emma Gunderson is an attorney at Liakos Law APC who represents survivors of sexual abuse in complex civil litigation. Her practice is grounded in years of advocating for vulnerable individuals through a trauma-informed approach focused on accountability, justice, and compassionate client representation.
