There are many queer healthcare providers who work every day to raise awareness
Text: Tim van Erp
Photo: Jon Haywood
Video: Andre Kloer
Things are busy — alongside his job and medical training — but Fatih Bici felt the Pride ambassadorship was too important to decline. He wants to advocate for the LGBTQ+ community from within the medical field. ‘Because we are taught that we don’t belong, we become vulnerable to mental health problems.’
The rainbow badge he wears in his ambassador portrait says it all: Fatih Bici wants to serve as a Pride Ambassador from within the medical profession, ‘by and for the LGBTQ+ community’. Fatih works as a psychiatrist in training at Arkin and one day a week as a physician assistant at his own Praktijk Bici. His work focuses on transcultural therapy and the queer community.
Because he works a lot and will be studying until 2027, he had to think carefully about taking on the ambassadorship. “A great honour, but I’m quite busy, and the ambassadorship also requires commitment. So I had to ask myself: is this feasible or am I taking on too much?” His conclusion was clear: “This is too important. There is still a lot of ignorance and stigma about the LGBTQ+ community among doctors, whether it’s about gender identity or sexual health, for example. And yet in a consultation room we must create a safe space to talk about those kinds of issues.”
That’s why the 30-year-old Fatih is committed to improving things in this area. “I sometimes hear stories of people being approached in transphobic or homophobic ways by a doctor — that simply can’t continue. Moreover, we are often told how we should feel or behave. But that isn’t questioned. And that is exactly what needs to happen.” He calls for more sensitivity among doctors and greater visibility of LGBTQ+ people in healthcare. “There are many queer care providers who work daily to raise awareness. I hope they will be more willing to speak out as activists; for example by addressing injustice, racism or discrimination when they see it happening in practice.”
In conversations with his clients, Fatih finds himself ‘in different worlds’. “That’s educational for me too. Take someone with psychosis: they can challenge me with their thought processes, because they aren’t in the same reality as I am. Then I have to ask myself: can I imagine how your thinking works? It’s important that different truths can exist — as long as the conversation takes place.”
The queer community experiences exclusion, stigma and discrimination — and that has consequences from a young age. “We’re taught that we don’t belong. Developing your own identity therefore comes with many obstacles, making us very vulnerable to mental health problems, primarily to developing self-hatred.” That negative impact on identity development limits the formation of self-worth and self-love, Fatih explains. “I recognise that in myself, my environment and my clients. Much of my therapy is about rediscovering that self-worth and self-love, so that your identity ultimately becomes not an obstacle but a source of strength.”
Coming out as a filter
Fatih grew up in Amsterdam Nieuw-West as the child of Turkish parents. From the age of eleven he knew he was attracted to boys. He didn’t have a name for it then: “I didn’t even know what being gay meant.” Growing up in an Islamic family and environment, he was afraid of losing people when he came out.
He went on a journey of discovery that mainly took place online — although that online world looked very different back then. “When I see how openly young people already discuss their orientation or gender identity at a young age now… that’s so remarkable and inspiring. A lot has changed for the better. Back then it wasn’t discussed as openly. My process of self-acceptance was long. I didn’t dare share it with friends: I was afraid of being treated differently or left behind.”
At eighteen he came out, including to his parents. “I did lose some friends, but not all. I look back on it positively. In fact, my coming-out acted as a filter: those who were truly my friends and tried to understand me remained.” Fatih still has contact with his family. “At home homosexuality wasn’t talked about. If I heard things like ‘you can’t be gay, that’s haram’, it mostly came from friends or neighbours. Still, it was difficult for my parents. This was new to them; they didn’t know it. My parents were raised in a different dominant culture and environment. I was the first person in their lives to be openly homosexual.”
So the process for his parents only began at a point when he himself had been dealing with it for years. “They didn’t reject me and I’m very grateful for that. We have contact and I see them regularly. They have since come to terms with it. In fact, we’re at a point where we can talk about it. If I bring it up, the space is there and the conversation isn’t shut down. Recently I felt the need to talk about it: mostly because we hadn’t discussed it for a while and I wanted to check in with them to see if they had questions or if there was anything they didn’t understand. To reconnect, in other words. We did that, with my younger brothers, 18 and 21, present. They’re completely okay with it.”
A new view of faith
It was never his goal that his parents fully accept him, says Fatih. “I can’t demand that of them. From anyone, really. What I do expect is respect. That I can be who I am and express myself as I wish. I give others that same space.”
Fatih continues: “From white queer emancipation you often hear: ‘Be proud of yourself, come out!’ But coming out isn’t the best option for everyone: it can create unsafe situations or you might lose family and friends. So that isn’t necessarily the right message to spread. I do believe everyone should be proud of themselves and be kind to themselves. But I’m not the one who tells you how to do that. I understand where the message comes from, but many LGBTQ+ people don’t feel at home in that call — and therefore also not always within the community.”
After his coming-out, Fatih developed a new perspective on Islam. “I had to relearn what my faith meant to me. I now know that for me it’s about the intention behind someone’s behaviour. People might disapprove of two men being together, but their intention is love.”
He’s aware that some people view homosexuality differently than he does, but overall Fatih receives predominantly positive reactions to his openness. “Partly because the interviews I’ve done with organisations like COC and Winq mainly circulate within the LGBTQ+ community. In the past I’ve sometimes debated with neighbours, for example. They didn’t always agree with me, but that’s fine. For me it’s important that the conversation happens at all. That different worlds come together. If someone learns something from it, that’s a bonus. But first we have to talk to each other.”
Pride ambassador since 2025
